"Coming along for some training today?"

Dewkit blinked up at Jaystrike, surprised by the invitation, but one look at the scowl on Cinderblossom's face told him there would not be any training until he became a proper trainee.

"No," he sighed, kneading the ground with his paws. He had already managed to create two sizeable indents in the time between dawn and sunhigh.

Jaystrike shrugged, continuing out of the camp with Crowpaw and Webpaw in tow. The black trainee looked apologetic, while Webpaw cast the two of them curious glances. Dewkit wasn't angry with Crowpaw; after all, it hadn't been his fault that he had chosen the place where Nightchaser, Cinderblossom, and Sprucetail – the third unnamed cat – held their conversation.

When Crisp and Oats came running up to him, cream tails pin straight with excitement, Dewkit did not have the heart to tell them that he had been confined to the nursery by his mother. They begged him to come with them but all he told them was that he was tired.

Even Quartz stopped by to ask if he would be joining them. Cinderblossom's scowl only deepened and the head mentor left quickly.

"When will I be a trainee?" Dewkit sighed quietly. He had not intended for the grey queen to hear, but she answered all the same.

"If you want some trainee work to do then I'm sure Mothpelt and Lily wouldn't mind having you in the healer's den," she said sharply. "Step one foot out of camp before you become a full trainee and you won't be leaving the nursery at all."

Dewkit narrowed his hazel eyes but didn't argue. Having free reign of camp was much better than being confined to this stupid box.

Grudgingly, he began to pad across the clearing, from one corner of the camp to the other. The providers, trainees, and mentors were out for the day leaving only the queens, healers, and some of the higher-ups behind. He could see Roxanne and Condor sitting guard at the end of the alley in case of intruders, and Bronco's voice echoing quietly as he spoke with Sprucetail. Birchfrost sat on her own, back against red brick and white stomach exposed to what little sun was left.

What to do? He could go to Mothpelt and Lily in the healer's den, as Cinderblossom had suggested. Or he could go bother Bronco to teach him some fighting moves – but, on second thought, staying clear of Sprucetail might be a better idea. Birchfrost would let him hang around; he liked her because she had a limp, just like him.

Before he could make up his mind, Dewkit felt the tiniest of pinpricks on his forehead. It felt soft and wet and slightly cold. Gazing upwards, he saw the grey sky and, out of that sky, little flakes of white. There were not many at first but their numbers grew the more he stared.

What is this? he wondered. Every time one touched his fur he felt that same prick of wetness and cold. It wasn't unpleasant, just unusual. He tilted his head up and opened his jaws, trying to catch the drifting flakes. They were cool and refreshing.

He noticed one of the flakes had settled on the ground near his paws and he jumped back from it. It continued to lay there, shimmering. When he reached out to paw at it it disappeared.

"Snow." Dewkit whipped around to see Birchfrost watching him with her mismatched eyes – one blue and one gold.

"Snow," he repeated in awe. There was more of it now, larger flakes drifting down in the same lazy fashion.

"Leaf-bare has come." The grey and white she-cat rose to her paws, stretching. Her fur parted to reveal a pink scar that ran from her shoulder to her flank, curving over her side and belly.

"But the trees still have their leaves," Dewkit pointed out, tearing his eyes away from the scar. "Some are still green." Cinderblossom always told him that the trees changed colour before losing their leaves, and that was how they knew leaf-bare was coming.

Birchfrost gazed up at the greyness above grimly. "It's an early one this year."

The gravity of an early leaf-bare was lost on Dewkit as he realized the ground of the alley had very quickly turned white. It coated every mouselength of the camp, not a single spot of brown visible beneath the thin sheet.

The grey kit took it upon himself to rescue the camp floor and began to pad back and forth across the alley. His pawprints left brown patches in the blanket of white but, no matter how quickly he raced this way and that the snow fell faster. By the time he reached the end of the alley, his starting point was once again covered in white.

"You'll need to be quicker," Roxanne urged him. Condor looked at her in disbelief and Dewkit caught the grizzled tom looking pointedly at his stunted back leg. Determined to prove the tabby wrong, Dewkit raced away.

He tripped over his own paws within the first stretch, tumbling across the camp floor. He landed with a grunt of pain, Condor's snort from the other side of the alley still audible. Dewkit heaved himself to his paws and turned to see his progress.

He gasped. Of course!

Face screwed up in determination, Dewkit lurched forwards before purposely tumbling tail over paws into the snow. He purred as he saw the kit-sized patches he left in his wake.

After that, getting rid of the snow became much easier.

It was around dusk that the flakes became larger and more drop-like. Disappointed that his fun was over, but not wanting to get wet in the sudden downpour, Dewkit retreated to the nursery where Cinderblossom promptly scolded him for the mud in his fur. Gazing at his reflection in the puddle outside the den entrance, Dewkit saw a completely brown kit staring back, fur sticking out all over.

