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Post by >>[S]ilver on Oct 11, 2006 16:40:45 GMT -5
Lionheart, the noble deputy of ThunderClan; killed in a battle with ShadowClan. He fought bravely to save his clan, but no cat could save him from the deathblow of another warrior. What his clan did not know, was his past. When he was a young warrior, and broke the warrior code, to meet the young WindClan she-cat he loved. Her name was Dovepaw, and she was going to tell him that she was to bear his kits before her own warrior ceremony, when she found out he was dead. So, one moon before she became a warrior, she ran from her clan, ashamed of what was going to happen. This is the tale of her life, and the life of her kits.
A young she cat was running through the rough terrain of the WindClan hunting grounds, her belly swollen with the kits that she was to bear before a moon had passed.
Lionheart, the ThunderClan deputy had just died. He was more than the ThunderClan deputy, but Dovepaw’s mate. She was running from her home, from all the cats that had comforted her when her mother, Silvereye died, and when she had lost her brother, Windkit, when they were kits themselves. She was running from the loss that had occoured in her life, Lionheart, and the only thing that mattered anymore to her, was dead. Why me? She let out a wordless cry out to her dead ancestors, which now resided in StarClan. Why me? She cried one last time to the heavens.
She decided that she would go to Highstones one last time to share dreams with StarClan. She turned, only have taken this route once, and she hoped that she would remember the way to the sacred place. Soon enough, she saw the towering rocks, and headed right to Mothermouth. She slowly started to walk, and walked through the winding tunnel, fallowing the stale scents of the leaders of other clans, and the medicine cats. She soon came into an opening in the tunnel, and saw the most wonderful thing ever. It was like a stone made of the night sky, and all the stars of Silverpelt. She remembered seeing her leader, and deputy, pressing their noses to the stone.
She did the same, and when her nose touched the stone, she suddenly felt cold and comforted all at the same time. Like she knew what to do instinctively, she closed her eyes, and waited for sleep to come.
When she opened her eyes, she became afraid that all she had done: the running away, and having Lionheart’s kits, was just a dream. She was in the WindClan nursery, with kits at her belly, laying in a small ray of sun to warm herself on a cold Newleaf day. But then the ground started to move, and she was lying in a large patch of grass, sheltered by a bramble bush. Then she saw cats. All around her, there were cats; they were all in a bright silvery light, like all the moonshine in the forest was directed to them. Dovepaw crouched down low, she was scared, but then she remembered that this was a dream, and these were the cats of StarClan. “What do I do?” then she saw a small white kit walk up to her. “Windkit…” she breathed. This was her lost brother, Windkit, who died of green cough when the two were young kits. He looked up at her with a maturity way beyond his years. She felt so out of place, with him so much smaller than herself. Then came her mother, Silvereye. “Why did you have to die? Why you?” her lost mother looked at her with pride in her eyes, so proud of her only remaining kit, but their was something like understanding in her eyes, too. Then came another cat, one she did not know. “Who are you?” she asked. Only after studying her with the same look that her mother had had in her eyes, did he respond.
“I am your father, Dovepaw. I am Whitesky of RiverClan. I died after you and your brother were born.” Dovepaw looked at him, and saw that she even looked like him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, mother?” she asked. Her mother looked away, and whispered, “ I wanted to, I really did. But I never got the chance. I’m so sorry.” She let her words trail off, and left Dovepaw speechless. “Windkit was still gazing at her, with something in his eyes. Dovepaw could not read them. As she looked at her brother, her mother started to talk to Dovepaw, half to herself and Whitesky. “When I found I was pregnant, and to have Whitesky’s kits, I was stunned and excited. I thought this would bind us together forever, and then Whitesky died from a hit from a monster. I had no idea what to do. So I ran. And like you, went to the Highstones. StarClan told me that I would need to have my kits for WindClan, for you would be needed. Windkit would have been needed, too, but he died from green cough. Now, my deer, you have to do what is needed all on your own. But I am going to speak for all of StarClan When I say it is not just WindClan that needs you anymore, but ThunderClan, RiverClan and ShadowClan as well.” Dovepaw tried to look into her mother’s eyes, but the look was one that stunned her, although it was unreadable. Then another she-cat stepped out into the clearing, and this time, Dovepaw did not know the cat. Nor did she know the others that started to surround her. Then something incredible happened. Her surroundings started to change, and she was in the WindClan camp again, and started to dread when the cats of her clan saw her again, but she realized that she was dreaming, and relaxed. Then she saw a leader jump onto the Wind Rock. It was Sunstar, the leader before Tallstar. His white and ginger pelt glistening in the sun, as she wondered what was going on, and realized that this liked just like when apprentices got their names. Then she herd the
fimaliar words: “Dovepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?” His voice rain out so loud, as if through the entire forest. Stunned, she said in a quavering voice “I do.”
