private LOST AND FOUND ✿ within the shelter v2

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

Their dark cage rocked and then the rag that blocked out the world was swept aside. Daisyflight winced, long and slow, before looking to the tortie pelt beside her. Pallid light doused their surroundings, that sour, soulless tone twolegs seemed to prefer above all else. "Butterflytuft?" She felt her daughter’s heartbeat against her side but couldn’t help but call for confirmation, to ask if she was okay. Somewhere behind them, a lanky form wrapped in red fumbled with the metal scraps on the box.

The trip in the monster had tempered a little of her fury, with what remained being as stubborn as long-burnt coals. More than anything though, the molly felt a deep fear. Fear of Snowpaw being separated from them, that their missing clanmates would be in this dungeon- or wouldn’t. She didn’t know which was worst.

A strident creak drew her ears flat. In an awkward manoeuvre, Daisyflight twisted against the metal to face the twoleg. To her shock, a leaden paw had begun to reach for Butterflytuft through the open arch. "Get off of her!" The hiss was spat from the calico like the pop of a campfire, scorn clear even as she began to spring from the metal.

Claws promised for the tan skin of the creature’s face met only partial success. One paw clipped its jaw while the others fell on thick fabric, hooking out loops of thread. Daisyflight’s eyes ballooned in alarm as a wide palm grasped her side, the twoleg expelling a cavernous breath. For a moment she thought she might slip free but its grip was too strong.

Swaddled in a blanket and swung into a wall-cage with haste, the warrior was released. For so long, this place had been a wicked mystery to her and now she sat within its belly, alone. With what little view she had, Daisyflight tried to track the twolegs actions as it returned to Butterflytuft. Where was Snowpaw? Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught what she thought was a familiar pelt. Mind still smoked with panic, she couldn't place it- clanmate or loner.

"You-! Do you know of skyclan, have any cats from the pine forest been through this shelter?" The words were clipped with urgency. All the while, she sought out a smudge of her kits’ silhouettes in the corridor.

/ the twoleg will leave after dropping off @Snowpaw and @butterflytuft ! open to any cats in the shelter
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✿ ✿ ✿​

 

[Snowpath]

He had remained huddled in the back of the cage the entire trip, eyes wide; twin suns blown out and staring off into the distance at the tangles of wires and shadows, the distant rumbling and jolts as the monster pitched and wobbled aggressively underpaw. He could not see the trap with his mother and sister in it until they were lifted, until the briefest flash of light made him realize they were inside some place with a false sun and snow white walls. The cloth was pulled back, he blinks in alarm as he's tipped and rocked forward into a heap inside another steel structure but one far more sturdy than the trembling mesh that had caught him before. The sounds of cat yowls reach his ears and he remains low to the ground, ears flattened as he watches the two-leg step away and its only then that his limbs begin to cooperate again, no longer paralyzed with the fear of this odd place and horrible upwalkers. White paws creep him forward to the bars and he pushes his cheek against the cold metal to try and peek around with a wavering and hushed tone, "Dais-Mom? Mom? Butterfly??"
He could only see the rows of cages opposite him, dark shapes settled inside; the unmistakable outline of other cats. Some wore collars like a kittypet, others looked more feral and ragged than even he did as a forest born SkyClanner.
A voice rises up, authority in its tone and he gives a gasp of surprise and relief at the familiarity of it, "Mom?" That had to be her.
​

 

[angelina]

So Bite Your Tongue and Watch Your Back​

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"Oh so there's more of you." The huff came from a snow-hued molly, curled up in her own cage, narrowed green eyes watching the new felines now resting in the metal prisons that made up this place. Licking a white paw to groom herself. "Are you going to be like the other rowdy ones? Because it starts getting old fast." The pretty femme scoffed, flicking an ear as an unimpressed expression lay on her face. The youth, similar to most, and unlike most, didn't have much hope for freedom beyond the cages. Blazestar this, Blazestar that, it's unlikely the tom would come. What's one cat going to do against a bunch of vile up-walkers? ​

 

[QUILLSTRIKE]

DARK BLUE, DARK BLUE, HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ALONE IN A CROWDED ROOM?
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---

The enraged cries of a familiar voice had Quillstrike on his paws in a heartbeat, fur bristling and eyes wide as he watched the twolegs bring in their latest victims- and to his dismay, it was more of Skyclan. Jaw clenched in anger as he was forced to stand there and do nothing, not even the strength of his shoulders or sharpness of his claws enough to free him from his metal prison.

