" rest now, my descendant. for i am glad they do not shame you for your heart. "

Within a forest of fear and terror being the primary language and dances of claws and teeth displaying who would be the next tyrant, there lays a mother and her kits within a nest.

The den's entrance is blocked off by her captors as she laps at the mewling kits heads, her heart aching as she wished they would fall quiet, or the cats outside the den may know that she had given birth at last. She did not wish for this. She did not want her children to be taken.

So she takes a last resort, picking up the two kits and hiding them under the moss of the nest, muffling their meows, yet not suffocating them. They were barely moving from the lack of energy and food, the queen having been starved.

With tired paws, she padded to the small boulder covering the entrance, and her voice spoke out.

"It's over. My kits are dead, and I am next to fall. Have I paid yet for this injustice?"

And as she waited a few heartbeats, realizing there was no response, she sighed and went to turn away, to uncover her kits, and keep praying to StarClan to be saved from her plight. Yet.. She heard the rumbling of the small boulder being moved, and the heavy breathing of a cat.

Her eyes lit up as she saw.. A young apprentice in the entrance of the den, ginger-furred and wide-eyed. Their jaw was lightly open ashe padded forward, toward the queen, making her bristle defensively, causing the apprentice to seemingly get scared, hopping backwards, and speaking in a hushed tone.

"W-- Woah there! I don't want any trouble, I just.. Didn't know that there was a queen trapped in here.." The apprentice mewled, making the queen's heart soften somewhat, yet it was cold and haunted as she stared at the younger feline.

"You.. Didn't know?" Her voice was somber and pitiful.

"No-- No! I really didn't, your kits.. Oh no.." The apprentice stumbled over to the nest, smelling the kits clearly, yet frowning widely at the lack of sight of them. The queen sighed and padded over, moving the moss to uncover the two kittens, making the apprentice gasp.

"They're alive?"

"Yes.. I fear not for long. I have to get them out of here before the rest of your clan wakes up, young apprentice.. What's your name?"

"Uhm.. Dogpaw." The apprentice responded, his noise wrinkling at their own name, as if he had a distaste for it, making the exhausted queen smile. She then frowned, realizing what was to come.

"Well, Dogpaw.. Can you do me a really, really big favor?" She meows, her eyes quiet and sad, the apprentice's heartstrings effectively tugged as he frowned widely.

"Yeah.. Yeah!- I can do anything, I wouldn't want to leave a queen without help." Dogpaw replies quickly, seeming intent and loyal to his new cause, his gaze clearly pondering what was the favor, but the queen picked the slightly mewling kits from the nest and padded to him, before she spoke.

"Take the kits and run. I'll cause a distraction.. Please, take them to the border. My clan does patrols every morning. I want them to live, and I know I won't." Her voice muffled as she set the two kits between the two, the apprentice looking anxious and upset.

"But there has to be a way for you to make it! You're their mom.."

"I'm starving to death, Dogpaw. You don't know me and I don't know you, but I've seen it all. I'm willing to die if it means my two kits get to be okay."

Dogpaw stares in uncertainty before picking up the two kits, nodding.

The queen suddenly darts out of the den, and across the camp, according to his ears, yowling loudly and hissing, causing cats to wake and spring out of dens, drawing their attention, and causing the cats guarding the camp to leave their posts in order to handle the escaped prisoner, the clan cruel as life itself going to silence her.

Dogpaw leaps into action, leaving the den and escaping through the nearest entrance, hearing spitting and screeching as he ran through the wilderness, his eyes adjusted to the dark as the sounds faded into the distance. He kept running aimlessly, not caring if he disturbed sleeping prey or those of the sort, his focus on trying to detect the scent of the border, and to keep the kits in his grasp.

And he skids to a stop when he smells the border,nearly tumbling over his paws. He sees how things will go, the idea that maybe they wouldn't notice the kits, so he make a quick attempt to make a strong-smelling area, crushing herbs and berries he found near the kits and laying them around the kits, hoping that'll be enough, matching his enemy clan scent.

But as he pads away, making sure the kits were hidden in a bush, he heard pawsteps ahead of him. Someone from his clan noticed.

..His mentor, Haildusk, fur raised and glaring. "You got rid of the kits and freed the queen? We were going to make them fine warriors, you mouse-brain!" He snarls, getting directly in Dogpaw's face, teeth gritted as the ginger apprentice stumbled backward, yet away from the bush the kits were hidden in.

He felt his mentor's teeth dig roughly into his scruff, dragging him violently through the undergrowth. He knew he'd get punished by being forced to fight a warrior or two in order to be taught a lesson due to this, but he hoped.. That maybe this will mean the kits would be safe.

Feeling sticks and brambles dig into his pelt and his arms scrambling against the ground, he got lightly scratched and bruised from the terrain as his mentor growled through his scruff about how exactly much of a screw-up he was. Dogpaw didn't care. He had done something he saw more noble than anything in his clan.

He was returned to camp, being dropped roughly to the ground as his gaze panned over. He could smell blood, and see the corpse. The corpse of the mother. She was right; she wasn't going to live. He frowned widely as his mentor kicked him in the ribs with a front paw. "Go to your den. You'll need the rest for the training tomorrow."

So he gets to his paws, and walks to the den, laying down in his nest as he hears the other apprentices murmur and chuckle.

He was 12 moons old. And almost ready to become a warrior.

Yet somewhere else, in that morning as the sun would rise once again on the forest, a patrol of cats murmured and glared across the border. The patrol leader, Foxhowl, would scent something odd in the air, making him bark a command to the rest of the patrol to stay still and be on watch.

He growled under his breath, the scent of the enemy clan, RiverClan, was potent in the air as he crawled forward, getting closer to the source, yet the scent of herbs off-put him a bit.

Then he heard mewling, making his fur rise and him immediately part the bushes to see.. Two kits, colored similarly to a queen who had gone missing not too long ago, making his heart drop. His sister's kits. And she was nowhere to be found.

He picked them up and walked back to the patrol with no sound, ignoring his patrolmate's murmurs and concerns as he walked past them, straight to camp as he could feel his eyes get inflamed, swollen, and dripping with tears as he made it back into ValleyClan camp.

Setting down the kits, he called out for the medicine cat, before fainting from the shock of everything.

fin.