When the snow came it did not stop. Flake after flake, storm after storm; to little Dewkit, it seemed endless. Dark masses roiled the sky while the earth below became utterly pale. Even the guards, sitting steadfastly by their posts around Tumble-Down Den became alabaster statues.

Tucked into his warm nest, Dewkit could only think about how cold Hazel and Soren had to be.

Since their arrival at the new camp, things had not changed for the better. Even a quarter moon later a thin layer of tension filled the air, so fragile the slightest misstep would tear it apart. Dewkit did his best to stay away from the irritable mentors and the equally annoyed trainees, but fear of boredom quickly got him into trouble. Already Quartz had snapped at him, and Cinderblossom berated him for getting underpaw. Even Mothpelt and Beaver, who generally welcomed the kit's presence, seemed on edge.

Today he would stay in his nest. Today he would pretend he did not exist so Condor's sharp growl would not suddenly stop him in his tracks, or Sprucetail's command would not have him skidding to a halt.

He hated being a kit. He hated being the only kit.

The trainees did not have it much better, though. With leafbare here, Bronco declared a decrease in training in order to save on freshkill. Training drained the trainees and left them tired and hungry, something the alley cats could not afford. Already, the meagre freshkill pile had disappeared – and it was only sunhigh.

Dewkit felt his stomach rumble and curled himself up tighter. The first time he saw snow he was enchanted; now, with the threat of hunger hanging over him, he didn't feel quite the same.

"Staying out of trouble?"

The kit turned his eyes from the falling snow to the dark tabby sitting in the corner of the den.

"I got tired," he explained before turning back to the storm.

"And hungry, I assume," Killian observed.

Dewkit's stomach rumbled again. Cinderblossom had gone out at dawn to see if she could catch anything, leaving her kit under the strict watch of Killian. She seemed to trust him, though many of the others did not. Besides that, he was often the only cat in camp without an assigned task.

"Cinderblossom's out there somewhere," he replied. He hoped she would be back soon.

Killian shuffled closer. "Indigo is too. And Bramblefire and Mira and Leo. Condor too, if I'm not mistaken. And Nightchaser, of course."

Dewkit nodded. No one had seen Nightchaser for days.

"Want a bite?" The dark tabby dropped something before the nest and the hot smell of blood hit Dewkit unexpectedly. He tore into the small mouse ravenously, only stopping when he realized there was nothing left.

"I'm sorry," he mewed, looking at the bare bones. Small scraps hung here and there, but not enough to feed a full-grown cat.

"When was the last time you ate?" Killian asked, snapping up one of the bones. It crunched loudly between his fangs.

Dewkit paused. "Two dusks ago?" There had only been enough prey the day before to feed the trainees, who had gone without the day prior. Two small mice, a shrew, and a small bird.

"We need better hunters out there," Killian commented, another bone disappearing.

"They are out there," Dewkit said quietly. The dark storm clouds above hung ominously and the tom felt as if an incredible weight were pushing down on them all.

"I'm not out there." The dark tabby twitched his whiskers.

"No, you're here watching me," the kit replied.

"You're not doing anything," the tabby pointed out.

Dewkit shrugged. "You're free to go, as far as I'm concerned."

The crunch of bones filled the silence between them until that, too, dissolved into nothingness. Dewkit strained his crumpled ears, hoping for any sound at all, but the only thing that came to him was the howling wind. Not a soul stirred as the flakes continued to drift down, ghost-like and translucent.

"You seem older than you really are."

The grey tom gave the tabby a sidelong glance. "How so?"

"Well, for one, I've never seen a kit sit this still."

"I'm crippled, remember?" Dewkit didn't hold back the bite in his voice, making sure Killian heard it loud and clear.

"I've also never seen a crippled kit move so quickly," the tabby responded. "You were doing quite well outrunning that dog."

Dewkit flicked his short tail. "Have you ever even seen a crippled kit?"

Killian hesitated. "Yes. But he was killed many seasons ago."

The kit nodded, leaving it at that.

Yet, the longer the two of them sat watching the snow blow outside the more curiosity Dewkit felt. He knew almost nothing about Killian, though the tabby did not come across as secretive.

"What was the name of this crippled kit?" he asked finally.

Killian twitched his whiskers, as if he'd known all along that Dewkit would ask. "Jed."

"What kind of name is Jed?" the grey tom asked, screwing up his nose as a cold gust of wind entered their shelter.

