Leafbare was just as horrible as Charlotte remembered. Bitter, biting cold. Prey nowhere. And now, kits inside her, demanding to be fed. She was hungry and tired always, they sapped her of strength and she awoke each day awaiting its end, praying for time to pass more quickly. Nori was out on a hunting trip when they came. The proccess was rapid, uncomfortable, she paced about and squatted and mewed and when it was over there were three scraps of fur suckling what milk her starving, weary body was able to produce. She cared for them, awaiting Nori's return, awaking every few hours to the feel of their tiny paws kneading her belly. Until only one of the kittens woke her up. As he nursed happily, his sisters slept on, seemingly uninterested in her milk. Tired and starving, Charlotte ignored it, until it happened at the next feeding, too. Panicked, she began to groom the two. One began to whine, while the other simply didn't respond, barely moving as she groomed her. She heard Nori's voice and looked up at him. Anger surged through her, sharper than the grief.

"Where've you been?" she cried, her gaze falling rapidly to the two mice. That's all she had? Oh, her poor kittens. She pushed to her paws, swaying a bit as she stepped forward to eat. "They're born. And they're sick!" She knew she was being unfair, but she didn't have the patience for kindness. "Oh, Nori, I don't know what to do. They won't feed! All they do is sleep!" She reached the mice and began to gobble them up, despair overcoming her as their scrawny bodies barely sated her hunger. "They'll starve, and die. They're sick, they're sick, I don't know how to help them." She turned back towards the kits, rasping her tongue over their pelts. She knew herbs, but she didn't know what the kits were even sick with. Were they hungry? Did they need more milk? How could she make it come?

At the sound of Nori's panic, Charlotte's anger withered. He didn't know what to do, either. She was the only one who could help her children now. The snows had fallen thick, but she might be able to find something that could help them. Borage. Her mother had taken borage to help with her milk, she remembered it from one of her lessons. Star flowers that certainly would be gone by now, but maybe she could find some leaves. With the herb, and some more prey, maybe she'd be able to produce enough milk to feed all of her kittens. That's why they weren't drinking, there just wasn't enough milk. She tore herself away from the kittens, glancing to the den's entrance. "I think I know of a herb," she said, grief woven into her voice. "I'll have to leave to fetch it. If I find it, and more milk comes, then maybe they have a chance." She pressed against Nori's side, seeking comfort and warmth. "Will you keep them warm and clean?" she asked, knowing he wouldn't say no. "Hazel has the orange ear, and Iris has an orange tail tip. And Jay, he's the little tabby. I'm so sorry, my love. I named them without you." She let out a sigh, forcing herself to step away. Everything hurt. "We'll figure it out. Just look after them." And with that, she disappeared into the woods.

Charlotte ran across the snow in long strides. She didn't know where she was going, she simply headed away from their den. The last place she'd seen anything green was in the pine forest. The place where thick cat scent wafted from. She'd made care to avoid it before, but now, she didn't care. She'd fight, beg, steal, anything to save her children. She altered her course towards it, passing their scent marks and slowing as she ran out of breath. Giving birth had taken a toll on her, and she hoped she didn't run across anything hungry or angry. She walked through the pines, glancing about hopelessly. Despair took over. The woods were bare and desolate, a land of black trees and white snow. She'd be hard pressed to find prey, let alone borage. Her paws shook from fear and exhaustion, and her gaze fell to the ground, her body slumping in defeat. She ought to just return to her kits, offer them what comfort she could before they passed. Just as she was about to turn around, her gaze caught ahold of something green. Covered in ice, but green. Just a few leaves were left, clinging to the brown, dry stalk. Cautiously, Charlotte sniffed, and the familiar tang of borage hit the roof of her mouth. Relief crashed down within her, joy she hadn't known in days rising as she loped forward with the last of her strength. Oh, her mother was surely watching, her kits would be alright! But just before she reached the herb, two cats stepped out of the trees. Charlotte halted, looking up at them warily, trying to look as threatening as she could. "Hello there," she called in a tone devoid of emotion. "I'm not looking for a fight." She took a step forward, wondering if she ought to grab the herb and bolt, or simply tell them she needed it. Would they show mercy? "I'm just here for the borage, and I'll leave. You'll never see me again." She took another step, looking fiercely at the strangers.

