Post by Jayfrost on Jun 5, 2014 4:25:32 GMT
This was created for a Christmas contest over on BlogClan (Kate's blog.) The theme was a character seeing snow for the first time. Of course, I went for the most heartbreaking option I could. I got the title from the song "Louder Than Thunder" by The Devil Wears Prada. This is a one-shot.
Rated K+.
Click on the title below to read the story.
Rated K+.
Click on the title below to read the story.
{Quiet Like The Snow}
”Wake up,” her mother's warm voice murmured.
Mosskit slowly blinked her wide blue eyes awake. Beside her, she could feel her brother and sister shifting around as they awoke as well. The kit let out a shuddering yawn, stretching her legs out in front of her to the very tips of her claws. As she tried to blink the sleep out of her tired eyes, she heard Stonekit yawn, “Is it dawn?”
“Not yet,” Bluefur replied in a low tone. “So we have to be quiet. We don't want to wake anyone else up.”
“What's the matter?” Mistykit asked in a loud squeak.
“Hush,” Bluefur anxiously shushed her daughter, glancing anxiously at the other queen, White-Eye. Mosskit wasn't sure what her mother was so worked up about. Was she worried White-Eye would be grumpy if they woke her up too early?
The little kit took a moment to look more closely at the larger she-cat. She had to stretch her head backwards to see all the way up to her mother's head. The queen's thick gray-blue fur hid strong legs, a compact, muscled chest, powerful haunches, and the many scars that outlined her mother's history of fighting. Mosskit was so lucky to have such a brave warrior for a mother. She knew that one day, she'd be just as great a warrior as Bluefur. She'd be Mossfur, the strong!
Bluefur spared another worried glance at the sleeping cats before turning to her kits with a mischievous look. She wrapped her tail around the kits, drawing them closer to her as she whispered, “We're going to play a game, but you have to be very, very quiet.”
Mosskit fought back an excited squeak, her fur fluffing out with sudden energy. She couldn't wait to play this new game! She'd be the best at it, and Bluefur would be so proud of her.
Her brother leaped to his paws, eyes bright with excitement. “What game?”
“It's called Secret Escape,” their mother whispered, giving the kits a conspiratorial wink. Mosskit perked her ears as far as they could go, trying to look as attentive as possible.
“How do we play?” Mistykit asked.
Their mother explained to them, “It's an adventure. We pretend that ShadowClan has invaded the camp. We have to escape without being seen, and meet our Clanmates at Sunningrocks.”
The young kit's spirit faltered for a moment. “We're leaving the camp.”
Stonekit jabbed a paw into her shoulder, the bossy furball. “How else would we get to Sunningrocks, mouse-brain?”
She longed to tackle her brother and show him who was the mouse-brain, but Bluefur had warned them to be quiet. Besides, she still felt that little pit of unease in her stommach. She couldn't keep the uncertain tremor out of her voice as she mewed, “But we've never been out of the camp before. We're too little.”
“I'm hungry,” Mistykit added in a pitiful mewl.
Bluefur took a deep breath before smiling softly at her kits. “Okay. Let's eat first, then we'll start the game.” The blue-gray queen lowered herself so that her face was level with Mosskit. She looked into her daughter's eyes, her own eyes unblinking, as she assured her, “Mosskit, you're a big, strong kit now. You'll be fine, I promise.”
Mosskit believed her. Of course she did. To a kit so young, her mother seemed as old and wise as the forest itself, as immoveable as the High Rock, undefeatable as the stars. She knew that Bluefur would always keep her safe, and one day, she'd be warrior to make her mother proud.
Bluefur fed them, though not as much as she normally would, to Mosskit's annoyance. Ah well. She supposed it was so they wouldn't be too full on their special mission game. That was it, surely.
As Bluefur led them out into the snowy camp, Mosskit's mind flew back to some weeks ago, when she had first made her way out into the soft, white snow draped over every surface of their camp...
“Bluefur, can we play outside with Runningkit and Mousekit. Pleeaaase?”
Mosskit was in front of her mother beside Mistykit and Stonekit, practically wriggling with excitement. She was barely bigger than Bluefur's paw, with soft kitten fur that stuck out at odd angles. She had never been outside the nursery before, and White-Eye's kits got to go out all the time. It wasn't fair! She was big enough now.
Bluefur hesitated for a moment, exchanging an uncertain glance with White-Eye. After the older queen gave her a quiet nod of encouragement, Bluefur turned back to her kits. “Alright. But stay with Runningkit and Mousekit, and keep out from under everyone's paws. Everyone's busy enough without having to trip over you three.” Even as her words rebuked, her eyes and voice were warm with love.
