//Un//marked

// chapter 5 //

"Coming along for some training today?"

Dewkit blinked up at Jaystrike, surprised by the invitation, but one look at the scowl on Cinderblossom's face told him there would not be any training until he became a proper trainee.

"No," he sighed, kneading the ground with his paws. He had already managed to create two sizeable indents in the time between dawn and sunhigh.

Jaystrike shrugged, continuing out of the camp with Crowpaw and Webpaw in tow. The black trainee looked apologetic, while Webpaw cast the two of them curious glances. Dewkit wasn't angry with Crowpaw; after all, it hadn't been his fault that he had chosen the place where Nightchaser, Cinderblossom, and Sprucetail – the third unnamed cat – held their conversation.

When Crisp and Oats came running up to him, cream tails pin straight with excitement, Dewkit did not have the heart to tell them that he had been confined to the nursery by his mother. They begged him to come with them but all he told them was that he was tired.

Even Quartz stopped by to ask if he would be joining them. Cinderblossom's scowl only deepened and the head mentor left quickly.

"When will I be a trainee?" Dewkit sighed quietly. He had not intended for the grey queen to hear, but she answered all the same.

"If you want some trainee work to do then I'm sure Mothpelt and Lily wouldn't mind having you in the healer's den," she said sharply. "Step one foot out of camp before you become a full trainee and you won't be leaving the nursery at all."

Dewkit narrowed his hazel eyes but didn't argue. Having free reign of camp was much better than being confined to this stupid box.

Grudgingly, he began to pad across the clearing, from one corner of the camp to the other. The providers, trainees, and mentors were out for the day leaving only the queens, healers, and some of the higher-ups behind. He could see Roxanne and Condor sitting guard at the end of the alley in case of intruders, and Bronco's voice echoing quietly as he spoke with Sprucetail. Birchfrost sat on her own, back against red brick and white stomach exposed to what little sun was left.

What to do? He could go to Mothpelt and Lily in the healer's den, as Cinderblossom had suggested. Or he could go bother Bronco to teach him some fighting moves – but, on second thought, staying clear of Sprucetail might be a better idea. Birchfrost would let him hang around; he liked her because she had a limp, just like him.

Before he could make up his mind, Dewkit felt the tiniest of pinpricks on his forehead. It felt soft and wet and slightly cold. Gazing upwards, he saw the grey sky and, out of that sky, little flakes of white. There were not many at first but their numbers grew the more he stared.

What is this? he wondered. Every time one touched his fur he felt that same prick of wetness and cold. It wasn't unpleasant, just unusual. He tilted his head up and opened his jaws, trying to catch the drifting flakes. They were cool and refreshing.

He noticed one of the flakes had settled on the ground near his paws and he jumped back from it. It continued to lay there, shimmering. When he reached out to paw at it it disappeared.

"Snow." Dewkit whipped around to see Birchfrost watching him with her mismatched eyes – one blue and one gold.

"Snow," he repeated in awe. There was more of it now, larger flakes drifting down in the same lazy fashion.

"Leaf-bare has come." The grey and white she-cat rose to her paws, stretching. Her fur parted to reveal a pink scar that ran from her shoulder to her flank, curving over her side and belly.

"But the trees still have their leaves," Dewkit pointed out, tearing his eyes away from the scar. "Some are still green." Cinderblossom always told him that the trees changed colour before losing their leaves, and that was how they knew leaf-bare was coming.