Those of you who are last will soon be first

The white tom was rarely seen in the nursery. He didn’t bring prey, that was a task for apprentices. He did not visit queens, since they didn’t quite like him in the first place. Neither did he like them. And don’t even get him started on kits. The little critters were usually just plain annoying. They liked playing with his tail. A very fun game most certainly, but not for Frostfall who would lose hairs in the process. But since it was raining and the nursery was closest, it was just a matter of efficiency. The tom had dropped his prey by the entrance, after which he started cleaning the raindrops out of his long fur. The rain sounded quite pleasant on the nursery roof. The sweet smell of milk and wildflowers hovered in the air and made him dream about days long, long ago. Lost in thought and the rhythmic strokes on his fur made him drowsy and inattentive of his surroundings. He didn’t notice the sound of tiny footsteps.

+Molekit

Molekit was almost ready to become an apprentice, while she still doubted she could be one herself, almost everyone else seemed to think she could do it. Yet, that still meant that she had to leave the familiarity of the Nursery behind. The warmth and the smell of milk, the sounds of the playing kittens and the soft snores of some when they slept. She almost knew everyone by now and it felt safe, so when an unfamiliar white tom suddenly ducked into the nursery dropping a piece of prey beside him, her curiosity was sparked. It was only weird because he wasn't an apprentice. No, he was a big, older cat with a long white fur and Molekit decided that he must've been a warrior. A little unsure of herself she approached the tom. "Uhm, hello sir," she greeted him with a small smile.

Frostfall was awakened from his thoughts when he heard a tiny voice speak to him. He looked up startled, but then softened his look when he saw a mottled kit speak to him. He was never good with the small folks, but this kit seemed almost big enough to be an apprentice. So he figured he could talk with the young she-cat. ‘Hello, Molekit, isn't it?’ he asked politely. Frostfall could be a grumpy tom, but he was mannered, even to the youngest kit in the clan. He just couldn't stand the smart-ass youth, who thought they knew better, even though they barely lost their kitten fur. But this youngster seemed brave enough to approach him. ‘What's the matter, girl?’ he asked then. Because there must've been a reason she approached him.