The field outside of Caveclan’s home is calm today. A light breeze runs through the grass, sending a shiver down Batstar’s spine. Leaf-bare is on the horizon, its cold claws digging into the very dirt he stands on. His tail fluffs up in response, and he shakes himself off before continuing his patrol.

He glances back towards the entrance to the cave system that Caveclan calls home, spotting Russetclaw and Bluewing sharing tongues in the sun, along with Smokepaw and Ravenfeather tussling in the grass. He purrs softly to himself, happy to see his clan thriving.

It’s been a long week, with Serpentclan’s warriors growing too close to their territory. He’s had to chase a bunch of them away the last few days, which is exhausting and worrying at the same time. The dark clan was getting bolder with their movements. It doesn’t help that Caveclan itself isn’t the largest of clans.

Serpentclan… The large group of felines run by Serpentstar. An evil cat, holding no mercy for anyone who strays in his path. The mere idea of him causes Batstar’s fur to bristle. The things he’s heard from his son, Smokepaw, who was the result of a fling with Serpentstar’s daughter, are vile.

He shakes his head, brushing the thoughts away from his mind. No time to worry, he’s got a patrol to finish.

The large feline paces through the field, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for any strange activity. When he doesn’t find anything out of the ordinary, he continues his journey through their territory, scenting the air as he goes.

Eventually, Batstar grows closer to the small forested part of their territory, where they haven’t had much time to explore. Now is likely a good time, as the sun is still high in the sky.

With a huff, he leaps onto a log, surveying the area as much as he can from this vantage point. He spots a few prey running around, and he distantly reminds himself to tell Ravenfeather about this spot later. He knows the young warrior has been looking for a new place to hunt.

Batstar freezes when the crack of a stick rings out from in front of him. His ears perk, twitching in response to the stimuli.

With narrowed eyes, he stalks forward, his tail low and muscles tense. Anything could’ve made a noise like that, but from everything he’s been through, the older clan leader knows to be wary.

As he grows closer to the source of the sound, he’s hit with a scent he knows all too well from how many times he’s smelled it. It’s a kit. And a distressed one, at that. This alone sets off every alarm bell in his head.

Batstar pushes through a bush and eventually spots the little one curled up at the base of a trunk. They’re either unconscious or asleep, and he firmly believes it’s the former with their terrible condition.

Skinny, dirty… the works. He bites back a worried meow, padding closer and lowering himself down to the kit’s level. The poor thing is barely alive, their breathing labored and faint. It saddens him to know that a she-cat is out there somewhere, either abandoning this kit or has passed herself.

He knows right then that he’s got a new member of the family.

Picking the kitten up in his jaws by the scruff without hesitation, he practically sprints back to the cave system, dodging past the rest of his sons and heading towards Ashpelt’s—The old medicine cat, who should be retired now but isn’t—den.

He explains the situation, and while Ashpelt gathers some medicines to help the kitten, Batstar finds himself curling around them, praying silently to Starclan to save this little life.

“Come on, little one,” He murmurs, his long-furred tail gently lying on top of the kit, “You’ll be okay.”