"Where did the snow go?" he asked forlornly, watching the rain pelt the camp.

"I guess it's not cold enough," Cinderblossom replied between licks. "It only snows in leaf-bare, so perhaps leaf-fall is not yet over."

Still, Dewkit could not hide his disappointment. He fell asleep to thoughts of jumping through piles of snow, his fur coated in white.

//

He awoke to something wet hitting his nose. Blinking his eyes open, Dewkit watched as a single drop hit him squarely between the eyes. He sneezed, his entire body shuddering.

"Dewkit?" Cinderblossom's mumble came from his right. She was curled up around him, her head tucked in neatly under a paw. She blinked open her eyes, the dark pupils widening as she took in the den.

"There's water leaking in," she whispered, getting to her paws and whisking him out of the nursery. Dewkit sneezed once more as the coolness of the air outside hit him and the mud beneath his paws soaked into his fur.

There were others already gathered in the centre of the camp, some shivering and others coughing. In the darkness, Dewkit could just make out the dark figures of Bronco, Condor, and Sprucetail checking the remainder of the dens.

A flash of light lit up the sky for the briefest of moments and Dewkit started back, stepping all over Birchfrost's paws. The old she-cat did not reprimand him, only wrapped her tail around him as the thunder rolled over them.

Then, before their eyes, the stacked dens of the trainees began to collapse, first the bottom one crumpling to the ground and then the others, twisting in on themselves as the cardboard gave way to the rain.

"Crowpaw's still in there!" cried Sprucetail as she padded up to the assembled cats.

Crowpaw. His friend, Crowpaw.

Without a moment's hesitation, the kit darted forwards. He could see something moving beneath the mountain of soaked boxes, struggling to get out. The more the shape moved, however, the lower the boxes fell, their weight too much.

Through that shifting cardboard Dewkit saw the hole. It was just large enough for a kit to fit through, if he made himself as flat as possible. His hind leg dragged on the ground behind him but, if he put on just one more burst of speed, he would be able to make it there before anyone else did.

He gave a mewl of distress as someone pulled him back. "Crowpaw's in there, I have to save him!"

The single eye that met his was neither kind nor cold. "We have to save him, not you alone."

Condor released him, stepping over him to get to the collapsed dens. With a swipe, he embedded his claws in the top layer and, with a mighty heave of his shoulders, dragged the box off. The remaining ones folded in further, as if eating themselves up.

"Get back to your mother," came a growl from behind Dewkit but the grey kit felt as if the mud were sucking him into the ground and holding him prisoner. He stayed put as others rushed forwards – Beaver, swiping at boxes with his thick tail; Bronco, pushing with all his might; Sprucetail, grasping layers between her teeth and pulling; Jaystrike, calling out Crowpaw's name. All the while, Crowpaw struggled beneath the boxes' weight.

The longer Dewkit watched, the more futile the rescue seemed. Every time Sprucetail pulled the wet cardboard with her teeth, it broke and left her spitting it out. Condor's claws began to rip through the boxes, breaking them apart but not easing the load; if he sank them in any deeper, he risked hitting Crowpaw.

"We need to work together!" Dewkit did not know where the command came from but everyone halted.

"What do you suggest we do?" Jaystrike asked, a note of panic in his voice.

Nightchaser stepped forward. "We find a way underneath and ease it up. It's the only way to move it at this point."

Dewkit longed to help but fear for his friend kept him still. Instead, he watched as Bronco nodded to the others and ducked a paw into the hole Dewkit had spotted earlier. On the other side, Sprucetail did the same. Together, they strained to lift and the layers slowly shifted.

Condor and Beaver stepped forward, easing their own paws under. When they had shifted the mountain a mouselength higher, Roxanne and Nightchaser, both smaller than the others, dipped their heads underneath, sliding their shoulders in to take the weight of the load. Dewkit watched in amazement as the two cats slowly straightened their legs, lifting the destroyed dens.

A frightened and soaked, but very much alive, Crowpaw shot out, nearly colliding with Dewkit in the process. The mountain of cardboard crashed down to the floor as the others abandoned their posts, splashing them all with mud.

Everyone was silent as the rain continued to fall around them.

Nightchaser stepped forward first. "What do we do now, Bronco?"

The tabby leader surveyed the dead-end alley with alarmed eyes. "We make camp for the night elsewhere. Tomorrow, we travel to Tumble-down Den."

// A little bit shorter than usual but still enough to cover everything I wanted to in this chapter. What do you think Tumble-down Den is? Will the journey there bring new adventures for Dewkit?