Mosskit let out a squeak of triumph. Her first time outside! “We'll be careful!” she called over her shoulder as she and her siblings practically tripped over their furry kitten paws to get outside. They kept letting out little squeaks of joy as they tumbled out into the camp.
The first thing Mosskit noticed about the camp was that it was cold. The nursery was protected by thickly woven walls, and was made warmer by the bodies of the queens keeping their kits safe and warm. Mosskit had never felt cold like this before.
The next thing she noticed was the weird white stuff on the ground. It was cold and wet and her paws were sinking into it, deeper than the sand of the nursery floor. Mosskit let out a squeal of protest as her legs slid down into the cold white stuff, all the way up to her belly, soaking her soft belly fur.
“You made it!” Mosskit looked up to see Runningkit and Mousekit bounding over. White-Eye's kits were three moons older, and much, much bigger. The white stuff, she noticed a little irritably, only reached partway up their legs. The tom was already becoming lanky and tall, while Mousekit was shorter but compact, and still larger than Mosskit and her siblings.
Stonekit lifted his head proudly. “Yep! Bluefur says we can play with you.”
Mosskit lifted a paw, flicking off as much of the weird white stuff as she could. “Wha-what is this stuff?” she squeaked.
Runningkit let out a purr of amusement. “It's snow,” he explained. He flicked the tip of his tail against the white surface for emphasis, dusting some of the white stuff off to the side. “It falls from the sky during leaf-bare.”
The gray-and-white she-kit looked down at the snow with new interest. From the sky? she thought. “Then... does it come from StarClan?” she wondered aloud.
Mistykit nudged her. “Everything comes from StarClan, silly.” Mosskit nipped at her ear for that comment, momentarily forgetting her question.
“Not everything,” Mousekit countered, sounding full of importance at her knowledge. “Just prey 'n seasons 'n clouds 'n stuff.” She puffed out her chest smugly. Mosskit resisted the urge to flick snow into her face.
Runningkit looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I guess it could be, yeah. I think it is. It should be.” He gave a decisive nod. “Snow comes from StarClan.”
Mosskit stared at the pretty white surface of the snow. The way the sun danced on the smooth surface, the way it glittered and shined, it looked like starlight. Like a million million little shining stars all spread out across the ground. She smiled softly to herself. “Snow comes from StarClan,” she whispered softly.
Mosskit felt shivers running through her whole, tiny body. She couldn't remember ever being so cold. Every hair on her pelt felt icy cold. Her nose and paws had gone numb several minutes ago. And still she kept fighting to put one frozen paw in front of the other. The snow didn't seem quite as fun and pretty anymore as it had that first time. It just seemed wet and miserable and cold.
Bluefur nudged Mosskit's flank with her big, blunt muzzle, pushing her hind end forward. “Just a bit farther,” she urged quietly.
Mosskit just let out a miserable little whimper, but Stonekit plopped his tail down onto the snow and glared stubbornly at his mother. “I can't feel my paws,” he informed her in a very decisive tone. “How can I walk if I don't know where my paws are?” Privately, Mosskit agreed with him. This game wasn't fun anymore. She just wanted to go home. She slumped down onto the snow beside Mistykit, pressing herself as close to her sister's warm body as she could manage without merging into the other kit.
As a strange bird cried overhead, Bluefur stiffened, her blue eyes flashing with sudden uncertainty. Mosskit's numb pelt prickled uncomfortably. She didn't want to see her mother uncertain. She wanted her mother to be the strong one. She wanted her mother to look at her with that warm, reassuring strength and tell her exactly what to do. Seeing her mother uncertain suddenly made her all the more scared.
Bluefur suddenly crouched down, eyes sharp with determination as she told the kits, “I've got an idea.” With her wide, strong paws, she started scooping out a small hollow in the snow under a clump of ferns. “In you go,” she instructed gently. Mosskit reluctantly forced her numb paws to start moving again. She wormed her way into the hollow, one side pressed snugly up against Mistykit and Stonekit. Their pelts, just as frozen as hers, offered no extra warmth. Snow pressed against her other side, the cold digging into her fur and biting at her, bringing burning pain to whatever parts of her weren't totally numb.
Bluefur looked in at them briefly, assuring them, “I'll be back for you in a moment.” Then she bounded away, swept from view by the mist and snow.