He hated it.

"Daisyflight!" he called from his cage, heart torn between the relief he felt at seeing another familiar face, and the sinking horror of knowing that their clan was still being picked apart cat by cat.

A low growl echoed in his chest as he watched the shecat be separated from her family, the feeling of being yanked away from Twitchbolt rising fresh to the surface with a hateful lash of his tail.

"We're here- all of us, even Howlpaw." he informed her as her question echoed out into the room, sending the other shecat a cold look before turning his attention back toward the Skyclanners. If any of these strays had known anything about being a part of a clan, they'd understand the frustration that Quill and the others were experiencing, clawing to scraps of hope rather than resigning themselves to their fate.
​

---

skyclan - male - 14 months (Feb 17th) - bisexual - homoromantic - single - a very tall, dark chimera tomcat with mismatched eyes and several scars. has bluejay feathers woven like spikes along his spine and neck.

 

[DOOMPAW]

He doesn't know much else -- what came before this place is a memory sloughed away, faded to nothing. He does not recall the warmth of a mother's flank, or the scent of her milk as it nourished him. He knows only the rough wool blanket beneath him, it's scent astringent and harsh like his own. He knows the itch in his shabby fur, a sensation like his skin crawling, the strange watery food he takes sitting like mud in his belly. He knows Artorias is with him.

The tall creatures come back in, and they have new cats. Big cats. His fur fluffs up as a tall creature gets close to the bars of his cage, and he hisses and spits madly, fiercely. It does not put its fleshy appendages into their den. It jostles other cats into their places and then leaves.

He still doesn't relax. The cats are yowling to each other. Strange names, foreign words. He narrows his eyes, still losing their kit-blue, and stomps on the floor of his cage. It makes a loud, resounding racket, likely unbearable to whomever has the ceiling of the cage below him.

"Too loud," he growls to his brother. They are too loud, everything hurts his sensitive ears.

// feel free to be the cat underneath his cage​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[Abysspaw]

"LOUD!" It is an echo, an affirmation. His voice repeats in a mimicry of the other kitten as he wriggles out from under the blanket in their metallic box, the fabric ruffles his orange coat and frizzes out his fur as he pulls away from it; heavily plodding steps carrying him awkwardly forward alongside the spotted hide of his brother and he joins him in his stomping with little hesitation. As he does his little spinning tantrum of a dance he catches the scent of the wilderness, a sharp pine, heavy soil, the faintest whiff of light rain; its all very foreign to him and he pauses where he stands to lift his head curiously with pink nose wrinkling in obvious uncertainty. "What's that?" Smell, noise, the presence of new shapes blurring together beyond their bars, it was hard to tell what he meant exactly but Artorias waddled forward to shove his face into the thin spindles of metal blocking their escape; pushing hard enough to squish his cheeks and pull back his eyes into a squint.

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[SNAPPAW]

Just below, a patchworked cat lays in silence, curled up in the corner of his own box as he watches the world beyond the metal bars that confine him to this small space of his. It's this small space that Snapdragon only fears to be his new home forever, that one day he'll grow too big that he can't even stand in his prison.

Mother's going to be so mad at him, if he ever gets out of here! He does not know how long its been now, since curiosity got the best of him, since the first set of metal bars collapsed over him, but, she must be looking everywhere for him!

The sound of the twolegs' arrival leaves the kid spring to his paws. "Out!" he shouts at them, though he hardly knows its only a shrill meow to their ears. White feet swipe at the metal bars as he begins his daily - or, maybe even more than that - routine. They'll have to listen at some point, Snapple thinks. It's such a simple word; they have to understand. "Out! Out! Let me... out!"

It's a chant typically repeated until the twolegs disappear, but this time, a loud thud comes from the box above, startling the young cat. They blink, before paws begin to swipe at the ceiling above him. "Out! Out!"

There's a new voice breaking through his chant. Or... maybe two new voices? Snapdragon doesn't know for sure. It's so hard to hear things in this place, sometimes.

Golden ears twitch as he hears a word he's been hearing more and more often with each passing day, and white paws pause once more as he sticks his muzzle between the metal bars, teal gaze peering out to try to get a glimpse of the newcomers. There's bound to be more as the days go on, of course. Snapdragon has noticed the increase in cats being brought here - in those falling to the same fate as he'd done.