“Then let all of StarClan hear and approve my choice. This apprentice has served well in WindClan, but is no longer needed there. I shall send a message to the leader of WindClan not to worry about her.
Her warrior name for her new clan shall be Windfeather, for she will now run with the wind, and have the grace and beauty of a feather in the wind.” He finished, and leapt down from Wind Rock, and rested his head on the new warriors head. “Guess who picked that name?” sounded a deep voice behind Windfeather. She spun around to see a large golden shape appear from the crowd. “Lionheart…” she gasped. “ I am lost without you, Lionheart. What should I do?” she looked at him, all scars and pain removed from him. “You will never be without me, my love. I will be in the wind, and the stars, watching, and waiting for when you will need me. Whenever you do, just look to the stars, and into the wind. I love you, Windfeather; Remember…” everything began to fade, the clearing, the cats, and most of all, Lionheart. “Don’t leave, Lionheart! I need you… Don’t go…”
Before she opened her eyes, she saw a flash of the face she loved so, and he said, “Remember, Windfeather, look to the stars, and into the wind…” when he was gone, she dared to open her eyes, and she was only next to the glittering moonstone. She started to pad slowly over to the mouth of the cavern. She walked and walked, and she started to get tired, her belly unusually swollen with her unborn kits.
Soon, she came upon a sent that she knew from her kithood. It was RiverClan, the clan that attacked her clan, and brutally killed the elder
Nightfrost, who was Windfeather’s grandmother. She started to get some pains in her stomach, but she thought nothing of it. The RiverClan sent started to get stronger, and soon she came upon the river. She saw the steeping stones, and knew she was on RiverClan territory. She doubted that Crookedstar would mind a small drink taken out of the river, so she knelt down and started to lap at the cold water. Once the rippling water started to calm, Windfeather looked at herself; something cats rarely did. She stretched her neck over out into the water, and gazed into the dark depths. The fish all swam away when she gasped. She was no longer a small gray apprentice, but a fully-grown, beautiful white she cat, with long fur, and not short. She knew insatiately that she was no longer really a WindClan apprentice, but a RiverClan warrior. She started to groom her white pelt, and found a little of her old self in her fur, a light gray stripe going down her back.
The white she-cat walked down the river, toward the stepping-stones. The pains in her belly told her that her kitting was nearer than ever. She knew she had to get to a medicine cat, and soon. She tried to run, but her paws would not let her. She cried for help, but she had no voice. Help me, StarClan! She pleaded silently. As if an answer to her prayer, she saw a RiverClan patrol approach. As soon as they saw her, they ran over to her. One started to pin her down. “Why are you here, loner?” she hissed at her, her voice full of menace. “Help me… kits…coming…” her eyes closed as her voice faded and she could hardly breath. The pain was so bad, and her senses started to fade, and all she knew was the pain. She heard a voice call “Go get Mudfur, and hurry!” that was all she heard, for she was no longer listening. She suddenly realized that she would no longer smell like her birth clan, she would smell like a loner. She also started to realize that this was Leopardfur, the deputy of RiverClan.
