bright stars are still shining [c]

Mistlekit didn't really know how she ended up where she was, only that Papa had left camp a while ago and hadn't come back. Instead, lots of different warriors with sad looks on their face who had to go talk to important cats about something. She didn't like it. It reminded her too much of when Mama wouldn't wake up and everyone told her she'd 'gone to Starclan'. Well, as far as the little fluffy kit was concerned, Starclan sounded like a great place because thats where everyone seemed to go. But she couldn't understand why they didn't take her with them.

And so she would go find her parents. With all the bustle in camp, it wasn't too difficult to slip out of the back of the nursery, even if the mean plants caught on her pelt. She didn't get very far with searching until something caught her eye. A little brown smudge, fluttering around her head. She froze, remembering what her Papa had once told her about moths; if you stay really, really still, sometimes they'll land on you. Her mission was very important, but surely it could wait a little while she made a friend. It was amazing how still a kit could stay, especially one who was told she fidgeted far too much on the daily, when she set her mind to it. Before long, the little moth landed on her forehead and Mistlekit squeaked with excitement, unable to hold up the act any longer.

Just as was to be expected, it immediately fled from the noise. And so, Mistlekit was along again. At night, in the forest. Maybe this plan wasn't so great after all.

When one of the queens had yowled about a kit missing from the nursery, Mistyfalcon had jumped to his paws, alarm and thoughts of what had happened in the moons before Asylum's arrival making his fur stand on end. Asylum was gone, of course, but the marsh was no place for a kit to be wandering alone. Especially not with Vea's rogues lurking about the territory.

With a huff, the dark-furred warrior circled the outer edge of the camp wall, finding the small hole that the kit had managed to get through in the back of the nursery. That would need to be patched, and he would see to that just as soon as he found the wayward kit.

The scent trail didn't stray far, and a very kit-like squeak split the quiet air. Mistyfalcon's ears swiveled in the direction of the noise, bounding forward. A scrap of white and pale gray fur stood out starkly in the gloom. Movement caught his eye, a moth fluttering away from the little she-kit. Mistyfalcon pushed himself forward, reflexively scenting the air for signs of rogues or other danger. He was reminded of finding another she-cat that had slipped from camp once, only Brighteye's end had been bloody and painful. His chest felt tight at the thought.

Of course the kit would be her kin A cousin, or something, if he remembered correctly. With a dead mother and a newly-missing father. Given everything that had recently happened, Mistyfalcon thought it very likely that the rogues were the culprits, or maybe twolegs, as had been the case with Rookfire.

"Let's get you back to camp, little one. You shouldn't be out here." If the kit let him (or even if she tried to struggle, really) Mistyfalcon was going to grab her by the scruff and beeline towards the camp entrance. He wouldn't set her down until he stood outside the nursery itself.

At first, Mistlekit had thought the grey figure was just a shadow. That was, of course until it spoke to her and she almost bolted with surprise. However, know she looked closer she recognised him as one of the warriors she had seen around camp. He wasn't papa though, which meant she had to carry on looking. Another glance at the shadowy trees and her mind was quickly changed. "Is it because I might disappear? Like papa, and the nice cat with the plants?"

She glanced around again with wide eyes. The shadows definitely felt like they were getting closer, so she took a small kitten-step towards the adult cat. "What's your name? I like your fur, it lies all flat. I wish I could get mine to do that." She took another step closer, shivering not with the cold, but with fear of the darkness around the two of them. She hoped her moth friend would be alright all alone. At least Mistlekit wasn't alone anymore. "Yeah, can you take me back please?" she said, and added quietly on the end, "It's not as nice as I thought it would be out here"

Nice cat with the plants... Rookfire, Mistyfalcon realized. And her father... Mistyfalcon hadn't known the tom well, but he'd disappeared too. It could've been the rogues, or twolegs, or foxes. It could've even been a simple accident in the deep marshes, for all they knew.

"It's not safe to wander alone out here. The marsh is dangerous for the unwary, and the rogues have been wreaking havoc." He sighed, "I'm Mistyfalcon. You're... Mistlekit, right?" She asked to be taken back to camp, and Mistyfalcon obliged. No Shadowclanner was going to wind up dead today if he could help it.

"So, what made you sneak out of camp?" He asked. Now that the kit was out of danger, Mistyfalcon needed to know what had possessed her to be so mousebrained. She was only a kit, of course, but the dark-furred tom was interested in not seeing her make that mistake again.

"Yeah..." Mistlekit was surprised that he knew her name, but her gaze was more focussed on flicking around her, still looking for her missing moth friend. From her experience, things that went missing didn't usually come back soon enough, even if they did find their way back eventually. It wasn't very far back to camp, since the kit couldn't get very far without getting distracted anyways, but after all the confusion, brief excitement and exercise, she was beginning to get tired.

"I was looking for papa..." She tried really, really hard to look back through the camp entrance, squinting her bright yellow eyes, just in case he had seen them and followed the two home. "...but I don't think he's here. Do you reckon he's gone to Starclan? That's where mama is. It must be nice if that's where everyone disappears to." She absentmindedly repeated her thoughts from earlier, hoping that the older warrior may have answers.

The kit was looking for her father... Mistyfalcon sighed, tail wrapping around his paws as he sat. Her father had disappeared and no kit should have to go through that so young. Her mother had died, and he wasn't sure that Mistlekit had anyone else. That knowledge held his tongue, keeping him from admonishing her for the recklessness of sneaking out of camp.

"We don't know what happened to him." He mewed, trying to be as gentle as he could with it. "With everything else..." He shook his head. It would be cruel to tell her that her father was probably dead, but it would be cruel to give her a sense of hope when it was very likely there was none to be had. What was he supposed to do?

Murkystrike was a better talker than he was. She would know how to handle this tactfully. Mistyfalcon was stumped and at a loss for words and didn't know how to comfort her.