Mosskit felt a sudden rush of alarm. “Bluefur!” she screamed, terror clawing at her chest. Bluefur was leaving her. She couldn't just do that, she couldn't! She couldn't leave Mosskit to die in the cold and the snow. She couldn't! Mosskit screamed Bluefur's name again, soon joined by Mistykit and Stonekit.
After what seemed like forever, Bluefur finally returned, drawing her kits out of the hollow. As she drew her kits in close with a wide, furry paw, Mistykit wailed, “Where did you go?”
“We thought you weren't coming back!” Mosskit yowled, her little heart still pounding with terror. She'd thought Bluefur was leaving her to die.
Bluefur's eyes flashed with sudden pain, greater than anything Mosskit had ever seen before. She crouched low, chin brushed against the backs of her kits. “Oh, my precious kits,” she murmured softly, her warm breath brushing against Mosskit's pelt. “I'll always come back.”
For one last time, Mosskit believed her.
“Having fun?”
Mosskit looked up to see Bluefur standing over her, expression warm with amusement. Mistykit and Stonekit were off chasing Runningkit and Mousekit around the base of the High Rock, leaving Mosskit to try and waddle her way around the snow by herself.
The kit shrugged, a chore with her legs so stuck in the snow. “Sort of.”
Bluefur flicked her tail. “Why only sort of?”
Mosskit sighed. “Everyone's bigger than me. They're all better at running in the snow than I am.” She glared enviously at her sibling's long, sleek legs as they stumbled after the older kits. “I'll never be as fast as them.”
The gray-blue queen let out a mew of sympathy. She crouched down so she was eye-level with the kitten, giving her that warm, reassuring gaze of hers. With a big show of looking around to see if anyone was listening, she gave her daughter a mischievous glance. “You want to know a secret?” she asked. When Mosskit nodded, she revealed, “I thought the exact same thing when I was your age,” she told her daughter.
Mosskit's eyes widened. “Really?” she breathed. She couldn't imagine her powerful mother as a tiny, awkward kit.
Bluefur nodded seriously. “I never thought my legs would be long enough to walk the whole territory. But now,” she added as she straightened back to her full height, “I've traveled to the edges of Clan territory, and so will you one day. You just have to be patient.”
Mosskit sighed. She knew her mother was trying to make her feel better, but it didn't help the fact that Mistykit and Stonekit were too busy to play with her right now. “I guess,” she mumbled.
Without warning, a clump of snow smacked into Mosskit's face. “Hey!” she yelped, reaching with a furry paw to wipe the flakes from her face. She looked up to see Bluefur with a paw raised, having just scooped up a pawful of snow to fling at her daughter. The queen's expression was mischievous and playful.
Mosskit scrunched up her face, letting out a mock hiss. “Hey, no fair!” With a playful growl, she bounded after her mother, chasing the older she-cat through the snow-covered camp at the fastest pace she could manage. Mother and daughter blundered around the camp, laughing and growling, through the sunlit snow.
”You can sleep for a while here,” Bluefur assured her kits. They were all cuddled together with their mother inside another snow hollow, all four bodies tangled together as close as they could get, but Mosskit couldn't even feel their pelts touching hers anymore. She couldn't feel anything at all, just the pain in her lungs as she drew in each new, dry, cold breath.
Mosskit's eyes were already closed by the time Bluefur had spoken. She knew her mother was there for her, she had nothing to fear by falling asleep. She was going to grow up to be Mossfur the strong. One day, she'd look back at this day in the snow and laugh. She had to.
Bluefur had promised.
As Mosskit chased after Bluefur, she suddenly felt something cold and wet land on her back. She let out a squeak of surprise. “What was that?”
Bluefur purred with amusement. “It's snowing, Mosskit,” she told her daughter. Mosskit looked up to see the soft white flakes drifting softly from the sky. Her mouth fell open, leaving her gaping in awe. It wasn't a loud, quick pounding to the ground like the rain she had seen from inside the nursery. This was a gentle dance through the sky, silent and serene. In that moment, she knew she was right. Snow came from StarClan, because snow was stars, coming to rest on the forest below. She understood StarClan's blessing. Snow was the greatest beauty they could give the forest. She was lucky to see it, and she would see it for many moons to come, as the strong, powerful warrior Bluefur told her she would one day become.
As she drifted off into sleep, Mosskit felt soft flakes falling in front of her face, tickling her whiskers. She let out a weak purr at the feeling. The last thing she whispered before slipping off forever was, “Snow comes from StarClan.”