Then she heard a soft rasping voice, telling her to push, and everything would be fine. She felt pain, and she knew that at least two kits were out. She opened her eyes, and saw that a thin brown tabby tom, and a big unusually spotted golden she-cat were their, watching her with eyes that were hard to read, and she felt another rush of pain as another kit started to come. The let out a small moan, and her eyes started to water. Just one more… the white cat thought to her self. A few minutes later, she felt one last rush of unbearable pain, and it was all over, as quick as it had happened. She felt herself fall into a deep sleep. The pain all melted out of her body, as she started to dream. She was once again at Fourtrees, standing next to Lionheart. “You figured it out then?” he said. “We’ll never see out kits with together, will we, Lionheart?” she looked at the grassy floor. She wanted more than anything to name her kits with the cat she loved most. “Come”
He said simply. She wondered where he would be taking her. Once he stopped, he was at a small pool of water. He was looking into it, and she fallowed his gaze. When she looked down, she saw herself, in a peaceful sleep in the RiverClan nursery. There were 3 kits at her kneading it for milk.
One was a golden tabby like his father, one white like her mother, and one a silver tabby, like when Windfeather was Dovepaw. “They are beautiful, my love. What do you want to call them?” he looked at her with a look purely of love, and nothing else. “I like the name Frostkit, for the little white she-kit,
Or maybe Snowkit! And the little tabby could be Eaglekit, of Brackenkit!
Oh, and the little silver tabby can be pebblekit, of flowerkit or Rainkit! What do you think, Lionheart?” she meowed. There were so many choices, and all she wanted was for them to be happy. “Those are all beautiful kit names, Windfeather. I like the name Eaglekit for the little tabby, and Streamkit for the silver one. What do you think for the white one?” he looked at her, and she looked at him. This was more than she ever imagined, naming her kits with her dead love. “Brookkit. I like Brookkit. Or maybe Flowerkit.”
He looked away, and when he looked back, Windfeather could not read the look in his eyes. “Eaglekit, Streamkit and Flowerkit it is, then. Those are wonderful names, Lionheart. This is more than I could ever ask for, but your not really here for names, are you?” she looked at him with a sense of knowing in her eyes. “I am here to tell you that you can’t stay in RiverClan. There is something coming, and even though I cannot tell you what that is, you must leave as soon as the kits are ready. I’ll tell you when that is later. Now I must go, Windfeather. And remember, look to the stars, and into the wind…”
When Windfeather opened her eyes, she was in the RiverClan nursery. There were other she-cats there as well. There were two she-cats and a tom, probably the mate of one of the she-cats. “What? Where am I?” one of the she-cats gasped, and looked at her. Her white fur was matted with blood, and there were three kits at her belly. The tom bounded out of the nursery, and soon returned with a huge brown tom with a twisted jaw. “Who are you, loner?” he asked gently. Windfeather still hurt from the night’s events. “My name is Windfeather.” She chocked out, still finding it hard to breath. “Windfeather…that is a clan name, is it not? So why do you not smell like a clan?” he looked at her, and studied her fir a while, but said nothing more, waiting for a reply. Windfeather looked up, and had no idea of what to say. “I do not wish to tell you of my past. Who are you, again?”
“I am Crookedstar, leader of RiverClan. And you are in the RiverClan nursery. Your kits are obviously to young to travel, but you and them,” he flicked his tail at her kits “Are welcome to stay here for a while.”
“Oh, thank you so much. I am so sorry for intruding on your clan. I will just be a nuisance…” she looked up at the great leader, and even though she knew she did not belong here, she felt a sense of belonging. “You will not be a nuisance. But, you shall be a prisoner of RiverClan until I say otherwise.”
He looked as if he did not really want to be doing this, but for the good of his clan, he must, to keep them calm. “I will be in my den, if you want anything else, Windfeather. Just ask Nightfur,” he signaled with a small flick of his tail “To take you to me.” He turned and left the small bracken nursery, the streaks of sun shining warmly on his pelt.
