SHAKEN FROM HER dreamless slumber by her mother shifting against her, Arch blinked open her eyes, light filtering into the den and momentarily blinding her as she slowly raised her head.

     Shadow Fox was awake, ears perked up, body tensed. She curled her tail around the two kittens pressed against her, turning and nudging King awake with her nose.

     Confused, Arch batted away her mother's tail and peeked out from under it curiously, nose twitching when she suddenly became aware of something making noise outside of their little den.

     The dark ginger tabby who was her father lifted his head sleepily, muzzle fur tangled with bits of moss and pine straw which he immediately brushed away with one paw. His expression shifted when he caught sight of Shadow Fox's serious gaze, and he sat up slowly.

     "What's wrong?" He demanded, flashing his gaze to the kits she protected with her huge and fluffy tail.

     The dark brown tabby narrowed her eyes slightly. "Something's outside."

     King carefully got to his paws, nose twitching as the threatening sounds drew nearer to the den, yowling and hissing that seemed to be coming from other cats.

     Multiple.

     Arch's gaze shifted to the den entrance as she silently pawed at Jag, who was still slumbering under the cover of the dark tail laid over top of them. Her sister jerked awake, squeaking, only to go silent when she shoved a paw against her muzzle.

     Shadow Fox stared at King as the tom poked his head out of their den to see what was happening, and only when he turned back around did she speak in a voice as soft as a mouse's pawsteps.

     "What is it?"

     The small ginger tom seemed a bit surprised, his amber eyes staring down at his mate and kits. "Two groups of cats . . . approaching each other from either side of the clearing. I think . . . this might be a battleground."

     The kits' mother snapped her ears up. "Battleground? That—that can't happen! We have kits here!"

     "I don't think they care." He nudged her gently to her paws. "Come on, we have to get out of here."

     "Leave?" Jag piped up with a frown, watching Shadow Fox stagger to her feet. "We can't leave — this is our home!"

     The big dark brown molly stepped back, avoiding crushing the kits beneath her paws, and gently picked up Arch in her jaws. "Home isn't always a place, Jag — it's the cats you call your family that you come back to. And right now, being here isn't safe."

     "Are we going to die?" The elder kit demanded, squeaking when King grabbed her by the scruff.

     "Nonsense." Their father scoffed around a mouthful of fur. "No one is going to die."

     "But we need to go — now." Shadow Fox urged, her breath ruffling Arch's fur as her teeth dug gently into the skin of her neck. She pushed past King and poked her head out of the den, looking around before she began making her way toward the treeline off to the side of their home.

     Arch could smell the tension in the air — it was almost thick enough to choke on, but she wisely held her tongue, tucking her tail between her hind legs as she was carried into the bushes. A moment later, an ear-splitting screech cut through the air, sending birds scattering around them. Her head snapped around to see a large figure slam into another, taking the both of them to the ground in a tussle of fur and dust.

     King shoved Shadow Fox roughly, and the two cats sprinted for the bushes to hide from the ever-growing loudness of the fight behind them.

     Arch was dropped to the ground with an "oof" as her father shoved himself into the bush after her, setting Jag down beside her. His ginger coat obscured the kits' vision for a moment as he curled around them.

     "Shadow!" He hissed suddenly, his voice clearly one of alarm and worry. "Get in here!"

     The young kit watched as the big dark brown tabby glanced over her shoulder when he spoke, just as the ferns behind her rustled, yielding a light-colored cat whose blue eyes gleamed in the light against his white face.

     Her mother froze in place, shifting her body to stand in front of the bush, claws sliding out of their sheathes. Her bristling fur made her look even bigger than she already was, which was a frightening sight to behold for the kit.

     The moment the stranger's eyes locked on Shadow Fox, he sprang forward, claws flashing as he pounced on her back.

     A flash of terror shot through Arch, and she made a desperate attempt to lunge out and protect her mother from the strange cat, but King's teeth drove into her tail and held her, before he used a paw to muffle her angry screech.

     As the sounds of the fight just beyond the branches became more rage-filled, her father pressed them against the far side of the small bush, his fur nearly suffocating alongside the tension. It took everything for Arch to keep silent and still, listening to the sounds beyond the undergrowth as her mother fought to get the stranger to leave.

     Until she was aware of a soft thud, and a loud yowling that rose up over the trees.

     Pawsteps sounded, fading quickly, but King didn't move a muscle, nor did he allow for the kits to move, huddled against the branches for some time after the screeching even in the distance had stopped.

      The air was left in a . . . creepy sort of quiet. Ominous. And Arch didn't like it.

     She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, positioned as they were in the bush. Only when the noises had been quiet for long enough to warrant the return of some songbirds to the treetops did King shift sideways and let the kits get up.

     Jag spat out a mouthful of ginger fur, glaring at their father, but Arch didn't bother being as dramatic. She shook out her fur and watched as King moved toward the bush's entrance, wiggling out and flicking his tail as a motion for the two she-kits to follow.

