Leopardkit stretched her jaws in a great yawn, cool air rushing into her mouth. The scents of crisp fallen leaves, bare wood, and dying grass all lingered in her jaws. Leaf-fall was in full swing.

      The she-kit sat just outside the medicine den, her spotted felt fluffed out in the chilly air. Clouds blanketed the sky, leaving the stone hollow shadowed and overcast. The great cliffs rose up darkly around her, making her feel like a prisoner. Despite the gloomy weather, it was an exciting morning for everyone.

     Leopardkit was startled awake at the break of dawn when shrill screeches reached her ears. Firetail had immediately burst from her nest, snatched a few herbs with lightning speed, and trotted out of the medicine den.

      The she-kit, only having slept a short while, was practically delirious when she awoke. Her terrifying dreams at the Moonpool all came crashing back, sending her into a full-blown, wide-eyed panic.

       Leopardkit had bolted out of the medicine den, pausing with a look of confusion when she noticed several cats milling about the nursery. Stonedusk had been pacing outside the thick bramble den, his tail twitching anxiously as he glanced inside every few heartbeats. Sandstreak was crouched nearby, her cream fur bristling with irritation. She groomed Weedkit and Longkit who sat at her paws, their eyes bleary and ears pinned back in indignation. Mousekit sat a tail-length away from the rest, his face blank as he stared at nothing. Redpaw burst from the nursery brambles, bounding back toward the medicine den with fear in his green eyes.

"Gingerstorm is kitting!" the ginger tom had gasped before she could say a word.

      The realization had hit her with a flood of relief. Leopardkit had all but forgotten about the calm, gentle queen while she lived in the medicine den. She hoped Gingerstorm still allowed Mousekit to sleep in her nest, since he was all alone now. The she-kit felt a pang of guilt in her chest at the thought.

The painful cries from the nursery had since ceased. Firetail had returned to the medicine den, exhausted, but with news of five new ThunderClan kits.

That had all been earlier in the morning. The medicine cat had left several times to check on Gingerstorm and deliver borage to her since then. Leopardkit had been unable to fall back asleep, adrenaline still burning in her veins. She had a throbbing headache, and her limbs were heavy with exhaustion, but her amber eyes were drawn wide. Now, she waited outside the medicine den for Firetail to return again, curious as to why the queen needed so much attention.

The gray medicine cat slowly emerged from the nursery, her smoke-colored fur ruffled in the cold air. There was a shadowed look to her amber eyes, revealing just how exhausted the elderly medicine cat was. Firetail was the best at her work, but she was undoubtedly growing very, very old.

Leopardkit waited impatiently as the old she-cat walked across camp and back to the medicine den. Her paws were freezing on the cold stony ground. She tried to meet Firetail's amber gaze, but the medicine cat wouldn't look at her.

        "How's Gingerstorm?" Leopardkit piped up innocently.

       "She's doing well," Firetail muttered as she passed the she-kit. The medicine cat ducked past the bramble tendrils and slipped into the den without another word.

     Leopardkit pinned her ears back in indignation. That's all the information Firetail was willing to give? She quickly followed the old she-cat out of the cold and into the medicine den, tail raised and curiosity pricking at her pelt.

      "Then why do you have to visit her so often?" the she-kit meowed, trotting behind Firetail as she headed toward the herb storage.

      The old gray medicine cat nosed through the shelves, intently searching. "Fox-dung," Firetail cursed under her breath, "...out of borage..."

     Leopardkit thought for a moment that Firetail had ignored her, but then the medicine cat finally spoke reluctantly.

     "Queens and kits are very vulnerable shortly after birth," Firetail explained, her voice rushed. "Gingerstorm had a long, rough kitting, and she is exhausted. But she did well, considering that awfully large litter." How voice suddenly lowered and she turned to face Leopardkit, expression grim. "I've seen much worse."

