Now it was the small tom's turn. In the ranks, he was fairly bright, a newer spirit, but all the same, not as new as the lives lost in the liberation battles. In life the black and white feline was taken in his early moons by an unknown illness. As much as his mother and father wanted him to live, no matter how many herbs were used, the young tom never got better. It seemed to be a delayed death. Even so, the young feline never went a day without a smile and never went a day without giving something to someone else or helping someone else. He was a good spirit taken too early from the world. With small strides, he padded up to Russetswirl after Aconiteheart joined back with the ranks. His black and white patched pelt was sparkling with the stars, his yellow hues bright with honor and joy.
"Hello Russetswirl, my name's Patchkit! I used to live in Windclan," he meowed cheerily, gazing up at the older tom. Although that cheeriness changed to something a bit more serious once he knew the words he was to use. "With this life, I give you generosity," while he was speaking, Patchkit rose up onto his hind legs to reach the older tom's head. "Use it to care for not only your clan mates, but the other clans and cats around you too; to give as much or help as much as you can and not to expect much in return," he tapped his nose to Russetswirl's forehead and once the life was given, he got back down on all four and took a last look at the tom. "Be wise when using it," he cautioned before turning and joining the Starclan ranks once more.