“Hello.” A small voice came from beside her. She turned to find a small tabby she-cat with strikingly green eyes, and a swollen belly. “Hello.” Windfeather looked at her, and turned to face this other cat. It was nice to have welcoming company once and a while. “Hello. I’m Windfeather.
You would be one of the RiverClan queens, right?” she hoped she’d said the right thing, for as soon as she had talked, the queen started to look worried.
“Yes, I am a RiverClan queen. My name is Rosepelt.” She replied meekly.
“What’s wrong, Rosepelt? Why do look so…?” Windfeather wanted to know why this cat looked so distraught. Her green eyes told her that something was wrong. “My mate died, and this will be my first litter of kits, and I am scared!” she let her feelings start to flow out, and melt into Windfeather. “My mate died too. I know how you feel.” She wanted to comfort Rosebush. “This is my first litter, too. Don’t be too afraid, it’s not as bad is it seems.” She looked down at her three kits, and picked up Eaglekit by the scruff gently as he started to stray too far for Windfeather’s liking.
“Have you thought of any names, Windfeather?” Rosebush looked at her with a sense of understanding. “Well, yes, I have. The little tabby will be Eaglekit, that silver one is Streamkit and the little white one is Flowerkit.”
“Oh, those are wonderful names, Windfeather. I--” She stopped in mid sentence, and her eyes grew wide as she started to moan quietly.
“What is it, Rosebush?” she looked at her, and her inability to talk. “Nightfur!” She called desperately, knowing that Rosebushes’ kits were coming. He bounded over to the nursery. “Go get your medicine cat! Rosebush is having her kits!” she meowed franticly. “Don’t tell me what to do, loner!” he hissed at her before turning tail and running to get Mudfur.
Soon the skinny brown tabby walked in with a bundle of herbs. Rosebush gave another wail as she started to shake. Is this how I looked? Wow…
I never knew…Windfeather thought to her self. She continued to watch Rosebush. Mudfur walked over to her, with a small ginger she-kit in his jaws. “Lick.” He said to her simply. She started to lick the tiny kit, the same size as her own kits, and soon Rosebush had three more kits; the ginger one, a black one, a calico and a light brown tabby. Mudfur was pushing some poppy seeds toward Rosebush as Windfeather asked: “Will she be ok?” “Oh, yes. It’s just her first litter, and she’s not used to the pain. She’ll get over it.”
He then turned, and stepped out into the moonlight.
A young she cat was running through the rough terrain of the WindClan hunting grounds, her belly swollen with the kits that she was to bear before a moon had passed.
Lionheart, the ThunderClan deputy had just died. He was more than the ThunderClan deputy, but Dovepaw’s mate. She was running from her home, from all the cats that had comforted her when her mother, Silvereye died, and when she had lost her brother, Windkit, when they were kits themselves. She was running from the loss that had occoured in her life, Lionheart, and the only thing that mattered anymore to her, was dead. Why me? She let out a wordless cry out to her dead ancestors, which now resided in StarClan. Why me? She cried one last time to the heavens.
She decided that she would go to Highstones one last time to share dreams with StarClan. She turned, only have taken this route once, and she hoped that she would remember the way to the sacred place. Soon enough, she saw the towering rocks, and headed right to Mothermouth. She slowly started to walk, and walked through the winding tunnel, fallowing the stale scents of the leaders of other clans, and the medicine cats. She soon came into an opening in the tunnel, and saw the most wonderful thing ever. It was like a stone made of the night sky, and all the stars of Silverpelt. She remembered seeing her leader, and deputy, pressing their noses to the stone.
She did the same, and when her nose touched the stone, she suddenly felt cold and comforted all at the same time. Like she knew what to do instinctively, she closed her eyes, and waited for sleep to come.
