Whiskers fanned, Pouncebloom nosed the little ball of fur where it hunkered beneath the bushes. It was still warm; their heart unclenched as the white kitten stirred. Still alive.
Pouncebloom didn't have much experience with kits, but this one was almost certainly too tiny to be on her own. The scent of an unfamiliar queen clung to the nearby foliage, but it was faint and fading. This was no nest. Unexpectedly or deliberately, this kit had been left behind.
Either way, the code was clear. They had a duty. "Come on, then," Pouncebloom said, ducking to scoop the kitten by the scruff.