Dartwing was searching for borage at the edge of their territory, closest to WillowClan. They ran out almost completely, and he was desperately hoping that he’d find some plants that were buried, perhaps frozen, under the snow. It was a long shot, but he had to try.

Arcticpool was with him, and he was thankful for it. Two sets of eyes were better than one. He was peering at every tree root and vine, pleading silently for some small shoot of green. He was lucky in that his eyes spotted a small, dark plant under a chunk of clear ice. There were no flowers, but he knew it immediately as borage. He approached the ice, about to try and break it open, when a strange voice interrupted them.

It was an unfamiliar she-cat. A young outsider, from the looks of it. He looked between her and the herb uncomfortably, heart aching. Normally he would sacrifice a few leaves in such a situation, but his clan needed it. He had to do what was in RavenClan’s best interest.

And that meant denying the young cat what she needed.

His paw touched the ice as Arcticpool stepped forward, and he frowned. “I really do apologize... but our clan needs this. It’s on our territory.” As if that was enough of an explanation, Dartwing wrapped his other paw around the piece of ice and began to tug on it. It broke away, revealing the frozen plant underneath. He plucked it from the ground, ensuring that the roots remained under the icy earth. It would grow again when the season changed.

Arcticpool had moved, sweeping in front of Dartwing when the she-cat moved, putting herself between the unknown cat and her medicine cat. Her heart squeezed at the she-cats words, she couldn't imagine the pain but they had kits at camp they had to look after. "I'm sorry, we have kits of our own to look after" she mewed, her mind skipping to her own sisters. Though they were past the stage for milk they had younger kits who still relied on milk and needed the borage.

They seemed mournful, and maybe if Charlotte was calmer, she would've been able to recognize that. But the panic consumed her, freezing over reason like frost upon a stream. She unsheathed her claws and stared forward at the white she-cat blocking her from the herbs, a pleading look in her eyes. "I'll do anything," she gasped hoarsely, aware her chances of getting the herb were as slim as a claw scratch, but she had to try. Her legs began to shake underneath her. She was tired, so tired. "Please."

But they walked away.

Maybe Charlotte would've fought, if she'd had the strength. Instead she just stood there, shivering and shaking in the cold, numb to the core. She didn't know when she brought herself to turn around, how she forced herself to follow her pawsteps back across the snow. Hunger gnawed at her belly, flaring up as she caught a whiff of mouse near the base of a tree. Charlotte dug through the snow until her pads were numb, uncovering a swath of pink, mewling little mouse babies. Half-formed, with dark spots for eyes and skin stretched thin over their tiny bodies. Disgusting. She scooped a pawful up and threw them upon the snow. They squealed, and from somewhere deep in the burrow, the mother appeared - shrieking up a storm. Charlotte paid her no mind, and ate the babies one by one. She lifted the stragglers out by her teeth, and licked their blood off her muzzle. When she returned for the last, she saw the mother dragging it back into the burrow by the scruff. In a single swipe of her paw, she pinned them both. She picked up the baby in her teeth and swallowed it just as she did the others, and then dispatched the mother. She carried the mouse in her jaws and with newfound strength, hurried back towards the den.

It was snowing and dark by the time she returned. She slipped into the den and dropped the mother mouse immediately, rushing past Nori to the kittens. She nosed them rapidly, licking each of their pelts. Jay mewled loudly, and Iris stirred beneath her tongue, but Hazel did not respond. Charlotte began to lick her desperately, and with growing horror realized she wasn't breathing. She rounded on Nori, voice thin and brittle. "Is she...?"

Charlotte wilted, looking down at the still kit with no emotion stirring in her chest. The horror from earlier had been replaced by absolute numbness. She looked up at Nori.

"I found the herb I needed. But some other cats stole it," she breathed wearily. "I've eaten, though. There's some food for you by the entrance. We need to...we need to feed the other kittens. The last two." Little Jay and Iris. Charlotte picked up Hazel by the scruff and settled down into her nest. She began to lick the kit's limp body, smoothing her fur over. Jay wiggled over to her belly and began to knead for milk, and with a nudge Iris wormed in the same direction. They would bury Hazel, but she'd have to look perfect. Absolutely perfect. Jay latched and began to drink, but Iris simply lay listlessly by Charlotte's belly. Charlotte looked up at Nori again. "I...I don't know what to do," she confessed, her voice finally breaking as the reality of the situation set in. "I don't know what to do." Her daughter was dead, and for what? And another soon to follow.