Hello! This story is a remake of my original story UNWANTED. The story follows a cat from each clan, each one dealing with something different. I hope you enjoy (:
~ Tangleflame
Chapter 1:
Windclan ~ Fawnkit
A low and cracking yowl spread over the quiet Windclan camp. The moon was high in sky, and cats slept soundly huddled together in the middle of camp. Those closest to the nursery raised their heads in alarm, but once realizing the camp wasn't under attack, they lay their heads back down. A small grey bundle raced out from a gorse bush and slipped through a crevice in the rock a few yards away.
"Kestrelwing! Kestrelwing! Wake up!" the small voice of the grey kit cried, waking the light brown she-cat that lay curled in her nest. Kestrelwing's eyes flew open and met the wide eyes of young Mistkit.
Kestrelwing was immediately on her paws, seeing the alarm in Mistkit's eyes. "What's wrong Mistkit? Is it Brownfeather?"
Mistkit nodded vigorously, her small paws kneaded the ground. "The kits are coming!"
The small white tom that had been sleeping in a nest next to Kestrelwing, lifted his head, his green eyes still clouded with sleep. Kestrelwing nudged her apprentice to his feet, excitement coursing through her. Brownfeather was her sister.
"Whitepaw! Grab some borage leaves and meet me in the nursery quickly!"
Kestrelwing didn't wait for her apprentice to answer as she raced out of the medicine cat den, Mistkit hard on her heels. Careful not to disturb the sleeping warriors in the clearing, the light brown she-cat ducks underneath the gorse bush and heads to the back of the den where a darker brown she-cat was laying in her nest. Brownfeather's sides heave and she looks up at her sister with a desperate and pained look in her eyes.
Kestrelwing touched her nose to her sister's cheek in reassurance. "Everything is going just as it should be, don't worry Brownfeather"
"Can you try and keep her calm Shiningdawn?" Kestrelwing's asks the pale silver tabby in the nest beside her. The expecting queen nods and crouches lower to Brownfeather's head and starts murmuring to her softly.
Placing a paw on Brownfeather convulsing belly, Kestrelwing could feel the ripples starting to grow stronger. Entering the nursery, Whitepaw drops the borage next to his mentor, his green eyes widened at the sight of the queen. He had only been an apprentice for about a moon now and he hadn't yet experienced a queen kitting.
"Whitepaw, you can get me some soaked moss and then you can try to keep Stormshadow busy outside. You can help me when Shiningdawn kits." Whitepaw nodded vigorously and was gone.
"Okay Brownfeather, this is going to hurt but I need you to push," Kestrelwing murmurs softly, then looks to Mistkit who is standing off to side with wide, interested eyes. "Can you find me a stick for her to bite down on?"
Brownfeather lets out another low yowl as she attempts to push. Mistkit is back almost instantly and drops a stick next to Brownfeather's head. The queen gratefully grabs it as she attempts to push again, her stomach rippling with the effort. With a soft plop, a wet bundle slips into the nest and Kestrelwing leans over to nip the sac surrounding the kit and then licks his fur. With a loud mew, the small kit thrashes his paws and Kestrelwing nudges him toward Brownfeather's stomach and prepares for the next kit. After a few minutes there's two more kits beside the first kit. Brownfeather looks up, eyes pained.
"Why... Why is there still pain?" She hisses, her eyes full of pain.
"There must be one more kit," Kestrelwing soothes, but her heart begins to thump wildly as blood spills to the ground behind Brownfeather. Brownfeather's jaws clamp down fiercely on the stick as she gives one last push, her eyes bright with pain, and one last small, maybe too small, bundle slips to the ground.
Quickly nipping the sac, Kestrelwing starts licking the kit fiercely, at first there's no sound, then a very faint mewl. Thankful it wasn't a stillborn, she pushes kit to her sister's belly next to her other kits. Brownfeather releases the stick and pushes herself up enough to view her kits. Happiness and love light up her eyes as she glances at her kits. The light seems to disappear from her eyes and she stares hard at the final kit. Kestrelwing looks back down to the kits to figure out what could have upset Brownfeather. At first, she doesn't notice anything abnormal about the kits, until her eyes rest on the final kit. Compared to the first three kits, the last one was much smaller. Brownfeather's final kit was a runt.
"Brownfeather is one of the most beautiful she-cats the clans have seen in a long time, she's going to expect her kits to be perfect... I'm just wondering what will happen if one of them aren't" The memory is stirred up in Kestrelwing's mind as she remembers the day she had found out her sister was expecting kits. Streamflower, one of Windclan's elders had ominously questioned what Brownfeather would do if her kits weren't perfect. Dread filled Kestrelwing, as she now wondered the same thing. Oh Starclan, please make sure she loves this kit.
"Stormshadow, you can come in now," Brownfeather calls out wearily and the black tom races in. His eyes dart between his mate and his new kits
"Oh Brownfeather, they're beautiful, just like you," He purrs, licking her ear. Brownfeather purrs back, hazel eyes lighting up in delight.
"Congratulations Brownfeather, you have four beautiful kits, one tom and three she-cats," Kestrelwing purrs, keeping her eyes on the tiny runt. The kit's pelt is a beautiful brown color with a darker shade dappling the rest of her pelt. One cream paw feebly pushes at the far end of Brownfeather's belly. The coloring of her pelt reminds the medicine cat of a forest animal, a fawn, that she had seen once when out gathering herbs.
