The day after the storm dawned bright and cool. The scent of rain lingered in the air, bringing with it a chill that accompanied even the warmest ray of sunlight. Dewkit fluffed up his fur, unsure how he felt about the weather. He liked it much better than last night's storm, that was for certain.

    Crowpaw padded just ahead of him, head and tail low. The older trainees seemed to be avoiding him, as if he were a walking token of bad luck. They kept their distance, casting side-long glances at the black tom and trading whispered comments. Webpaw walked somewhere in between, part of the trainee group but not leaving her littermate behind.

    Dewkit sighed. If only he could be part of that group. Or, better yet, running up ahead with Robin, Crisp, and Oats. His paws ached from the trek but the surroundings were enough to excite him and fuelled his paws with curiosity.

    Beside him, Cinderblossom kept a watchful eye. He had no hope of escaping from under her wing. He resolved to keep his gaze focussed ahead of him, on Beaver's swinging tail.

    But the world around him was unlike anything he'd ever seen. His paws ached to run and explore, to travel far away from the acrid scent of the Thunderpath they followed and find those gardens Leo liked to talk about, or a raccoon sifting through a Twoleg dump, or a grove of bare trees where he could tumble through a blanket of leaves.

    Lost in thought, Dewkit felt his nose hit fur.

    "Ouch," Beaver said, pulling his tail out from underneath the kit's paws. "Careful. We can't have two clumsy cats in this group." He twitched his whiskers as Dewkit.

    "Sorry," the grey tom replied, looking sheepish. A soft whisk across the head told him he was forgiven.

    "Why are we stopped?" Roxanne called from the back of the group. Before leaving the destroyed camp, Bronco had decided to split the stronger cats between the front and back of the group, keeping trainees, queens, kits, and healers in the middle. Bronco, Nightchaser, Sprucetail, Leo, Indigo, Quartz, and Beaver took up the front; Roxanne, Condor, Mira, Fiero, Birchfrost, Bramblefire and Jaystrike brought up the rear.

    "We need to cross this Thunderpath," Sprucetail called back. A shiver ran through the entire group. Dewkit's excitement only grew.

    Indigo and Quartz sprang across first, followed by Leo and Sprucetail. They settled near the edge of the Thunderpath, like they were ready to spring.

    A monster rattled past, filling the air with a putrid stench. Dewkit wrinkled his nose, coughing. Cinderblossom glanced at him, worry clouding her hazel gaze.

    Olive, Hazel, and Soren made a run for it, followed closely behind by Beaver, Finch, and Webpaw. Dewkit shifted closer and closer to the Thunderpath.

    Another monster, then one more. He heard them coming, their rough breath stirring the air long before they came into view. He felt them coming too, the pebbles near his paws jumping like grasshoppers.

    Bronco and Nightchaser stood on either side of the group, keeping watch. At a nod from Bronco, Lily and Mothpelt pelted across, mouths filled with the herbs they managed to salvage from their cardboard storage.

    It was his turn. Dewkit crouched, ready to spring forward.

    "I'll take him across." Before Dewkit could protest, a strong mouth grasped his scruff and lifted his paws from the ground. Then, the ground beneath him became a blur and he was suddenly on the other side.

    The kit glanced up to see Condor regarding him with his single eye. "Thank you," he mumbled, but only because Cinderblossom was eyeing him reproachfully.

    The only other cat who required help getting across was Birchfrost. Flanked by Bramblefire and Jaystrike, she limped across. No monsters came to get her.

    Finally, everyone stood on the other side.

    "We'll need to take the fences," Bronco announced, looking up at the brown walls around them. To Dewkit, they looked as tall as trees.

    "How much further?" Nightchaser asked.

    The dark tabby weighed his answer. "We'll be there by dark." It was sunhigh.

    Nightchaser's answer was clipped. "Will this camp last longer than the last?"