As Mosskit ran around like crazy, furry paws batting wildly at the falling flakes, she never would've guessed that her end would come in a miserable snowy hollow less than a moon away. However, perhaps after raging at the unfairness of it all, she might've found some sense of rightness in that end.
How better to go then in the gentle silence of the snow, StarClan's gift to the forest?
”Wake up,” her mother's warm voice murmured.
Mosskit slowly blinked her wide blue eyes awake. Beside her, she could feel her brother and sister shifting around as they awoke as well. The kit let out a shuddering yawn, stretching her legs out in front of her to the very tips of her claws. As she tried to blink the sleep out of her tired eyes, she heard Stonekit yawn, “Is it dawn?”
“Not yet,” Bluefur replied in a low tone. “So we have to be quiet. We don't want to wake anyone else up.”
“What's the matter?” Mistykit asked in a loud squeak.
“Hush,” Bluefur anxiously shushed her daughter, glancing anxiously at the other queen, White-Eye. Mosskit wasn't sure what her mother was so worked up about. Was she worried White-Eye would be grumpy if they woke her up too early?
The little kit took a moment to look more closely at the larger she-cat. She had to stretch her head backwards to see all the way up to her mother's head. The queen's thick gray-blue fur hid strong legs, a compact, muscled chest, powerful haunches, and the many scars that outlined her mother's history of fighting. Mosskit was so lucky to have such a brave warrior for a mother. She knew that one day, she'd be just as great a warrior as Bluefur. She'd be Mossfur, the strong!
Bluefur spared another worried glance at the sleeping cats before turning to her kits with a mischievous look. She wrapped her tail around the kits, drawing them closer to her as she whispered, “We're going to play a game, but you have to be very, very quiet.”
Mosskit fought back an excited squeak, her fur fluffing out with sudden energy. She couldn't wait to play this new game! She'd be the best at it, and Bluefur would be so proud of her.
Her brother leaped to his paws, eyes bright with excitement. “What game?”
“It's called Secret Escape,” their mother whispered, giving the kits a conspiratorial wink. Mosskit perked her ears as far as they could go, trying to look as attentive as possible.
“How do we play?” Mistykit asked.
Their mother explained to them, “It's an adventure. We pretend that ShadowClan has invaded the camp. We have to escape without being seen, and meet our Clanmates at Sunningrocks.”
The young kit's spirit faltered for a moment. “We're leaving the camp.”
Stonekit jabbed a paw into her shoulder, the bossy furball. “How else would we get to Sunningrocks, mouse-brain?”
She longed to tackle her brother and show him who was the mouse-brain, but Bluefur had warned them to be quiet. Besides, she still felt that little pit of unease in her stommach. She couldn't keep the uncertain tremor out of her voice as she mewed, “But we've never been out of the camp before. We're too little.”
“I'm hungry,” Mistykit added in a pitiful mewl.
Bluefur took a deep breath before smiling softly at her kits. “Okay. Let's eat first, then we'll start the game.” The blue-gray queen lowered herself so that her face was level with Mosskit. She looked into her daughter's eyes, her own eyes unblinking, as she assured her, “Mosskit, you're a big, strong kit now. You'll be fine, I promise.”
Mosskit believed her. Of course she did. To a kit so young, her mother seemed as old and wise as the forest itself, as immoveable as the High Rock, undefeatable as the stars. She knew that Bluefur would always keep her safe, and one day, she'd be warrior to make her mother proud.
Bluefur fed them, though not as much as she normally would, to Mosskit's annoyance. Ah well. She supposed it was so they wouldn't be too full on their special mission game. That was it, surely.
As Bluefur led them out into the snowy camp, Mosskit's mind flew back to some weeks ago, when she had first made her way out into the soft, white snow draped over every surface of their camp...
“Bluefur, can we play outside with Runningkit and Mousekit. Pleeaaase?”
Mosskit was in front of her mother beside Mistykit and Stonekit, practically wriggling with excitement. She was barely bigger than Bluefur's paw, with soft kitten fur that stuck out at odd angles. She had never been outside the nursery before, and White-Eye's kits got to go out all the time. It wasn't fair! She was big enough now.
Bluefur hesitated for a moment, exchanging an uncertain glance with White-Eye. After the older queen gave her a quiet nod of encouragement, Bluefur turned back to her kits. “Alright. But stay with Runningkit and Mousekit, and keep out from under everyone's paws. Everyone's busy enough without having to trip over you three.” Even as her words rebuked, her eyes and voice were warm with love.