      The she-kit's mind reeled as she imagined what Firetail had experienced in all her seasons. Her thoughts were cloudy, and she struggled to focus. "So, how are they vuln..." A yawn overtook her, and Leopardkit stretched her jaws, blinking tiredly.

       Firetail's careful amber eyes looked her up and down. "Sleep well?" she asked casually, although there was an undertone to her question that Leopardkit couldn't place. The medicine cat moved to a different section of the herb storage, apparently searching for something different.

       "I did wake up a few times," Leopardkit said, the lie easily slipping out of her jaws. She felt a small stab of guilt; she didn't like lying to the medicine cat, who had always been brutally honest with her.

       Firetail didn't reply, continuing her search through the rustling leaves. Leopardkit concluded that the conversation was over, and the she-kit turned and padded toward her nest. Her limbs ached desperately to lay down. Besides, she had a bad feeling in her gut, and wanted to sleep it off.

        "I suppose the Moonpool served you well?"

      The casual question made Leopardkit stop dead in her tracks. Heart pounding, the she-kit slowly turned around, amber eyes wide in shock. "How...?"

      Firetail scoffed, casting her a disdainful look. "The scent of the waters is all over your pelt. Next time you decide to sneak out of camp, disguise your smell with herbs or dung." The medicine cat paused, her amber eyes narrowed. "Besides that, you reek of fear."

      Leopardkit was dumbfounded. She stared at the medicine cat, mouth gaping. Her ears burned with shame. "Firetail... I—"

        The medicine cat cut her off with a low growl. "No, no, no—don't bother apologizing to me!" she spat. "I'm sure the Moonpool gave you a taste of it's own power." Firetail sat calmly and faced the small she-kit, her gaze stony. "Maybe now you'll realize that our ancestors are not to be fooled around with."

       Leopardkit's stomach dropped as the dark, stormy dream returned to her. "I didn't realize..." Her voice came out as a broken whisper.

       "Of course you didn't realize!" Firetail exclaimed with a scornful laugh that filled the medicine den. "You still don't realize how much danger you and Redpaw put yourselves in!"

      Leopardkit hung her head. She stared at her small forepaws. Why in StarClan's name did I go with Redpaw? Of course Firetail would find out!

     Swallowing, the she-kit lifted her gaze to the old medicine cat. "I'm sorry," Leopardkit meowed, voice as sincere as she could make it.

      Firetail gave her a curt nod. "I accept your apology." The medicine cat gathered a small bundle of withered leaves and began mixing it with "But, unfortunately, you're not getting away without consequences." She paused for a moment. "I'm sending you back to the nursery."

     Leopardkit blinked incredulously at Firetail, who continued her work nonchalantly. "W-What?"

      "You heard me," the prickly she-cat snapped. "You will no longer be sleeping here in the medicine den. It gives you too much time with no supervision. I've already told Sandstreak."

      Leopardkit felt an icy dread spread through her. "No, Firetail!" she cried, bounding up to the medicine cat. The she-kit jumped at her graying paws, gazing at her pleadingly. "You can't make me go back there!"

     Firetail shook her off, fixing the young she-kit with a cold amber stare. "I can, and I will. You've reached a healthy weight, and you've recovered from your weakness. There is no reason for you to be here anyway."

      The she-kit felt panic bubbling inside her as she thought about Weedkit and Longkit, landing endless blows on her head... and Sandstreak's piercing, cruel gaze watching her every move.

      "Firetail," Leopardkit wailed helplessly. She pawed at the she-cat's gray pelt. "You don't understand..."

      An angry hiss escaped the medicine cat's mouth, making the she-kit flinch back. "I understand perfectly what it's like for you in the nursery, and so I allowed you a safe place to stay in my own den. Yet, you took advantage of my trust, and you broke the rules of the Clan!"

       Leopardkit winced at the harshness of Firetail's words. She hunkered down, shame burning deep in her belly. Suddenly, her eyes lifted and she locked gazes with the medicine cat. "Well, Redpaw made me go!" she cried out defensively.

