Mist walked through the forest. Her sister, Frost, was hunting somewhere else in the woods. Even though her mother had left them there only 3 moons ago, she felt like they had lived there forever. The rouges haven't left much prey today. I guess I'll have to eat the remains of that mouse from yesterday. She sniffed around the place where she had buried her mouse, but she couldn't find it.Just above her she heard a hawk. Nothing new. The day before one had swooped down at her and just barely missed. Her stomach growled. Maybe one of the rouges will share today? She knew the answer. Her mother's words echoed in her ears. That's just not how it works here. But her mother had spoke of a place where there was peace. A place where kits never would die. A place where the old were taken care of. She loved those stories that her mother told her every night. Those cats were strong, loving and kind. They held the power of the sun and the moon in their paws, and would fight to the death for each other.But Mist knew they could only be stories. She had faced to much hardship to believe in those tales. Her brother had been all but forgotten, but she knew she would never see him again. And then her mother left them alone here, in this cruel forest. She would never understand why. When she finally found a family, A farm cat named Sheep and her kit Robin, she was only allowed to stay until she was old enough to be weaned from milk. Now she and her sister were alone.
After hours of walking she caught the scent of crow-food. She followed it to a half eaten vole. Disgusted and starving she tried to ignore the scent and ate until the gnawing feeling in her stomach was gone. She looked up at the sky, noticing the sun was going down. She crawled into a hollow underneath a nearby tree and sadly closed her eyes, dreaming of the stories her mother had told her as a young kit. "What are you doing here?" she heard an unfamiliar hiss. Mist jumped up and was about to apologize and say that she didn't know this was their den, when she looked around and realized that she wasn't in the hollow anymore. "Where am I?" she mewed to the large gray tom. He ignored her question continuing on, "A rouge kit, wandering alone at the border. You should be with your mother." A tortoiseshell she-cat padded out of the fog to stand beside him, "Be gentle, Ashnose. We don't know what this poor, starving kit has been through. Let us find out." she said, then both of them touched their tails to her head, and everything went black.
She was once again a kit in the loud, scary place she was born. She could not see yet. She thought she heard a voice through the loud sirens. She did hear a voice! And not just any voice. A soothing familiar voice with a warm milky scent. Hungrily she scooted closer and drank some milk. While she drank she listened to the stories. "There were once strong, brave cats. Cats that could control the sun and the moon at will. When they got mad the sky would turn pitch black. The moon would cover the sun and no stars would shine. But don't be scared. They are kind. They have only darkened the sky once, and I wasn't even alive when it happened." On either side of her there was the warmth of other kits. Soon the milk stopped flowing, and Mist let out a loud cry of frustration and hunger. "I'm sorry, little one. That was all I could make. I wish I could make a better life for us all." The voice whispered sadly. Then the vision was over, replaced by a new one. One where she could see. Slowly, the haze lifted, and there was a blurry image of a large, battle torn gray she-cat. Her mother. The she turned her head and saw another kit, a small brown-and-white she-cat. "Come on Mist! Come on Frost! " a small dark gray tom purred behind her. She tried to stand up, but was to weak to. She then heard another cat come in and shakily turned her over-sized head to see a large brown and gray tom with a scratch on his eye walked towards her. " This one is strong. But those two," he said, flicking his tail towards the Frost and Mist and shaking his head, " they aren't strong enough. We both know Red will want them gone." Where are we going? Can Mama come to? she thought. "Fern, they're only a few days old. They will get stronger." she said, staring at him fiercely. "Tell that to Red and Dark. They will be in two days to see if they are worth the trouble. The pack can't afford to feed three worthless kits." "Just two days?" her Mama gasped with alarm. "But-but she isn't supposed to come for a moon!" Fern shook his head sadly, and just then she realized that the large cat cared about them almost as much as Mama did.
There was one more vision. Mist shakily stood in front of two large cats. One ginger and one black. On one side of her there was her brother, standing as tall as he could. On her other side there was her Frost, her eyes hardly open. The black tom-cat was looking at her brother, while the red she-cat was stared at her and her sister distastefully. "These two look weak." she mumbled, then she lifted her paw and gently swung a it at them, knocking them both over. "They can't even stand up straight." she growled, "These two won't do. Dark, what have you learned about the tom?" "Shade seems strong enough." Dark replied. "Good, we will have another warrior. However these two will be disposed of tomorrow morning." Disposed of? What does that mean? she thought, then looked over to ask her mother when she realized that her mama was crying. Then it struck her. She remembered a kit slightly older than her struggling to get away from Fern yesterday. She had heard a squeal then, which quickly died off. Mist had assumed it was a squeal of joy. She didn't take into account that the kit didn't come back out. A lump formed in the young kit's throat as her mother and Fern picked her and Frost, and carried them towards the den as her brother scampered behind them.
"Now listen you two," her Mama said with tears in her eyes, "Red and Dark have given me until tomorrow to get rid of you before they do." Frost was trying to stand up straight. It was no secret she had been a very sickly kit, and it was a wonder that she had even survived the moon before. "Y-yes mama," Mist answered for them both. Then her Mama picked up Frost and gestured for Mist to follow them.
The sounds of the forest came as a surprise to her. As nerve-racking and strange as the time they encountered a small dog. The dog was not going to hurt them, strangely enough. Probably a pet, though Mist could not judge, as her Mama had eaten kittypet food time and time again. Still, it's hot, smelly breath so close to her face that she could feel it blowing her whiskers made her want to squeal in fear and hide behind her mama. That was how she felt now. Only this time her Mama couldn't lash out with claws unsheathed.
Reality came back to her and the two odd cats that had somehow tapped into her memories stared at her, awe and horror in their eyes. "A death pack member...." the she-cat whispered, "...could it be the one in the- no,no forget I said anything." She cut herself off and turned to the tom, "What should we do with her- I mean them?" Mist took that as a sign her sister had returned. "I'm not sure if she's the cat we think she is, Blossomstar, but we can't leave any kit alone in the forest. We shall send a message to the clans tonight. Stay where you are, kit, and rest well, for tomorrow your entire life will change." With that last word the dream began to fade into darkness, and Mist's dreams now swam with horrifying images of her newly remembered past.

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Thanks again to https://www.quotev.com/Rougecat She is such a great artist!