As moonlight flickers into ShadowClan's camp, darkness calls the marsh-dwellers to their nests.
It's a regular night for ShadowClan. Warriors return to their nests after a hard day's work. Apprentices file into their own den after parting ways with their mentors. Queens gather their kits back into the nursery after a day of play. All is normal - a routine repeated with every night that passes.
As the nightly march to their nests proceeds, a tom-kit finds himself fast asleep in the nursery, curled into the warmth that comes from mossy nests. A perfectly normal scene.
That is, if the kit belonged to ShadowClan's ranks.
With an inky coat of fur, spider-like limbs, and batty ears, the peculiar kit appears nothing like ShadowClan's youngest. Faces that the clan had gotten used to, known by name. Faces, the young tom didn't fit in with - an unrecognizable face, nestled into the nursery as if he'd been there all his life. He sleeps where they sleep, curled beside other kits, despite his presence within thorny confines being non-existent, mere hours before.
It's a regular night for ShadowClan. Warriors return to their nests after a hard day's work. Apprentices file into their own den after parting ways with their mentors. Queens gather their kits back into the nursery after a day of play. All is normal - a routine repeated with every night that passes.
As the nightly march to their nests proceeds, a tom-kit finds himself fast asleep in the nursery, curled into the warmth that comes from mossy nests. A perfectly normal scene.
That is, if the kit belonged to ShadowClan's ranks.
With an inky coat of fur, spider-like limbs, and batty ears, the peculiar kit appears nothing like ShadowClan's youngest. Faces that the clan had gotten used to, known by name. Faces, the young tom didn't fit in with - an unrecognizable face, nestled into the nursery as if he'd been there all his life. He sleeps where they sleep, curled beside other kits, despite his presence within thorny confines being non-existent, mere hours before.
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