        Firetail narrowed her gaze skeptically at the small she-kit. "Redpaw cracked in a heartbeat and told me everything. And I know for a fact that he didn't carry you by the scruff through the forest at night. You agreed to go, and that makes you just as guilty as him."

       Leopardkit pinned her ears, but didn't reply. "All we did was sneak out of camp!" she protested. Anger was slowly building inside her. "We didn't hurt anyone!"

     Firetail rounded on her, face contorted in fury. "Do you understand the danger you put yourselves in—and in turn, your Clanmates? Foxes and badgers wander in and out of our territory! Hungry owls and raccoons hide between every tree! For StarClan's sake, ShadowClan has been caught trespassing recently! What if they had stumbled upon a apprentice with no battle training and a helpless, little kit?"

Leopardkit fell silent, her face contorted with emotion. The medicine cat's words were like heavy blows to her chest. The dream that had been troubling her didn't seem so terrifying anymore. Now she wondered what creatures had been out in the forest last night, and if any had watched her and Redpaw joyfully trot through the darkness, whilst lurking in the shadows...

Firetail took a deep breath, seeming to steady herself. She peered at Leopardkit, but her gaze softened only a fraction. "We could have lost you, Leopardkit. And that would be a tragedy for us all."

Leopardkit barely registered her words, staring ahead blankly. Her mind was still lingering in the long shadows of the forest.

Firetail cleared her throat. "You've had too many close calls, young one. Sandstreak may not be pleasant to be around, but I know she will keep a close eye on you." The gray she-cat gathered the mixed herbs in her jaws and quickly carried them over to her pool to soak them. Leopardkit remained sitting where she was, silent and still.

"Besides," Firetail called over her shoulder, "you have less than a moon before you're apprenticed. Then you don't have to secretly leave camp anymore!" the she-cat chuckled hoarsely.

Leopardkit didn't respond. She forced herself to her paws and trudged in the opposite direction, tail dragging on the ground. The she-kit came to her nest, alone in the infirmary. However, no matter how lonely her little scrap of bedding was, this space had felt most like home.

       Firetail's raspy voice called from back of the den, but it seemed distant and hollow to Leopardkit's ears. "You should go visit Gingerstorm and that brood of hers! Might as well get to know your new denmates."

      Leopardkit curled her lip. A sudden wave of dread surged through her, and she thought she might be sick. The she-kit could already imagine herself cramped inside the stuffy nursery, a nest-full of crying kits to one side, and a bed of venomous snakes on the other. But what scared her the most was facing Mousekit again.

      Nevertheless, Leopardkit pushed her head through the bramble tendrils and emerged into camp. The cold was just as biting as before, seeping beneath her spotted fur. The stone hollow was nearly empty. Two warriors, Grayfoot and Leafnose, both returned from a hunting patrol. The latter carried only one meager lump of prey. The silver she-cat dropped her catch on the fresh-kill pile, the white streak on her along her back ruffled with the weather. The pair quickly made their way to the warriors' den, where they would at least find shelter from the sharp wind. The clearing was left empty once more.

Letting out her breath in a tired sigh, the she-kit slunk across camp toward the nursery, the wind stirring her pelt and making her shiver. The large bramble den waited for her in the gloom like a sleeping beast. As she drew nearer, her ears picked up quiet mewling. Before she could enter, a familiar figure emerged.

However, instead of the usual fluttering happiness, Leopardkit's temper was ignited when she came face to face with him.

"Leopardkit!" Redpaw exclaimed cheerfully. He dropped a wad of dirty bedding at his paws, which reeked of Gingerstorm. "You won't believe it! Firetail assigned me to do nothing but change bedding for the next moo—"

   She interrupted him with gritted teeth. "What were you thinking?" Her amber eyes fixed him with a piercing glare.

     Redpaw looked taken aback, his green eyes wide. The breeze was blowing at his fluffy fur, curving his whiskers. "I-I just wanted to show you a place that I loved... I thought it would be fun and... you might like it..." he stammered over his words, and his voice was timid.