But, more often the words uttered by them are odd, a shared knowledge passed between them all. SkyClan, SkyClan, they say. Snapple doesn't know what that is, doesn't know why it's so special to them, but, whatever it is, he fears these cats will never get back to it.
​

 

[shrewflight.]

Pocket was born here. It's smell was far too familiar. Just missing his warm mother's embrace. The cold cells they were set in was lonely. He didn't think when he was dropped off here he'd be here so long. His no-fur would be back though. He knew of it, deep in his heart. It's what quickened his days and turned time into a blur, waiting to see the familiar tall female open the door and hold her arms out. As the doorknob jiggled, the brown kittens ears perked and his olive green eyes brightened. But alas, a familiar face shoving more cats who are frightened into their cell.

everyone was so frantic, making his ears fold back and move to tuck himself into a corner. his no-furs would be back to save him from the unfamiliar faces that now surrounded him.

"My no-fur will be back, and maybe I can convince her to rescue all of us!" he exclaims, though realized his outburst, he curled his tail around his paws nervously, counting down to avoid the sickening feeling filling his stomach. He rarely talked, too shy to make friends here. Perhaps the first words hes spoken in a few nights of sleep. Has it only been a few nights? The days were hard to tell from in here. "Sorry," he muttered, pawing at the blue bowtie on his collar.

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

His fitful slumber was awoken by commotion. Through the nights he hadn't been sleeping well, so often he found himself drifting off in daylight. Even if it was only for a few minutes, it was- fine, he supposed. Enough to not die. Not that being alive at the moment was much fun. At least he still had Quillstrike. Even if they couldn't see each other, they'd been... talking, just as much as they had been with everyone else. But some were obviously getting sick of it. Getting old- if he could reach out to whoever had said that and smack them he would. Idiot, whoever said that. Cold, callous- as if they couldn't understand why they had been complaining-

Simmering anger toward flippant nastiness was soon forgotten, though- the familiar scent of SkyClan, and a name that frequented the air- familiar voices, familiar voice-

"Daisy- Daisyflight!" He shattered his own silence, craning his neck- but he couldn't get a good look, not in the... box. There were voices everywhere- mewls and yowls and scoffs, and he just wanted everyone to shut up so he could get a good look at- her, and- someone else. Two others. Names, names- strange names to the kittypets here, but to Twitchbolt they rang of home.

It was a horrible feeling of familiarity. This was not the sort of reunion he had wished for- was the entirety of SkyClan going to end up here, eventually?

"Butterflytuft and Snowpaw? Right? I'm- StarClan, are they ever gonna stop?" His ragged voice was even more frayed with the threat of tears. Every time that those- those hairless beasts ambled in, everything just got worse. Worse and worse and worse... worse than the worst-case his mind had conjured up in shadowed dreams.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[BRAMBLEHEART]

જ➶ How did he end up here? One moment he was following directions and the next he was being picked up by a Twoleg. Granted he didn't think that anything was wrong and they handled him gently enough. Petted him, took a look at his pink collar and then brought him here. Now there is so much noise and the chimera feels himself curling into himself. The pain of his overworked joints making him feel even more anxious than before. The voices surrounding his small little cage makes him nervous and he doesn't dare to peek out and see what is going on. Shifting his limbs a wince ticks across his face for a moment before he lets out a soft sigh. They are loud but he supposes they have a right to be given the circumstances. They are most certainly braver than himself. Honestly he just wishes he can go home instead of continuing this fool's errand. He'll never find him anyway. So what's the point. ​

 

[Junco]

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There was a sigh through the pink nose of the young cat as they looked over at the others' as they complained of things being too loud or what have you. There seemed to be a influx of cats in the shelter and it didn't surprise them. The humans where determined to make things difficult for those who live outside their world. They call out names like Daistflight, Snowpaw and the like. Their names where interesting, strange in a way, and they spoke about this Skyclan- what was that? Pale grey eyes looked out from the depths of the cage before flicking a white tail, "Yelling and struggling isn't going to help, the furless beings are rather prone to being yelled at," They spoke softly, solemnly.

Junco had been in the shelter for the last month or so, many of the humans had passed by their cage and things seemed to be bleak in the midst of the shelter. Though these cats seemed to still have their spirit in wanting to get out. Junco had given up on fighting, on struggling and was more so just sitting and waiting for the time being. The charcoal cat flicked a white tail back and forth for a moment before speaking once more, "What is this Skyclan you speak of?," Though the question seemed more like a demand through the tone of their voice.