     Arch squeezed out of the small den and looked around, observing the trampled flowers and scuff marks in the dirt patches from where Shadow Fox had fought, but King didn't pay attention to those, striding quietly over to where a large figure was slumped over toward the far side of the clearing.

     Shadow Fox.

     The two kits scampered after him, halting a few paces away as he shoved his muzzle under Shadow Fox's shoulder to wake her. "Get up, Shadow." He murmured. "Good job playing it off, but the threat is over — we need to go."

     "Yeah!" Jag chirped, bouncing around to stand between King's front legs. "You were so brave, taking on that cat! I want to be just like you!"

     Arch hung back, staring at the figure of Shadow Fox worriedly. It looked as though she was asleep, tired from fighting. The wind rippled across her dark fur, but there was something strange about the way she was laying.

     King snapped his head up with a surprised hiss, sending a jolt of surprise through the young kit as she was suddenly tackled by her father. He grabbed both kits — taking Jag by her tail and Arch by the scruff — and dragging them behind the nearest tree. He didn't give them time to breathe before he was crushing them under his belly fur, tucking them beneath his body and crouching over them.

     Peeking out from under him with a near-exasperated huff, Arch was immediately silenced when she saw two unfamiliar cats out of the corner of her eye, approaching the figure of Shadow Fox.

     Their colors were muted in the shadows of the trees, but they looked similar in both appearance and age.

     The two strangers approached Arch's mother, halting before her.

     "That's . . . not one of ours." The first one spoke, wrinkling his nose as he poked her with a claw. "All of our cats survived."

     Flicking his tail, the second cat moved around to stand opposite to the first, sniffing the dark brown tabby fur. "It's not WindClan, either. Too big. Smells like the woods."

     "A rogue, then?" The first asked worriedly. "That was caught in the crossfire?"

     "Must be." His companion agreed, lifting his head with a sigh. "Poor thing. She was probably mistaken for a warrior with her size and attacked."

     The first sat down, looking around. "She has kitscent on her. Think there might be a nest around here? Should we go check it out and make sure our battle didn't orphan any kits?"

     Sniffing the air, the second shook his head. "No, I scent another cat. The father, I'd presume. He probably took the kits and fled once he found the body, but he might come back for her. We should leave."

     "There are rogues on our territory?" The first's fur rose along his shoulders.

     "Technically, this is the border. They're not in any territory. We can't do much about it." The second shook out his pelt and got up, seeming rather tired. "Come on, let's leave her for the family to bury. She's not one of ours. It's not our place."

     Laying his tail over the other's back, he began to guide him away, only halting once to look over his shoulder.

     Arch swore he caught her gaze, but he said nothing, eventually vanishing alongside the first into the bushes.

     King had gone very still throughout the exchange, but as soon as the strange cats were no longer in sight, he charged out from behind the tree and collapsed beside Shadow Fox, nudging her more roughly than he had before.

     "That's enough playing around!" He hissed as Arch and Jag followed him more slowly, stopping behind him. "Get up, Shadow."

     "Yeah . . . " Jag pushed her head against Shadow Fox's cheek, pulling back when the action yielded nothing.

     Their mother remained completely limp and still.

     "What's wrong with her?" Arch asked, staring at her father, tail tucked between her legs. "Is she hurt badly?"

     "That stupid cat must have knocked her down hard." Jag sniffed, swishing her own tail nervously. "She should get up in a moment."

     King stared down at the heap of dark fur, his expression slowly shifting from panicked annoyance to something close to dismay.

     He didn't look at either kit, his ears going back.

     "Shadow Fox . . . isn't going to get up."

     Arch turned her attention back onto him, but he didn't meet her eyes, not tearing his gaze from the figure at his paws.

     A moment later, his tail wrapped around her, pulling her close to him as Jag was brought to his side with one paw.

     "I'm sorry, kits." His voice came out trembling. "Your mother, she's gone."

     "Gone?" Jag looked up at him. "What do you mean? She's right here." The elder kit reached forward and prodded Shadow Fox with a paw.

     "Yes . . . her body, it's here." King replied, finally tearing his gaze away to stare down at the two kits huddled against him. "But . . . " he took a deep breath. "No one stays here forever."

     Arch leaned forward, the dark brown fur of her mother brushing her muzzle. "Where is she?"

     "When a cat reaches the end of his or her life, they no longer need a physical body." King explained softly. "They leave it behind to return to the dirt, to help the land one final time."

     Jag tilted her head to the side. "But what about the rest of her? If her body is here, where did the rest of her go?"

     Their father shook his head. "There are so many different speculations. Some say that the spirit dies with the body, leaving nothing but death. The absence of life. Other cats believe that the spirit joins the stars to help us continue on after they leave us." He closed his eyes. "But whatever the truth is, she's not here with us anymore. Someone tore her away. We won't see each other again."

     Arch felt her heart begin to ache in a strange way as the realization dawned on her. Shadow Fox had left them. She wasn't here, even if she was right there, right in front of them.

     As she buried her muzzle into her father's fur, inhaling his scent for a sense of comfort, she could hear his words over the blood roaring in her ears.

     "Your mother is gone, and she's never coming back."