When she opened her eyes, she became afraid that all she had done: the running away, and having Lionheart’s kits, was just a dream. She was in the WindClan nursery, with kits at her belly, laying in a small ray of sun to warm herself on a cold Newleaf day. But then the ground started to move, and she was lying in a large patch of grass, sheltered by a bramble bush. Then she saw cats. All around her, there were cats; they were all in a bright silvery light, like all the moonshine in the forest was directed to them. Dovepaw crouched down low, she was scared, but then she remembered that this was a dream, and these were the cats of StarClan. “What do I do?” then she saw a small white kit walk up to her. “Windkit…” she breathed. This was her lost brother, Windkit, who died of green cough when the two were young kits. He looked up at her with a maturity way beyond his years. She felt so out of place, with him so much smaller than herself. Then came her mother, Silvereye. “Why did you have to die? Why you?” her lost mother looked at her with pride in her eyes, so proud of her only remaining kit, but their was something like understanding in her eyes, too. Then came another cat, one she did not know. “Who are you?” she asked. Only after studying her with the same look that her mother had had in her eyes, did he respond.
“I am your father, Dovepaw. I am Whitesky of RiverClan. I died after you and your brother were born.” Dovepaw looked at him, and saw that she even looked like him. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, mother?” she asked. Her mother looked away, and whispered, “ I wanted to, I really did. But I never got the chance. I’m so sorry.” She let her words trail off, and left Dovepaw speechless. “Windkit was still gazing at her, with something in his eyes. Dovepaw could not read them. As she looked at her brother, her mother started to talk to Dovepaw, half to herself and Whitesky. “When I found I was pregnant, and to have Whitesky’s kits, I was stunned and excited. I thought this would bind us together forever, and then Whitesky died from a hit from a monster. I had no idea what to do. So I ran. And like you, went to the Highstones. StarClan told me that I would need to have my kits for WindClan, for you would be needed. Windkit would have been needed, too, but he died from green cough. Now, my deer, you have to do what is needed all on your own. But I am going to speak for all of StarClan When I say it is not just WindClan that needs you anymore, but ThunderClan, RiverClan and ShadowClan as well.” Dovepaw tried to look into her mother’s eyes, but the look was one that stunned her, although it was unreadable. Then another she-cat stepped out into the clearing, and this time, Dovepaw did not know the cat. Nor did she know the others that started to surround her. Then something incredible happened. Her surroundings started to change, and she was in the WindClan camp again, and started to dread when the cats of her clan saw her again, but she realized that she was dreaming, and relaxed. Then she saw a leader jump onto the Wind Rock. It was Sunstar, the leader before Tallstar. His white and ginger pelt glistening in the sun, as she wondered what was going on, and realized that this liked just like when apprentices got their names. Then she herd the
fimaliar words: “Dovepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?” His voice rain out so loud, as if through the entire forest. Stunned, she said in a quavering voice “I do.”
“Then let all of StarClan hear and approve my choice. This apprentice has served well in WindClan, but is no longer needed there. I shall send a message to the leader of WindClan not to worry about her.
Her warrior name for her new clan shall be Windfeather, for she will now run with the wind, and have the grace and beauty of a feather in the wind.” He finished, and leapt down from Wind Rock, and rested his head on the new warriors head. “Guess who picked that name?” sounded a deep voice behind Windfeather. She spun around to see a large golden shape appear from the crowd. “Lionheart…” she gasped. “ I am lost without you, Lionheart. What should I do?” she looked at him, all scars and pain removed from him. “You will never be without me, my love. I will be in the wind, and the stars, watching, and waiting for when you will need me. Whenever you do, just look to the stars, and into the wind. I love you, Windfeather; Remember…” everything began to fade, the clearing, the cats, and most of all, Lionheart. “Don’t leave, Lionheart! I need you… Don’t go…”
Before she opened her eyes, she saw a flash of the face she loved so, and he said, “Remember, Windfeather, look to the stars, and into the wind…” when he was gone, she dared to open her eyes, and she was only next to the glittering moonstone. She started to pad slowly over to the mouth of the cavern. She walked and walked, and she started to get tired, her belly unusually swollen with her unborn kits.