The tabby moved closer so that their fur brushed. "Jed is the kind of name a mother gives to the littermate of a Killian, I suppose."

Dewkit felt a pang of guilt. "He was your brother?"

"Yes. He was born a few moments before me, actually, but I ended up taking on the role of the eldest when I discovered he had a stunted back leg." He flicked his tail pointedly at Dewkit's own.

"What do you mean, 'discovered'? It's kind of hard to miss." Dewkit lay his head down on his front paws, though his ears remained angled in Killian's direction.

"As a kit, I didn't realize he was different," the tom continued. "I knew he was slower, a little more awkward, and less skilled at running and climbing and jumping than the rest of us. But that didn't stop him from playing moss ball with me, or racing me around our little den. In greenleaf, if we could find grass tough enough, I would get him to wrap it around my back legs, tight, so our races would be more fair."

"What happened when you grew older?"

Killian's tone changed, a note of sadness hidden deep within it. "The rest of the world did not see a need to be fair. To it, Jed was just a sorry excuse for a cat, a waste of space. Why spend resources and energy on someone who will never contribute like everyone else?"

Dewkit pushed back his ears. "I don't like this story."

"Neither do I," the dark tabby sighed. "To me, Jed was the perfect brother. He may have had a crippled back leg, but so what? He was incredibly smart – he figured out how to catch fish that greenleaf! He found a way to scale the tree nearest our den in case a fox ever attacked, he must have practiced that for moons. He learned to use his stunted leg as a fighting technique, swinging it club-like through the air at his opponents.

"Just because the rest of the world didn't see him as whole doesn't mean he wasn't."

The kit turned his hazel eyes to Killian. "What happened to him?"

"They took him away." The tabby's voice was choked, the wind almost drowning it out.

"Who did?"

"The Marked."

"They killed him?"

"Yes."

Dewkit glanced down at his leg. It lay limp beside him at an odd angle to his body. The idea that he might still be able to climb, and fight, and hunt despite his disability gave him some hope. The outcome of Jed's story snuffed it all out.

His eyes wandered back to the falling snow. The perfect blanket of white had been disturbed by the pawprints of those returning from their hunts. None seemed too pleased with their catches.

"The Marked – who are they?" Dewkit asked, watching Indigo place a thrush in the small hole dug out for the freshkill pile.

"We loners and rogues call them the Marked for the scars on their shoulders," Killian replied. "It's their most identifiable feature and the first warning sign of danger when they approach."

"So I should stay away from them," the kit said, shifting closer to the tabby as another cold gust of wind blew past.

"You can try," the rogue said. "But with this lot you might have a tough time doing it."

"Are the Marked nearby?" Dewkit pressed, yearning for more.

"Closer than you think," Killian responded grimly. His expression brightened as Cinderblossom approached, a shrew in her jaws.

"Managed to snag this." The freshkill dropped to the ground with a thud. "It's not much, but I haven't been out hunting for nearly six moons now. I'm just glad I could get one."

"It's a good catch," the tom acknowledged.

"Dewkit, you must be hungry," Cinderblossom pressed, pushing the shrew closer.

The remnants of his earlier hunger rumbled in Dewkit's belly. The shrew looked scrumptious but the guilt would weigh too heavily in his stomach later.

"I, uh, already ate," he said sheepishly, glancing at Killian. "He caught a mouse and we shared it."

Cinderblossom's face took on a slightly crestfallen look. "Oh, well, I'm sure there will be more freshkill for us to share some other day." She picked the rodent back up and began to pad in the direction of the freshkill pile.

"What about yourself?" Killian called after her. The she-cat stopped. "We'll take a bite, if you don't want to eat it alone."

The grey queen shook her head. "I'm fine. If I need company I'll go share it with Mothpelt." She padded off quickly, as if afraid the tabby would change her mind.

The guilt descended on Dewkit regardless of his stomach, which growled angrily at him for refusing the freshkill. One look at the freshkill pile told him others would be going to their nests even more hungry tonight.

The bushes at the end of the garden rustled as more of the hunters arrived. Leo held a mouse in his jaws, while Bramblefire had managed to hunt down a one-winged magpie. Roxanne placed a frog on the pile and Dewkit shivered at the thought of its sliminess on his tongue. Then again, if he were hungry enough – like Beaver, who snatched it up moments later – he might consider eating it too.