Mosskit let out a squeak of triumph. Her first time outside! “We'll be careful!” she called over her shoulder as she and her siblings practically tripped over their furry kitten paws to get outside. They kept letting out little squeaks of joy as they tumbled out into the camp.
The first thing Mosskit noticed about the camp was that it was cold. The nursery was protected by thickly woven walls, and was made warmer by the bodies of the queens keeping their kits safe and warm. Mosskit had never felt cold like this before.
The next thing she noticed was the weird white stuff on the ground. It was cold and wet and her paws were sinking into it, deeper than the sand of the nursery floor. Mosskit let out a squeal of protest as her legs slid down into the cold white stuff, all the way up to her belly, soaking her soft belly fur.
“You made it!” Mosskit looked up to see Runningkit and Mousekit bounding over. White-Eye's kits were three moons older, and much, much bigger. The white stuff, she noticed a little irritably, only reached partway up their legs. The tom was already becoming lanky and tall, while Mousekit was shorter but compact, and still larger than Mosskit and her siblings.
Stonekit lifted his head proudly. “Yep! Bluefur says we can play with you.”
Mosskit lifted a paw, flicking off as much of the weird white stuff as she could. “Wha-what is this stuff?” she squeaked.
Runningkit let out a purr of amusement. “It's snow,” he explained. He flicked the tip of his tail against the white surface for emphasis, dusting some of the white stuff off to the side. “It falls from the sky during leaf-bare.”
The gray-and-white she-kit looked down at the snow with new interest. From the sky? she thought. “Then... does it come from StarClan?” she wondered aloud.
Mistykit nudged her. “Everything comes from StarClan, silly.” Mosskit nipped at her ear for that comment, momentarily forgetting her question.
“Not everything,” Mousekit countered, sounding full of importance at her knowledge. “Just prey 'n seasons 'n clouds 'n stuff.” She puffed out her chest smugly. Mosskit resisted the urge to flick snow into her face.
Runningkit looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I guess it could be, yeah. I think it is. It should be.” He gave a decisive nod. “Snow comes from StarClan.”
Mosskit stared at the pretty white surface of the snow. The way the sun danced on the smooth surface, the way it glittered and shined, it looked like starlight. Like a million million little shining stars all spread out across the ground. She smiled softly to herself. “Snow comes from StarClan,” she whispered softly.
Mosskit felt shivers running through her whole, tiny body. She couldn't remember ever being so cold. Every hair on her pelt felt icy cold. Her nose and paws had gone numb several minutes ago. And still she kept fighting to put one frozen paw in front of the other. The snow didn't seem quite as fun and pretty anymore as it had that first time. It just seemed wet and miserable and cold.
Bluefur nudged Mosskit's flank with her big, blunt muzzle, pushing her hind end forward. “Just a bit farther,” she urged quietly.
Mosskit just let out a miserable little whimper, but Stonekit plopped his tail down onto the snow and glared stubbornly at his mother. “I can't feel my paws,” he informed her in a very decisive tone. “How can I walk if I don't know where my paws are?” Privately, Mosskit agreed with him. This game wasn't fun anymore. She just wanted to go home. She slumped down onto the snow beside Mistykit, pressing herself as close to her sister's warm body as she could manage without merging into the other kit.
As a strange bird cried overhead, Bluefur stiffened, her blue eyes flashing with sudden uncertainty. Mosskit's numb pelt prickled uncomfortably. She didn't want to see her mother uncertain. She wanted her mother to be the strong one. She wanted her mother to look at her with that warm, reassuring strength and tell her exactly what to do. Seeing her mother uncertain suddenly made her all the more scared.
Bluefur suddenly crouched down, eyes sharp with determination as she told the kits, “I've got an idea.” With her wide, strong paws, she started scooping out a small hollow in the snow under a clump of ferns. “In you go,” she instructed gently. Mosskit reluctantly forced her numb paws to start moving again. She wormed her way into the hollow, one side pressed snugly up against Mistykit and Stonekit. Their pelts, just as frozen as hers, offered no extra warmth. Snow pressed against her other side, the cold digging into her fur and biting at her, bringing burning pain to whatever parts of her weren't totally numb.
Bluefur looked in at them briefly, assuring them, “I'll be back for you in a moment.” Then she bounded away, swept from view by the mist and snow.
Mosskit felt a sudden rush of alarm. “Bluefur!” she screamed, terror clawing at her chest. Bluefur was leaving her. She couldn't just do that, she couldn't! She couldn't leave Mosskit to die in the cold and the snow. She couldn't! Mosskit screamed Bluefur's name again, soon joined by Mistykit and Stonekit.
