"Wake up! Come on, mouse-brain!" I nose my mother. She feels really cold, and has a large gash down her side. After fighting the foxes she insisted she was fine. It had been snowing overnight; maybe she went for a walk and her fur went cold. I know my fur, still the soft fur of a kit, is freezing. I don't know why all my Clanmates are standing around her with looks of sorrow on their faces. Surely my mother being injured wouldn't leave the Clan so sad. It's too cold out here for them, anyway. "What are you doing?" I ask them. "She's just got a gash. Get the medicine cat to look at it!" Another queen bows her head. "She's not waking up again," she murmurs softly, sadness in her eyes. "Why?" I ask. "Is she very tired?" The queen licks me over the ear. "She's dead, little one. StarClan is whe