It looked like another bleak day, hunger-wise. Dewkit shivered with the realization that this was only the beginning of a hard leafbare.

The bushes rustled again, revealing Nightchaser as he stepped through. A sudden hush came over the camp and everyone watched with lust-filled eyes as the black tom dragged a rabbit over to the freshkill pile. It dwarfed every other piece in size, big enough to feed all of the trainees for the night.

Then, done with his task, Nightchaser approached Dewkit and Killian. Unsure what to do, the kit rose to his paws; Killian remained still.

"Dewkit, I believe it's time," the black tom said. There was something like disdain in his voice, but the grey kit did not know what it meant.

"Time for what?" he squeaked, avoiding his white-rimmed eyes.

Nightchaser's features softened from their perpetual hardness for just a moment. "You're six moons old now, aren't you?"

"Six moons – " It hit him when he glanced over at Webpaw and Crowpaw, who were eagerly eyeing the rabbit Nightchaser dragged in.

He followed the tom proudly out into the garden, settling down in a large patch of snow while Nightchaser leaped up onto a low-hanging branch. Bronco, noticing the commotion, gave a flick of his tail and followed suit. Slowly, the rest of the alley cats gathered.

"Today we come together to see a kit become a trainee," Bronco announced, looking right at Dewkit. The grey kit puffed out his chest, only to curl into himself as Cinderblossom came rushing forward, peppering his head and shoulders with licks.

"Cinderblossom, stop!" he whined. A couple of the surrounding cats sniggered.

"You're my only kit," she replied with one last lick. "And the new healer's apprentice at that!"

Dewkit felt his heart stop. "Healer's apprentice?"

The entire camp seemed to hold its breath as Cinderblossom nodded. "Yes, healer's apprentice. Why wouldn't you want to be one?"

"I hate herbs," Dewkit replied.

"But you'll be very good at sorting them," the queen assured him.

"I don't want to sort, I want to hunt and fight!" he protested.

"Mothpelt will be a great mentor!" she replied, voice rising.

"But I don't want to be a healer!" Dewkit shouted.

The silence was as thick as the storm around them.

"From now on, you will be known as Dewpaw," Nightchaser cut in, stepping forward. "You will train with the other trainees underneath the direction of your mentors, headed by Quartz. Any special training will occur on your own time, but only if you ask for further mentorship. You will receive your full name when the time comes."

Dewpaw nodded his head, touching his nose eagerly to Nightchaser's, as he had seen Robin, Crisp, and Oats do with Bronco when they became trainees. The black tom drew away quickly.

"Dewpaw!" Beaver was the first to call his new name and, soon, everyone had joined in – even Finch and Soren, who normally went out of their way to be rude to him.

"Congratulations," Cinderblossom said stiffly, giving her kit another swift lick.

"I haven't done anything yet," Dewpaw muttered, shaking the snow out of his fur. His ears burned with embarrassment as he noticed some of the alley cats looking their way, whispering to each other. He avoided Mothpelt's gaze altogether, afraid of the hurt he might find there.

"You've survived so far," Sprucetail pointed out, padding over. "That's something every cat should be proud of."

Unsure of how to take her comment, Dewpaw held his tongue. Then, his eyes fell on the three scars on the black she-cat's shoulder. His argument and ceremony fell away.

"Indeed, well done," Birchfrost said, joining them. She, too, had three long scars marring her grey and white fur. Dewpaw's eyes widened.

"Training will commence tomorrow!" Bronco's announcement sent up a cheer from the trainees, who had settled down around the rabbit and were eagerly tearing into it.

Dewpaw stuttered as he spoke. "I - I think I'll join my new denmates," he said.

He rushed away from Sprucetail, Birchfrost, and Cinderblossom much too quickly, finding a place between Crowpaw and Crisp around the rabbit. The others made room for him, some more willingly than others, but Dewpaw's thoughts were far away from the other trainees' acceptance of him.

From across the camp, Killian's amber eyes met his before sliding away lazily, as if he had nothing to do with Dewpaw's newfound fear.

// Only 10 minutes late (mountain time...)! I've been so incredibly busy – just got back from my roadtrip on Sunday, had a lot of errands to run and things to do the last couple of days and I just got down to writing again. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it, as will the Lightpaw update on Sunday (hopefully). Thanks for putting up with my absences :)