After what seemed like forever, Bluefur finally returned, drawing her kits out of the hollow. As she drew her kits in close with a wide, furry paw, Mistykit wailed, “Where did you go?”
“We thought you weren't coming back!” Mosskit yowled, her little heart still pounding with terror. She'd thought Bluefur was leaving her to die.
Bluefur's eyes flashed with sudden pain, greater than anything Mosskit had ever seen before. She crouched low, chin brushed against the backs of her kits. “Oh, my precious kits,” she murmured softly, her warm breath brushing against Mosskit's pelt. “I'll always come back.”
For one last time, Mosskit believed her.
“Having fun?”
Mosskit looked up to see Bluefur standing over her, expression warm with amusement. Mistykit and Stonekit were off chasing Runningkit and Mousekit around the base of the High Rock, leaving Mosskit to try and waddle her way around the snow by herself.
The kit shrugged, a chore with her legs so stuck in the snow. “Sort of.”
Bluefur flicked her tail. “Why only sort of?”
Mosskit sighed. “Everyone's bigger than me. They're all better at running in the snow than I am.” She glared enviously at her sibling's long, sleek legs as they stumbled after the older kits. “I'll never be as fast as them.”
The gray-blue queen let out a mew of sympathy. She crouched down so she was eye-level with the kitten, giving her that warm, reassuring gaze of hers. With a big show of looking around to see if anyone was listening, she gave her daughter a mischievous glance. “You want to know a secret?” she asked. When Mosskit nodded, she revealed, “I thought the exact same thing when I was your age,” she told her daughter.
Mosskit's eyes widened. “Really?” she breathed. She couldn't imagine her powerful mother as a tiny, awkward kit.
Bluefur nodded seriously. “I never thought my legs would be long enough to walk the whole territory. But now,” she added as she straightened back to her full height, “I've traveled to the edges of Clan territory, and so will you one day. You just have to be patient.”
Mosskit sighed. She knew her mother was trying to make her feel better, but it didn't help the fact that Mistykit and Stonekit were too busy to play with her right now. “I guess,” she mumbled.
Without warning, a clump of snow smacked into Mosskit's face. “Hey!” she yelped, reaching with a furry paw to wipe the flakes from her face. She looked up to see Bluefur with a paw raised, having just scooped up a pawful of snow to fling at her daughter. The queen's expression was mischievous and playful.
Mosskit scrunched up her face, letting out a mock hiss. “Hey, no fair!” With a playful growl, she bounded after her mother, chasing the older she-cat through the snow-covered camp at the fastest pace she could manage. Mother and daughter blundered around the camp, laughing and growling, through the sunlit snow.
”You can sleep for a while here,” Bluefur assured her kits. They were all cuddled together with their mother inside another snow hollow, all four bodies tangled together as close as they could get, but Mosskit couldn't even feel their pelts touching hers anymore. She couldn't feel anything at all, just the pain in her lungs as she drew in each new, dry, cold breath.
Mosskit's eyes were already closed by the time Bluefur had spoken. She knew her mother was there for her, she had nothing to fear by falling asleep. She was going to grow up to be Mossfur the strong. One day, she'd look back at this day in the snow and laugh. She had to.
Bluefur had promised.
As Mosskit chased after Bluefur, she suddenly felt something cold and wet land on her back. She let out a squeak of surprise. “What was that?”
Bluefur purred with amusement. “It's snowing, Mosskit,” she told her daughter. Mosskit looked up to see the soft white flakes drifting softly from the sky. Her mouth fell open, leaving her gaping in awe. It wasn't a loud, quick pounding to the ground like the rain she had seen from inside the nursery. This was a gentle dance through the sky, silent and serene. In that moment, she knew she was right. Snow came from StarClan, because snow was stars, coming to rest on the forest below. She understood StarClan's blessing. Snow was the greatest beauty they could give the forest. She was lucky to see it, and she would see it for many moons to come, as the strong, powerful warrior Bluefur told her she would one day become.
As she drifted off into sleep, Mosskit felt soft flakes falling in front of her face, tickling her whiskers. She let out a weak purr at the feeling. The last thing she whispered before slipping off forever was, “Snow comes from StarClan.”
As Mosskit ran around like crazy, furry paws batting wildly at the falling flakes, she never would've guessed that her end would come in a miserable snowy hollow less than a moon away. However, perhaps after raging at the unfairness of it all, she might've found some sense of rightness in that end.
How better to go then in the gentle silence of the snow, StarClan's gift to the forest?