Speech
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[Fantastream]

"SkyClan?" she echoes, her ears perking up at the mention as she turns to the patchwork she cat in the cage next to her own. "You all are from SkyClan?" Figpaw had mentioned briefly that cats had gone missing, but Fanta had never imagined that no-fur's would have been the ones taking them all. "My name is Fanta, I'm friend's with Figpaw" but then the red tabbies face flashes in her mind, the way she had looked when she had threatened to chase her away, told her she didn't want to see her anymore and her face falls for a moment "Or well I used ta be" she adds in a quiet voice. She forces the smile back onto her face though, she had to be reasonable, to stay calm. It was quite clear these cats were panicking.

The cat on her other side, in particular, looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Hey it's alright" she says, her voice soft, gentle "The no-furs ain’t here ta hurt us they're here ta take care of us" she hopes she is right, but she had heard stories of this place before, had met a cat in the garden next to hers that had said he had spent time here. They had fed him, gave him water and sheltered him until his housefolk had come to pick him up after he had gotten lost once.

// talking to @Daisyflight and @TWITCHBOLT I hope it's alright I assumed she's between the two of them!

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[Soma]

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WENT FACE TO FACE WITH ALL OUR FEARS
LEARNED OUR LESSONS THROUGH THE TEARS

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---

The shelter is seldom a quiet place.

There are certainly moment of reprieve between the outburst when things settle to a low, rumble drone in the background, but even at night when things should be silent and still the silence was short-lived, broken up by the distant barks of dogs in the kennels a few rooms over or the sniffling cries of some young kit who found themselves locked away behind bars.

Soma wasn't bothered by it, not anymore. His first few times here had seen him just as frought with nerves as any of the other cats packed into the cages around him, terrified that he'd be separated from his siblings and carried off to god knows where with the other cats who were chosen and taken away, but the novelty wore off after so many times. Eventually, Soma learned the routine, and with that knowledge had come a sense of comfortable confidence in what was to come. They'd find a home together, would stay there for a few weeks, and then they'd inevitably be brought back to sit in the metal boxes to wait for another.

No home ever stuck, and while the shelter was hardly the most entertaining place to be, it had proven safe and willing to provide, always offering a warm bed and food to eat. Not the life he'd like to lead forever, but it wasn't as if he knew how to get them out of the cycle they were in short of bailing to live on the streets. It was something they'd done once back after their parents had first left them, but Soma could remember how difficult it had been, scrounging off garbage to feed themselves and constantly having to hide from older, more aggressive cats. Soma was no coward, not by a long shot, but he'd only been a kid back then, alone with a younger sibling to keep alive.

He'd had nobody but himself to rely on.

So he kept them alive, like a good older brother should. He made sure to return to the shelter each time with Junco once their problems became too much for the humans to deal with, and he never complained.

"Manners, Junco." chided the green-eyed tom as he moved to sit next to his sibling, the words firm but not unkind, simply a reminder not to sound so demanding to a bunch of cats he didn't know.

He'd heard a lot of this 'Skyclan' talk over the last few days, and all he really knew was that a bunch of cats who seemed to know each other were all being brought in. Who they were, why they were here, or what 'Skyclan' was still remained a mystery to dark-furred cat.

OOC - Junco and Soma are a bonded pair of siblings who share a cage :)
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---

LONER - male - 10 months - bisexual - homoromantic - single - a large black and white tomcat with asymmetrical tuxedo markings and deep green eyes.

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[Chewsday]

Five steps.

Five steps from one end of the filthy hovel he's been in to the other. He hates it here. Hates the smell, the noise, the upwalkers. All of them are selfish beings—leaving out their companions like yesterday's trash. So damn high and mighty they were. He'd been stuck in here for however long it was. He didn't know. Time seemed to stop here. There was hardly any sun beside from the panes of glass higher up, only the fluorescent lights of the shelter that dimmed snd brightened, signaling that the upwalkers were back. Things had been the same here when he was a kit, once with two other siblings till he was the last to leave. He hardly knew them, hardly knew his mother. All he knew was the coming and going of upwalkers, the shiny dishes of dry pellets given to him, and the box where he relieved himself. Anyone that walked near him, opened this steel trap of a cage, were met with a menacing growl and a possible swipe of ivory claws.
But lately, a swarm of newcomers had filled up the line of cages alongside him. He hears their yowls of desperation, their screaming of one another and it's—strange. It wasn't often you saw groups of cats that knew one another, only in litters really. They all screamed, all howled in frustration and fear. The noise echoed sharply within his larger ears, reverberating within his helm and now giving him a headache. SkyClan. Blazestar. SkyClan. SkyClan. A white tipped tail flicks wildly, match white knuckles flexing against the smooth surface beneath him. His jaw clenches harshly before finally exploding into a round of caterwhauls. "Oi! Can you lot shut 'yer bloody milk suckers?! I can't bloody even hear myself think with you nits fucking whining!" His tone was sharp and thick, ivory teeth gnashing as he spoke. "Whoever this SkyClan is—ain't comin'. You bes' get right used to it." His tone sharpens at the word SkyClan, what was it that they were talking about? Was it a cat? An upwalker? Curiosity piqued at the blooming of a flower, he wanted to know more—but they had to stop their incessant yelling.