Soon, she came upon a sent that she knew from her kithood. It was RiverClan, the clan that attacked her clan, and brutally killed the elder
Nightfrost, who was Windfeather’s grandmother. She started to get some pains in her stomach, but she thought nothing of it. The RiverClan sent started to get stronger, and soon she came upon the river. She saw the steeping stones, and knew she was on RiverClan territory. She doubted that Crookedstar would mind a small drink taken out of the river, so she knelt down and started to lap at the cold water. Once the rippling water started to calm, Windfeather looked at herself; something cats rarely did. She stretched her neck over out into the water, and gazed into the dark depths. The fish all swam away when she gasped. She was no longer a small gray apprentice, but a fully-grown, beautiful white she cat, with long fur, and not short. She knew insatiately that she was no longer really a WindClan apprentice, but a RiverClan warrior. She started to groom her white pelt, and found a little of her old self in her fur, a light gray stripe going down her back.
The white she-cat walked down the river, toward the stepping-stones. The pains in her belly told her that her kitting was nearer than ever. She knew she had to get to a medicine cat, and soon. She tried to run, but her paws would not let her. She cried for help, but she had no voice. Help me, StarClan! She pleaded silently. As if an answer to her prayer, she saw a RiverClan patrol approach. As soon as they saw her, they ran over to her. One started to pin her down. “Why are you here, loner?” she hissed at her, her voice full of menace. “Help me… kits…coming…” her eyes closed as her voice faded and she could hardly breath. The pain was so bad, and her senses started to fade, and all she knew was the pain. She heard a voice call “Go get Mudfur, and hurry!” that was all she heard, for she was no longer listening. She suddenly realized that she would no longer smell like her birth clan, she would smell like a loner. She also started to realize that this was Leopardfur, the deputy of RiverClan.
Then she heard a soft rasping voice, telling her to push, and everything would be fine. She felt pain, and she knew that at least two kits were out. She opened her eyes, and saw that a thin brown tabby tom, and a big unusually spotted golden she-cat were their, watching her with eyes that were hard to read, and she felt another rush of pain as another kit started to come. The let out a small moan, and her eyes started to water. Just one more… the white cat thought to her self. A few minutes later, she felt one last rush of unbearable pain, and it was all over, as quick as it had happened. She felt herself fall into a deep sleep. The pain all melted out of her body, as she started to dream. She was once again at Fourtrees, standing next to Lionheart. “You figured it out then?” he said. “We’ll never see out kits with together, will we, Lionheart?” she looked at the grassy floor. She wanted more than anything to name her kits with the cat she loved most. “Come”
He said simply. She wondered where he would be taking her. Once he stopped, he was at a small pool of water. He was looking into it, and she fallowed his gaze. When she looked down, she saw herself, in a peaceful sleep in the RiverClan nursery. There were 3 kits at her kneading it for milk.
One was a golden tabby like his father, one white like her mother, and one a silver tabby, like when Windfeather was Dovepaw. “They are beautiful, my love. What do you want to call them?” he looked at her with a look purely of love, and nothing else. “I like the name Frostkit, for the little white she-kit,
Or maybe Snowkit! And the little tabby could be Eaglekit, of Brackenkit!
Oh, and the little silver tabby can be pebblekit, of flowerkit or Rainkit! What do you think, Lionheart?” she meowed. There were so many choices, and all she wanted was for them to be happy. “Those are all beautiful kit names, Windfeather. I like the name Eaglekit for the little tabby, and Streamkit for the silver one. What do you think for the white one?” he looked at her, and she looked at him. This was more than she ever imagined, naming her kits with her dead love. “Brookkit. I like Brookkit. Or maybe Flowerkit.”
