A small mew could barely be heard as the strong winds of a storm raged on over the forest. Rain splattered down onto the ground harshly, ricocheying off the ground into multiple tinier parts before settling and creating small puddles everywhere. Even smaller than the puddles, however, was a dark golden colored kit with even darker splotches that were almost the black of night but still obviously had a golden tint, who was huddled underneath a bush for both protection and warmth. He whimpered as the thunder raged on overhead, and flashes of lightning could be seen every couple of seconds.
     He didn't like storms, it reminded him too much of his parents and their fatal demise. A huge fire that the rain couldn't put out on it's own, and a weakened tree hitting the ground and two other bodies, their kit safe from the harm just a little bit ahead as he watched the tree fall.
     He shook his head, he didn't want to think about it, he hated to think about it. Then another loud boom seemed to shake the Earth, and he curled in on himself even tighter.
     Eventually, the storm passed, and the kit could finally relax. A small sigh of relief passed through his tiny jaws.
     As small as he was, he was actually almost five moons old. Other kits his age would be bigger, but he supposed he just didn't have the right amount of growth spurts.
     Slowly, the kit crawled out from under the bush, and immediately regretted doing so. The warmth of the bush was much better than the bitter cold of the air that surrounded him from the storm. The fresh smell of rain water and wet earth filled his nostrils, and he grimaced. The smell was almost as bad as the storm itself to him.
     A crunching noise could suddenly be heard, along with what sounded like voices as well. The small kit froze, not sure as to what he should do. The voices got louder, they sounded like complaints, most likely from having to come out so early, and right after a storm as well. The kit wasn't sure though.
     Soon enough, they emerged, three cats, one obviously younger than the other two. The one on the right was a silver tabby with golden yellow eyes, and a small scar adorned his face right next to his right eye. His right ear also had a small tear in it. The other older cat was also a tom, this time a brown one with one darker spot of brown on his left eye, which was a light blue, the other a pure bright green. The younger cat was a she-cat, a ginger one with darker stripes along her back and her face, and a white tail tip. Her eyes were crystal blue pools in the flames of her pelt.
     They were all staring at the kit, their conversation stopped mid-sentence when they noticed him. He just stood there, still unknowing as to what his next move should be, but it was far too late to turn tail and run now. They had spotted him.
     "What the... What is a kit like you doing all the way out here?", the silver tabby suddenly spoke up, breaking the moment of nearly uncomfortable silence.
     The kit stayed silent, unsure of whether to answer or not. He was frightened of these new cats, and he was scared of what they might do to him. His fear was obviously recognized, however, because the brown cat now took his turn to speak.
     "Don't be frightened, we aren't of any harm to you. We wish to not cause any harm upon you, I assure you. You can trust us! My name is Bramblestripe, my friend over here is Streamheart, and the one over there is my apprentice, Poppypaw," he explained, pointing to the others with his nose when he introduced them.
     The kit tried to relax, but he was still slightly on edge from the storm, the smell around him and these new cats not making it much better. He began to speak though, trusting the words of Bramblestripe.
     "I-I'm Duskly... I'm out here because I do.t really have anywhere else I can go. I thought I would be safer in the forest than out in the open..."
     "Where are your parents? Did something happen to them?", Streamheart asked gently to the small kit.
     Not wanting to think about it again, and have to explain it too, Duskly simply nodded his head as a yes.
     A look of sympathy washed over all their faces, and Bramblestripe gave a gentle smile to the kit, "Come back with us. Perhaps you can live with us in our Clan, it's certainly safer than you staying out here in the wild by yourself at such a young age."
     Duskly suddenly got defensive, puffing out his chest as he protested, "For your information, I am nearly five moons old!", he gets really riled up whenever somebody mentions his small stature. He doesn't like to be reminded about his size very often.
     A slight look of surprise flashed over his face before he gave a small chuckle, "Good to know! That means that you're also close to six moons old!"
     Duskly got confused at this statement, but he wrote it off as nothing important.
     "Come on, let's go back to camp!", Bramblestripe exclaimed, turning around and bounding back the way they had came.
     Streamheart rolled his eyes and laughed at the other's excited behaviour before following after him. Poppypaw followed right after the silver tabby, and Duskly ran to catch up to them, stopping when he got to Poppypaw's side.
     They walked for a little bit, until they came across what looked like a tower of underbrush. A passageway hidden by bracken and vines was off to the side a little bit, and it was guarded by a tortoiseshell she-cat with glaring yet kind green eyes.
     The other cats nodded at each other in acknowledgement, but Duskly didn't do anything but follow the others into the passageway.
     Next thing Duskly knew, he was surrounded by light once more and he was in a clearing bustling with cats moving all about. There was a pile of freshkill on the right side with a few cats surrounding it, talking wildly with each other. On the left side, cats that looked to be about the same age as Poppypaw were carrying moss into what looked like a den of some sort, which had a pile of old moss by the entrance. In the northeast corner, a boulder with a crack large enough for an animal a bit larger than a cat to fit through resided, and a faint smell of some kind of herbs came from it. An entrance to a place that stunk was sort of near the entrance, and he guessed that was where they all did their business. And finally, kits were playing all sorts of games with a single ball of moss together in front of another den made of bramble, bracken, branches, and other materials that resided in the southeast corner, though a little bit father away from the entrance. Straight ahead was a cliff with a cave entrance a few tail-lengths off the ground, with a white cat with red patches standing in front of it and looking straight at Duskly.