"Oh Brownfeather! Your kits look beautiful! Congratulations." Shiningdawn purrs, looking down at the newborn kits nestled in Brownfeather's belly.
"Thank you Shiningdawn. Just think, you're next!" Brownfeather purrs tiredly from her nest. Shiningdawn lets out a mrrow of laughter and heads back to her own nest.
"You name the tom," Brownfeather tells her mate, flicking her feathery tail to a gray tom-kit with black paws.
Stormshadow looks down at the small kit. "Windkit."
"This one will be Featherkit and then Heatherkit," Brownfeather murmurs, pointing to the tow almost identical she-kits next to the tom-kit. Both kits have the same cream flecked brown fur, though one's pelt seems longer the other.
"Beautiful names for beautiful kits," Stormshadow agrees, licking the three kits heads and staring uneasily at the fourth. The tom wasn't sure why his mate had paid no attention to the final kit.
"What about the last one?" Kestrelwing's steady mew breaks the silence.
"If she makes it to morning, I will name her" Brownfeather's reply is met with a small gasp from the other end of the nursery.
"You can't let a kit go to Starclan without a name!" a small indignant voice asks from the far corner of the nursery. Cheetahblaze quickly quiets her kit, ears flattened in embarrassment.
"Very well, but Brownfeather remember, she is still your kit," Kestrelwing reminds her sister, staring disapprovingly at her. There had been cases in the past where the runts of the litter didn't make it through their first night, and this runt would need all the strength it had to compete with its siblings.
Brownfeather just lets out a small growl in response and curls around her kits. It was hard for Kestrelwing to act as a medicine cat, when this was her sister acting this way. If this would have been any other queen, Kestrelwing would have been forced to accept the queen's decision, but this wasn't any queen. She had long ago learned that Brownfeather had to be perfect in every way, but Kestrelwing wouldn't let her treat a kit improperly.
"Eat the borage and get some rest," Kestrelwing orders her sister affectionately before leaving her with her mate and kits. The she-cat heads back to the medicine cat, her tail drooping in exhaustion. There were a few hours before the sun rose, and Kestrelwing hoped she could go back to sleep. I headed back to the medicine cat den, hoping to get some sleep before the sun rose in a few hours.
In the morning, Kestrelwing settled down next to her apprentice, a vole in-between them. "Is everything okay Kestrelwing?"
"Yes Whitepaw, I'm just anxious to go checkup on Brownfeather."
"Well go ahead, I'm sure you're just excited to see your sister's kits again," Whitepaw assures his mentor, nudging me with his nose. Giving him a small nod, Kestrelwing stands and heads for the gorse bush. Whitepaw wasn't completely accurate, she wanted to see the kits and make sure they were okay, but her mind was focused on the runt. Letting her eyes adjust to the light in the nursery, Kestrelwing spots her sister curled up with Stormshadow and her kits. Kestrelwing's gaze immediately searches for the small kit, and relief floods over her as she spots the small she-kit next to her littermates.
"Good morning Brownfeather, how are you feeling?"
"Better, the kitting left me tired, but I'm feeling more energized this morning," Brownfeather nudges one of her kits towards her belly softly.
"That's good to hear. Have you named your other kit yet?"
"No. No I haven't. I don't want a runt," Brownfeather's voice is steady, though she doesn't meet her sister's shocked glare. Anger flared in Kestrelwing, her sister wasn't allowed to just pick and choose what kits she wanted to care for.
"Brownfeather. It's a little too late, you already gave birth to her. She's your kit whether you like it or not." Kestrelwing tried to keep the anger out of her voice as she responded.
"I don't want anything to do with it," Brownfeather growls, staring at the un-named runt with despise. Furious, I look around the nursery to see the other queens with masks of shock on their face. Even Stormshadow looked slightly uncomfortable with his mate's answer, but the tom stays quiet. Cheetahblaze swiftly rounds up her kits and shuffles them outside, Shiningdawn hard on her heels.
"You don't have a choice. Don't forget that I am also your medicine cat and I demand that you take care of this kit, I don't care if you like it or not," A growl escapes Kestrelwing, her pelt prickling with anger at her sister.
"Why don't you name her then." Brownfeather retorts, her pelt also prickling. The two sisters stare hard at each other.
"Fine," Kestrelwing finally growls, breaking the silence. With one last glance at the small kit, "Her name is Fawnkit. And I advise you remember what I'm telling you Brownfeather, you will take care of her."
The medicine stalks out of the nursery and into the clearing. Pacing the clearing, Kestrelwing's pelt prickled with worry. Maybe I should go to the Moonpool and ask Starclan what I should do, I can't let Brownfeather mistreat an innocent kit just because of her size!
"Kestrelwing..." A soft voice stopped Kestrelwing's pacing. Looking up, the medicine cat looks in to the gentle eyes of Streamflower. Streamflower had only recently moved into the elders den, before that she had stayed in the nursery helping with new queens and their kits.
"Did Starclan warn you about Brownfeather?" Kestrelwing waited desperately for the elder to answer, there was no way Streamflower had known how Brownfeather would react to an imperfect kit without warning.
"No, they didn't, but I have been around long enough to notice when a she-cat worries more about beauty," Streamflower responds softly, nudging Kestrelwing toward the medicine cat den.
"You just have to keep faith that Starclan will give her the love she needs to survive," Streamflower soothes as she leads her medicine cat to her nest.