He looked away, and when he looked back, Windfeather could not read the look in his eyes. “Eaglekit, Streamkit and Flowerkit it is, then. Those are wonderful names, Lionheart. This is more than I could ever ask for, but your not really here for names, are you?” she looked at him with a sense of knowing in her eyes. “I am here to tell you that you can’t stay in RiverClan. There is something coming, and even though I cannot tell you what that is, you must leave as soon as the kits are ready. I’ll tell you when that is later. Now I must go, Windfeather. And remember, look to the stars, and into the wind…”
When Windfeather opened her eyes, she was in the RiverClan nursery. There were other she-cats there as well. There were two she-cats and a tom, probably the mate of one of the she-cats. “What? Where am I?” one of the she-cats gasped, and looked at her. Her white fur was matted with blood, and there were three kits at her belly. The tom bounded out of the nursery, and soon returned with a huge brown tom with a twisted jaw. “Who are you, loner?” he asked gently. Windfeather still hurt from the night’s events. “My name is Windfeather.” She chocked out, still finding it hard to breath. “Windfeather…that is a clan name, is it not? So why do you not smell like a clan?” he looked at her, and studied her fir a while, but said nothing more, waiting for a reply. Windfeather looked up, and had no idea of what to say. “I do not wish to tell you of my past. Who are you, again?”
“I am Crookedstar, leader of RiverClan. And you are in the RiverClan nursery. Your kits are obviously to young to travel, but you and them,” he flicked his tail at her kits “Are welcome to stay here for a while.”
“Oh, thank you so much. I am so sorry for intruding on your clan. I will just be a nuisance…” she looked up at the great leader, and even though she knew she did not belong here, she felt a sense of belonging. “You will not be a nuisance. But, you shall be a prisoner of RiverClan until I say otherwise.”
He looked as if he did not really want to be doing this, but for the good of his clan, he must, to keep them calm. “I will be in my den, if you want anything else, Windfeather. Just ask Nightfur,” he signaled with a small flick of his tail “To take you to me.” He turned and left the small bracken nursery, the streaks of sun shining warmly on his pelt.
“Hello.” A small voice came from beside her. She turned to find a small tabby she-cat with strikingly green eyes, and a swollen belly. “Hello.” Windfeather looked at her, and turned to face this other cat. It was nice to have welcoming company once and a while. “Hello. I’m Windfeather.
You would be one of the RiverClan queens, right?” she hoped she’d said the right thing, for as soon as she had talked, the queen started to look worried.
“Yes, I am a RiverClan queen. My name is Rosepelt.” She replied meekly.
“What’s wrong, Rosepelt? Why do look so…?” Windfeather wanted to know why this cat looked so distraught. Her green eyes told her that something was wrong. “My mate died, and this will be my first litter of kits, and I am scared!” she let her feelings start to flow out, and melt into Windfeather. “My mate died too. I know how you feel.” She wanted to comfort Rosebush. “This is my first litter, too. Don’t be too afraid, it’s not as bad is it seems.” She looked down at her three kits, and picked up Eaglekit by the scruff gently as he started to stray too far for Windfeather’s liking.
“Have you thought of any names, Windfeather?” Rosebush looked at her with a sense of understanding. “Well, yes, I have. The little tabby will be Eaglekit, that silver one is Streamkit and the little white one is Flowerkit.”
“Oh, those are wonderful names, Windfeather. I--” She stopped in mid sentence, and her eyes grew wide as she started to moan quietly.
“What is it, Rosebush?” she looked at her, and her inability to talk. “Nightfur!” She called desperately, knowing that Rosebushes’ kits were coming. He bounded over to the nursery. “Go get your medicine cat! Rosebush is having her kits!” she meowed franticly. “Don’t tell me what to do, loner!” he hissed at her before turning tail and running to get Mudfur.
Soon the skinny brown tabby walked in with a bundle of herbs. Rosebush gave another wail as she started to shake. Is this how I looked? Wow…
I never knew…Windfeather thought to her self. She continued to watch Rosebush. Mudfur walked over to her, with a small ginger she-kit in his jaws. “Lick.” He said to her simply. She started to lick the tiny kit, the same size as her own kits, and soon Rosebush had three more kits; the ginger one, a black one, a calico and a light brown tabby. Mudfur was pushing some poppy seeds toward Rosebush as Windfeather asked: “Will she be ok?” “Oh, yes. It’s just her first litter, and she’s not used to the pain. She’ll get over it.”
He then turned, and stepped out into the moonlight.
