Deadpaw limped back to camp from hunting, blood on his paws, and nothing in his jaws. Not his prey's blood however, what a shame. This blood belonged to Wrenkit, and it was a long story. Don't you fret or worry, Deadpaw isn't to blame. . . Wrenkit had no clue this was her last day in the world, she didn't know she would die. She leaped out of the nursery and snook off, Mama wouldn't care anyway. . . Wrenkit would show Mama she was good as Rockkit! Wrenkit would catch a mouse! She was as good as a tom. . . Wrenkit found herself in a sunny clearing near a stream, this was a good place to hunt. But when she scented a mouse, there was something else. And it scented her. Wren saw the fox but she was dead meat, the fox wanted something to eat. In one violent swipe, the kitten dropped dead, she fell into the rushing waterbed. The fox hissed and chased her but Deadpaw was faster he slapped a paw down and caught Wren's body like a fish. Deadpaw couldn't hold on! Invisible blood on his paws. He couldn't save her, it was too late. "May Wren rest peacefully in the waters!" he yowled. The fox turned and growled. Deadpaw would be dead too! But despite his limp, he ran faster than ever, and the fox couldn't follow him home. There was a burning in his eyes. Was Deadpaw about to cry? He shook it off. Wrenkit is lost. Deadfoot still remembers that one fateful day. When he found a body in the stream, and the body was washed away.