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[ FUCKING HELL ]​

 

[ivytongue [ia]]

"Shut up Chewsday, your upwalkers aren't coming either. Get used to it." Ivy snaps at the bicolour, ears twitching backwards. The elderly she-cat is curled up at the back of her cage, paws tucked comfortably beneath her as she listens to the bickering. The arrival of more Clan cats seems to have incensed the longer-term shelter residents, though not into a state of curiosity (with the exception of Junco, but zir curiosity as piqued as easily as the dogs started barking on the other side - that is, to say, over anything).

"How the hell'd you Clan cats even get in here? Thought you were meant to be a lot better at avoiding twolegs than this."​

 

[Howlfire]

Stars, the cats trapped in here with her were being noisy today! Howlpaw had closed her eyes, desperately trying to get some sleep when she was swiftly awoken by the chatter of the cats around her. As she was coming around she was certain she heard a voice that sounded like Snowpaw, only moments later to be followed by Quillstrike calling out to none other than Daisyflight and announcing that all their missing cats were in the shelter. "Daisyflight?" Howlpaw called, pressing a chocolate face to the bars of her cage in order to try and find a glimpse of the familiar warrior. "Is it really you?"

Around her more of the shelter cats were stirring now, asking after what SkyClan was and how they had gotten here in the first place. Another voice claimed to be a friend of Figpaw's too. ​

 

[SWORDPAW]

They only slid open one way – the skins hanging from their cool, soulless prisons. The no - furs had an obsession with the dead. For what reason? What purpose? It's too much for him to think about; not real, metaphysical gnawing on cartilage. He can't possibly. Couldn't possibly. They only watches the way flesh knuckles bend around the mossy sheets, different depending on where you came. His – no, he was the no-furs, and he, like that fabric skin would be shifted in ways he could never understand. Impossible to predict. Here, was different. Here, it was always westward. Always, always.

His lips are pink and trembling as the hall begins its whispering. He himself is mess of pale bone along the side of his own walls. Watching is all he's done since he's gotten here. Slicing through the frozen stare is a - rumbling upstairs that sends him scrabbling. Choked noise caught in his throat, there's a ktsch of scraping claws. So noisy. So noisy, upstairs. Wasn't that stupid? The ones who cried themselves were the nosiest. He couldn't handle it. " I– I'm not. I'm not, " he manages, convinced the stomping anger was a consequence of his own making. At least, that's what they'd tell him. But he knew better not to listen. His eyes dart around all the same. In search of the slithering.

And a bought of indignance overtakes him with the claim of an incoming rescue. Why would they come before his own no fur? He wouldn't know how to deal with that. Trembling vocals to not easily portray the boiling frustration. " No, mine, they'll... They're gonna... " He can't see anyone, and he's glad no one will see him. All those eyes – He couldn't deal with it. Their lips are still dry when they lick them. " No, it was... " He'd already been taken care of. Taken care of, wasn't that right? His throat bobs at the thought, but this was wrong, so much more wrong than it had been... More audible than his words even is the dizzied scrabbling against the floors.​

 

[shrewflight.]

So many weird names. Skyclan. Starclan. Cats that were named weird, like a snowpaw a daisy flight and many more he couldn't keep track of. Daisies don't even fly? he thought, trying to piece together what was happening, he tucked his ears backs and began instead focusing on his breathing.

His dad taught him boys don't cry. So he couldn't cry despite the gut feeling of being overwhelmed by the loud noises.

His paws held over his ears, focusing on breathing. In and out. Drown out the noises and into his own mind. Back in his comfy cat bed he had, snuggled against one of the babies toys to just have the two legs scent so familiar again.

