Three kits suckled from a black tabby queen, her head rested on a fern.
A thick storm battled with the trees; a few drops of rain splattered the newly groomed pelt of the queen, who licked the water off.
Her warm amber eyes stared down at the kits. The blood that stained the ground around her glistened in the moonlight, and the queen licked a few drops off the new kittens.
Suddenly silver light poured into the clearing. The queen let out a light hiss, putting a paw over the newborns. The kittens whimpered.
"Blackpool," mewed a sweet voice, so painfully familiar. A light gray tabby tom with stars in his tabby fur walked towards her.
"Dewspots!" gasped the she-cat.
Dewspots sat down, staring at her as more and more starry cats flew from the shadows. "You are dying," he rumbled.
Blackpool opened her mouth in shock, though no words came out. Her eyes were sad; she nodded. "What about the kits? Your kits, my kits…" Blackpool stopped.
"They will live, Blackpool…" Dewspots stopped. "But… one will die… one will rule… and one will become utterly evil."
What! My kits won't become evil, I swear on the name of ThunderClan! Blackpool thought angrily.
But she knew not to argue with StarClan.
She sighed, and the weight collapsed from her. She slipped from her pelt, the warmth of the suckling kits, and the blood that stained her.
She closed her eyes, listening to Dewspots' words in her mind. One will die… one will rule… and one will become utterly evil…
Blackpool saw her Clanmates running from the forest. A big golden tabby shook her shoulders; a gray-splashed white she-cat wrapped around the kits; a dark brown tom was yowling at the cats.
One will die… one will rule… and one will become utterly evil…
What do you think? Critisim is welcome!