      "Fun!" Leopardkit spat at him, voice dripping with mockery. The fluffy ginger tom flinched and stepped back, but the she-kit wasn't done. "Firetail gave me the worst punishment for that!"

      Redpaw stared down at his paws, shuffling them nervously. "Listen, I really am sorry that we got in trouble, but—"

"You're a medicine cat, for StarClan's sakes! You can't fight!" Leopardkit hissed at him. "What would you have done if something attacked us out there? Protected me?" Her voice was sharp with sarcasm.

Redpaw's leaf-green eyes flashed with hurt. "Why are you acting like this, Leopardkit?" he said quietly. "We're friends."

Leopardkit's hackles raised and fury was pumping through her veins. "You were never my friend! You're just a stupid medicine cat. Now leave me alone!"

Without another word, the she-kit scrambled into the darkness of the nursery. For a reason unknown to her, she couldn't bring herself to look at Redpaw's expression. She didn't want to know what it was.

Leopardkit had felt so eager to berate the young tom, and at the moment it was electrifying to take out everything on him. So why did it leave her with a deep heaviness in her chest?

        She was distracted as the heavy scent of rich milk flooded her senses. The she-kit immediately caught sight of Gingerstorm, laying in a heap of fur in her wide nest. Soft mewls emitted from the nest, which seemed to beckon her forward. The queen's ears twitched as Leopardkit crept closer, and she raised her giant head. Her green eyes were tired but glowing with happiness. "It's been awhile since I've seen you, Leopardkit," Gingerstorm remarked with a rumbling purr.

      Leopardkit gulped down the emotion clogging her throat. "Y-Yeah, I've been staying in the medicine den, but now I'm going to sleep here..." she sputtered out awkwardly.

       "Well, would you like to see them?" the large she-cat asked softly.

         Leopardkit nodded, and she carefully stepped closer to Gingerstorm's nest. Curiosity prickled beneath her skin.

        The fiery-red she-cat lifted her thick tail, revealing several little bundles of fur, pressed against her belly and suckling quietly. There was a dark tortoiseshell, golden one, and two red ones. Leopardkit stared at them in wonder. "They're so... tiny!" she breathed. Was I ever that small?

       Gingerstorm purred deeply in laughter. "Yes, they certainly are." She reached down and gently nudged the golden one. He gave a muffled cry of protest, but then continued suckling. "This one is Morningkit. He was the first born, right at the crack of dawn."

        The queen lightly brushed the tiny tortoiseshell with her plumy tail. "And this is Elmkit—the only she-kit of the litter." There was a distinct tenderness to Gingerstorm's voice as she gazed lovingly at her daughter.

         "What about the two red ones?" Leopardkit whispered, afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the nest.

       As she spoke, one of the red toms, the tabby, broke off from her belly and swung his tiny head around, eyes sealed and ears pressed shut. Leopardkit's breath caught in her throat, afraid that she had unsettled him.

         Gingerstorm purred at her shocked expression. "He's the curious one of the bunch," she explained, "Always trying to look at everyone that speaks! Stonedusk wanted to name him Sapkit."

         The large queen gestured toward the last kit, the solid ginger tom, who was still suckling, tiny paws pressed against Gingerstorm's belly. "This one has been stuck to me like a burr ever since he came out—so we called him Burrkit," she said, chuckling.

        Leopardkit continued to gaze at the litter of tiny, newborn kits, shifting and mewling in the nest. She had never before seen anything like it. They looked like nothing more than pieces of prey, like little mice. They were vulnerable and wholly dependent on their mother. And yet, future warriors of ThunderClan lay here in this nest.

        A sudden thought popped up in her head. Leopardkit looked up at Gingerstorm curiously. "Firetail told me that there were five? Where's the fifth?"

        After seeing the dark shadow cross the queen's face, Leopardkit wished she had not asked. The aurora of happiness radiating from Gingerstorm seemed to disappear in an instant.