    Bronco's amber eyes darkened and Dewkit shrank back. He hadn't ever seen the tom look like that.

    "Our alley camp is a temporary one," he explained. "Storms like last night's are rare; the last was season cycles ago."

    "So this has happened before?" Nightchaser's voice rose and Dewkit felt himself grow even smaller as he watched the exchange.

    Indigo stepped forward, sapphire eyes strangely bright against her dark fur. "We've rebuilt it before. We'll rebuild it again."

    "You're leading us further and further from the edge of the Twolegplace," Nightchaser hissed.

    "Yes, and for good reason," Bronco growled back, though he kept his fur flat.

    Dewkit's eyes felt wide as an owl's. Why was the edge of the Twolegplace so important?

    Sprucetail stepped forward, taking a stance between the two toms. "I trust this new camp will keep us safe through leaf-bare and will let us continue our training?"

    Bronco nodded. "More so than the previous one."

    The dark she-cat nodded her thanks to the alley cat leader and turned to Nightchaser. She held his gaze, green against gold, until the tom finally gave a small nod of his own.

    "We need to keep moving," Condor growled. "We don't want to be caught out on the Thunderpaths after dark."

    Dewkit remained firmly rooted to the spot, still trying to process what had just happened. A slight push from Cinderblossom reminded him that they were moving again.

    "After we get up on the fences, I'll let you go with the trainees," she said quietly. Her shoulders were tensed and her eyes clouded.

    "Really?!" he squeaked, fear temporarily forgotten.

    She nodded. "I'll ask Webpaw to watch you."

    Webpaw, as far as Dewkit knew, was very easily distracted. The rest of this journey would be much more enjoyable.

    //

    Balancing atop the maze of fences took more concentration than Dewkit had anticipated. In front of him, Webpaw's striped tail bobbed up and down. She glanced back every so often, probably making sure he was still there. Cinderblossom would undoubtedly claw her ears if anything happened while Dewkit was under her watch.

    "We should do some fence hopping!" Soren's voice rose into the air up ahead.

    "I don't think that's a very good idea," Leo countered. "You'll get lost."

    "Oh, come on," Soren whined. "You used to fence hop with us all the time when you were still a trainee!"

    Dewkit saw Leo puff out his ginger chest. "I'm a provider now."

    Olive, following Dewkit closely, let out a purr of amusement. In front of him, Webpaw scoffed derisively.

    "Leo, the great provider!" she jibed. "He's too good for us lowly trainees."

    The ginger tom stopped suddenly and Dewkit nearly ran into Webpaw. A steadying paw from Olive kept him from falling from the fence.

    "Maybe I'm just too good for you Clan cats," he hissed.

    It happened so quickly Dewkit could not have recounted the events. Webpaw's smug expression and three short slashes across Leo's nose were enough to tell the tale.

    "Say that again and I'll claw it completely off," the she-cat said, flicking her tail across the tom's nose. Then, with a neat weave and a skip in her step, she stepped around Leo and continued on her way. He remained where he was, stunned.

    Olive prodded Dewkit gently, urging him forward.

    Clan cats? he wondered as he continued on his way, limp back leg dragging along the top of the fence. Could this possibly have something to do with what he had overheard Nightchaser, Cinderblossom, and Sprucetail speaking about?

    He didn't dare ask about it with Leo in front of him, a hard set to his shoulders.

    Ahead of them, Webpaw had taken up Soren on his game of fence hopping and they, along with Finch, Hazel, and Robin were now leaping through the air at every intersection of the maze. Dewkit glanced back at Olive and, sure enough, a reproachful look covered her features. Sometimes, she reminded him very much of his mother.

    "You don't want to play?" he asked her.

    Olive looked taken aback. "Why would I?" she said with a cock of her spotted head.

    Dewkit shrugged. "It looks like fun. I wish I could play." He glanced at his back leg but continued to move himself forward. Olive had the good grace to look apologetic.