Soon, soon enough he'll be home again.

 

[butterflytuft]

The trip had been a blur, and she swears she blacked out for most of it as fear overtook her mind. She crouched in the corner of the cold stone den, her face buried in her mother's flank. She wishes she was a kit again, blanketed by warmth in the holly bush nursery in Daisyflight's nest. She wishes hard enough for it that she thinks she can even smell milk-scent again, but she's wrong, woken from her memory with jolt of the monster. A trembling whine leaves her as she curls into a tighter ball. They stop, and their den jostles as it's moved inside the concrete nest. When she opens her eyes, all she can see is a naked paw reaching for her before the calico at her side whirls on the twoleg with the ferocity of a lion. But then she's grabbed, taken away and Butterflytuft can only wail after her, "Mom!"

It doesn't take long for the twoleg to come back for her and her brother, who crouches in the den beside her. Frozen with fear, she remains stiff and silent as she is plucked and placed into her mother's container. Perhaps the twoleg could tell she'd be more comfortable with the other she-cat. Regardless, she rushes to her and very nearly tries to clamber beneath her belly as if she really were a kitten again. How foolish she looks, but she doesn't care. The warrior just wants to hide.

It's then that the stench of cat overwhelms her, and her forepaws quickly fasten themselves over her eyes once more. Voices rise from all around them, strangers wondering who they are, where they came from, before one familiar voice pipes up. Cautiously, her paws are removed from her face and she blinks out into the darkness. "Quillstrike?" Her friend, is he here? More voices, and the tortoiseshell swears she could cry with relief. She sits up, creeping closer to the edge although her stomach still brushes the ground. "Howlpaw? Twitchbolt? You're all here? You're okay?" She thought she's never see them again!​

 

[Daisyflight]

"SUREFIRE, YEAH, THE SETTING SUN WANTS COMPANY"​

The clamour that rose up after her words rang through the metal gully like perverse birdsong. It stung her ears, feathering the fringes of her awareness. There were unfamiliar voices, reckless chants that threatened attention and- Daisyflight blinked in shock. Skyclan cats! ‘More of you,’ one cat snips and despite their derisive tone it coaxes the hope higher.

Eyes stiff to the box her son was in were blown wide as Quillstrike’s words reached her. They were all there, each of their stolen clanmates. A desperate ache bore down her- together they had a chance. Daisyflight pressed close to Butterflytuft, now beside her, in a jolt of joy. Snowy cheek atop the tortie’s brow, she carved out a response amid the din. "You’re here! Yes- Twitchbolt it’s us."

The uproar continued, the bite of ‘out, out, out!’ an oppressive under-beat. Each call of quiet tempted the volume higher until she could take it no longer. Dovetailing another inmate’s soft reprimand, the warrior tried to quell the cat’s cries. "They’re right, we can’t discuss if there’s no air to do it in!” Another voice, accented, mirrored the sentiment.

"Skyclan is our colony, and they will-” A ragged ear tip swooped to a right angle at the mention of Figpaw. This loner- kittypet? Knew of her daughter? Daisyflight's tail lashed visibly behind the bars. "Figpaw is one of mine, my kit. Friends…?” Too many spools of conversation had overlapped, and in a rare moment of speechlessness, Daisyflight could only sigh.

Twitchbolt was close, Snowpaw in sight, Butterflytuft beside her, Howlpaw alive, Quillstrike… She tallied each name and strove to steady her breath. So many more too, trapped like them. In the past, the Shelter had been a place of no return. Some spoke of a second life, soft and easy, after time done but she had never seen the faces of those lost before. The kittypets in here, crying for their twolegs… Daisyflight pitied them.

"We will get out, Thistleback promised to come after us and Blazestar wouldn’t leave us here.” Twin dilute shadows bled into view behind her eyes, daybreak and ink-scratch. "If we are ready we can make the job all the easier for them.” The faith it took to thread confidence through her words made her woozy.

And then, the thought of their leader still in her mind, Daisyflight angled to where she thought Howlpaw might be. "Your father is going to be so relieved.” A weak smile touched her maw, unseen. "I doubt he’ll let you out of his sight after this. He thought you were gone.” Phantom grief, at the notion of her own kits thought dead, coated her speech with melancholy. They had to get out, if only to prevent Blazestar from experiencing it yet again.​

✿ ✿ ✿​