       "Stonedusk is burying him," she said in a low voice, eyes glassy. "Russetkit passed away earlier this morning. He was the runt, and Firetail tried her best to get him breathing again..." her voice drifted off, words chocked with emotion.

       "I'm sorry," Leopardkit meowed quickly, feeling guilt prick at her. Not all kits are saved, she thought, her mind traveling back to the dream and Bluesky. The she-kit shook her head to get rid of the thought. "I didn't know—"

        "No, no," Gingerstorm cut her off, sighing. "It's alright. I still have a whole litter of healthy newborns, and an amazing tom to father them. That's all I could ever ask for." The strength returned to her voice just a little, and her eyes brightened somewhat.

        Before Leopardkit could respond, a thin tail brushed against her back, startling her. She turned her head to come face to face with a cat she had been avoiding for days.

        "Good to see you, Leopardkit," Mousekit murmured, dipping his head in a show of respect.

        The she-kit searched frantically for anything malicious in his green gaze, but there was none. Only a warm, caring, concerned light.

        "They're beautiful, aren't they?" the black tom commented, tilting his angular head toward the litter. "It's crazy to think we were that small, and only a few moons ago."

        Leopardkit could only nod her head in agreement. Her throat felt dry. Deep down, cold dread stirred in her.

       A small part of her, deep in the shadows of her heart, believed that he had wanted to kill her that day with the deathberry. She had forgiven him, but the feeling never fully disappeared.

          But as she watched how the thin black tom lovingly gazed down at Gingerstorm's litter, her fears faded away like lifting fog. Mousekit would never—no, could never do anything that horrible. He cares about me and wants to protect me. It all was just a terrible accident...

         But even as the thoughts reeled through her mind, the memory of his sinister gaze and his bold voice—that was nothing like the Mousekit she knew.

        "Here, let's leave Gingerstorm to rest," the black tom said quietly, nudging her flank with his nose.

         Leopardkit waved her tail in farewell to the ginger queen, and followed her brother. It was clear that the two older kits would not be allowed to sleep with her anymore. They came to an untidy scrap of bedding left in the center of the den, leaving some distance between the two queens' nests. The she-kit casted a glare at Sandstreak, who lay curled up with Weedkit and Longkit, sleeping undisturbed.

Mousekit turned and met her gaze. "When Redpaw came to change the bedding earlier, he said something about leaving extra moss for you, but Sandstreak wouldn't have any of that."

Leopardkit's heart twisted at the mention of the medicine cat apprentice. She had gotten so angry at him, all while he was trying to look out for her.

Mousekit continued, a bit sheepishly. "So, when the fox-hearts left the den for prey this morning," he said quietly, flicking his tail at Sandstreak, "I went to steal some of their bedding. I could only scrape off a little so they wouldn't notice, so this is the best we've got."

Leopardkit sniffed the small mound of bedding skeptically. It was barely enough for one kit to sleep comfortably, let alone two five-moon-old kits.

Mousekit must've noticed her expression. "I'll sleep on the ground, if you want to take it," he offered.

Leopardkit shook her head. "No, we'll share it," she said firmly.

The two kits squeezed onto the pile of moss, their warm pelts brushing against each other. Leopardkit's haunches rested on the hard surface of the den, but she didn't complain. Her muscles had been aching to lie down all morning. She could fall asleep on a bed of rocks, for all she cared.

"I'm sorry for not visiting you," Leopardkit suddenly burst out.

Mousekit was silent for a moment. "It's okay. I understand. Things have changed." His quiet voice barely reached her ears.

Things have changed, Leopardkit thought with a lump in her throat.

"Sleep well," Mousekit whispered beside her.

Leopardkit stretched her jaws in a wide yawn. Mousekit's scent flooded her nose, making chills crawl up her spine. The she-kit firmly shoved every dark thought to the back of her head, mentally reprimanding herself for even suggesting something so malevolent. Mousekit would never hurt me.

Never.