    "I wish I had fences to play on when I was a trainee." The new voice belonged to Bramblefire, who padded up to them at an intersection. The tom was smaller than Bronco, but still growing in size. The stripes of his brown tabby fur disguised his muscles but Dewkit knew from experience that they were there; he had tried wrestling the older tom once.

    Olive didn't answer. The air suddenly held a tension Dewkit couldn't quite place. He glanced between the two cats and noticed how much more at ease Bramblefire seemed. In fact, Olive looked like she were preparing to defend herself.

    "How come?" Dewkit piped up, hoping to alleviate the pressure.

    The question had the opposite result. "Growing up here just seems a lot more peaceful," Bramblefire grumbled, uneasiness in his stance.

    "It was peaceful," Olive replied, scowling.

    The tom looked taken aback.

    "Lovers' spat?" Beaver purred, approaching the small group from a different direction. "Better resolve it quickly, otherwise you'll fall behind. Come on, get a move on."

    The tom winked at Dewkit as he padded past, as if the two of them were in on some sort of joke. If they were, the kit didn't understand it.

    Olive took off quickly, Bramblefire following more slowly. Dewkit suddenly found himself on his own, trying to keep up with the much faster cats. The air, much colder now, swirled around him and pulled at his fur. He felt himself tip dangerously to one side and dug his claws deep into the dark wood beneath him.

    Up ahead, he could see the trainees still playing at hopping fences. Even further up, the stronger cats continued steadily on. Glancing back, Dewkit saw nothing but empty fences.

    Taking a deep breath and swallowing the tell-tale chill creeping into his throat, Dewkit pushed himself forward at a faster pace. He had to keep up with everyone; if he didn't, how could he possibly contribute to their group?

    To his dismay, the fence tops grew more narrow as he moved and, once or twice, he happened upon a stretch of fence that felt no more solid than a puddle of water. He felt the wood creak under his weight, the slats leaning to one side and throwing off his already altered sense of balance. Taking a deep breath, Dewkit forced himself across.

    The figures in the distance grew no bigger but, if optimism were to help him at all, they did not get smaller either. As long as he could see them, he would still be travelling in the right direction.

    But, as the sun slowly dipped lower and finally disappeared behind the tallest Twoleg dens, Dewkit found it progressively harder to spot the others. The only light in the world now streamed from holes in the dens all around, harsh and unnatural.

    "Wait!" he finally cried, swallowing his pride. How had they not noticed he was gone? Were they really so focussed on Clan cats, and fence hopping, and peace that a missing kit wasn't an issue?

    He blinked and lost sight of the silhouettes. Cold fear filled him and he pushed himself harder, willing his paws to move faster, cursing his crippled leg. Was that why they were leaving him behind?

    Cinderblossom wouldn't leave you, he thought, but the sentiment didn't make him feel much better. He was still very much alone, atop a maze of fences on a journey to who knew where.

    The fence tops grew wider once more and some of his panic subsided. Was that someone up there turning back to get him? He squinted, but the darkness grew heavier and made it impossible to tell.

    Distracted, he didn't notice the rotting wood until it was too late.

    With a loud thud, he hit a surprisingly soft bed of leaves.

    "Help!" he yowled, gazing up at the impossibly tall fence. How would they ever find him now?

    The sound of a snapping twig made him wheel around clumsily, hazel eyes scanning the dark garden he had fallen into. The Twoleg den was very far away, the light coming from its openings not even close to reaching him. His breath came quickly, sides moving in and out at an alarming rate.

    He stopped halfway through his inhale, nearly choking on the air. A cry escaped him as he registered the shape in front of him, big and bulky, and the bead-black eyes staring down at him.

    The gleaming fangs moved closer.

// Oh no, Dewkit, what have you gotten yourself into?! D: As a side note, writing from Dewkit's perspective is tough because he doesn't know anything even though we do. I hope I'm doing alright with his confusion.