SPOILERS WARNING!
This story may contain spoilers from Yellowfang's Secret and Into the Wild.
You have been warned!
OoOoO
Nettleleaf watched with wide, troubled green eyes as the dark gray she-cat with long, matted fur stumbled out of the bramble entrance of the ShadowClan camp. She couldn't believe what just happened. Yellowfang, who'd been ShadowClan's medicine cat since before Nettleleaf was born, had been banished; accused of murdering two kits. It was unthinkable.
As soon as Yellowfang disappeared from view, the cats in the clearing gathered together in clusters, whispering and gossiping in shock and horror. Nettleleaf couldn't bring herself to join in. She was tempted, with a glance at the group of cats who'd stood by Yellowfang. Rowanberry and Nutwhisker, Yellowfang's littermates, and Newtspeck were huddled together with worried expressions.
Deciding against joining them, she turned toward the middle of the clearing, where Brightflower and Brackenfoot were curled around two tiny, ragged shapes. Nettleleaf didn't agree with them assuming their own daughter would murder their kits, but she knew grief could drive any cat mad. So, she settled down on Brightflower's other side to keep vigil over the two newest deaths since Brokenstar became leader.
Only several cats actually bothered to join with the vigil, most warriors continued with their stupid battle training, and a few hunted. Scorchwind sat next to Nettleleaf for a little while before joining a patrol.
By the time dawn began to light the sky, Nettleleaf was stiff and tired. She didn't bother watching Runningnose help carry the kits out of camp. She returned to her nest in the warriors den and curled up in the stale, prickly moss. The bedding hadn't been changed in many days, since the apprentices were too busy training for battle.
Nettleleaf's sleep was disturbed with terrible dreams of kits fighting, blood staining the ground. When she woke again she felt like she hadn't slept at all. Leaving the den, she sat in a patch of sunlight at the edge of the clearing, giving herself a quick wash as she watched the goings-on in the camp.
She was used to seeing the clan deputy, whether it was Raggedpelt, Foxheart, Cloudtail, or Blackfoot, organizing patrols. Apprentices training with their mentors or playing in the clearing. Kits begging the elders for stories or racing around the clearing getting under every cat's paws. Warriors returning from patrol or sharing tongues in the clearing. On the surface, it looked the same as it always had.
But hidden beneath was where all the differences were. Warriors rarely had time to relax and share tongues anymore. They were always either on border patrol, battle training, or preparing for a new fight. Kits, when there were any, practiced battle moves instead of playing moss-ball. And there were no elders in camp to tell them stories or pass on wisdom. The apprentices were always off battle training instead of playing, cleaning out dens, or hunting.
Blackfoot, the current deputy, was speaking briefly with Brokenstar before the two led the group of tiny apprentices out of camp, probably for more battle training. Barely reaching the leader's belly in height, all the apprentices were only a few moons old and they already bore the marks of vicious training.
Nettleleaf agreed that training was necessary in the life of a warrior. They needed to train regularly to maintain their skills and strength. Even teaching young kits basic defensive skills made sense. But the vicious training Brokenstar put these young, tiny kits through was horrible. Many of the kits were either killed during training or in battles that didn't need to be fought.
Nettleleaf gave a few quick licks to the splash of white on her chest before twisting to groom her flank. The white on her chest and her one white forepaw were the only spots on her that were white. The rest of her was tortoiseshell; black broken up with ginger flecks. As her tongue passed over her slightly-rounded flank she felt a wriggling feeling inside her belly. She sighed at the reminder of why she was so horrified by what Brokenstar was doing.
Of course, she'd been bothered by it long before she was pregnant. But now that she had her own kits to think about, and she kept seeing the future of what would become of her kits under Brokenstar's leadership, she couldn't help the shiver of fear creeping up her spine.
When her fur was mostly groomed and sleek, Nettleleaf lifted her head to gaze around the clearing once more. Her eyes fixed on Flintfang, Clawface, and Scorchwind, who were talking beneath the Clanrock. Standing, she crossed the clearing until she reached Scorchwind's side.
"I was going to go hunting." she told him. "Do you want to come with me?"
He blinked almost guiltily at her. "I was just about to go on a border patrol with Flintfang and Clawface." he told her before glancing along her flank. "And are you sure you should be hunting?"
Nettleleaf rolled her eyes. "I'm pregnant, not crippled. I haven't even moved into the nursery yet."
Scorchwind nodded, his amber eyes moving back up to hers. "Alright, then. I'll see you later." He pushed his nose into her cheek before hurrying after his patrol. Nettleleaf watched him leave before sighing and slowly leaving the camp, heading out into the pine forest.
She tried to take her mind off her worries by focusing on tracking down prey. She opened her jaws to scent the air and kept her ears pricked. As she crossed the marsh, it wasn't long before she found and killed a frog. Not long after, she caught a squirrel, which she nearly missed when it ran for a pine tree.
She wandered aimlessly, both pieces of fresh-kill hanging from her jaws, until her eyes caught sight of a familiar black tom.
Nightpelt saw her at the same time and lifted his tail in greeting. As she approached him, he set down the fresh-kill he had-a lizard-and greeted her. "Hi, Nettleleaf. Good hunting?"
Nettleleaf set her kills down at her paws. "It's alright, I suppose. How have you all been? Settled in well?"
Nightpelt was among the other elders who'd been sent to live outside the camp. Another of Brokenstar's decisions that she didn't agree with. But voicing any disagreements would be asking for death or banishment nowadays.
Nightpelt shrugged. "It's been alright, I suppose. Honestly, I almost prefer it to living in the camp. It just hasn't been the same since…well, you know." Nettleleaf nodded her head in understanding. "And it's been better since Featherstorm came to live with us. She's been helping me with the hunting, and I honestly think it's been good for her. Takes her mind off Mosspaw and Volepaw. Dawnpaw's okay, right?" he asks hesitantly, naming Featherstorm's last surviving kit of her most recent litter.
Nettleleaf quickly nodded her head. "Yes. Apart from a couple scratches, she's alive."
Nightpelt nodded in understanding. "That's a relief. Featherstorm will be pleased to hear it. Do you want to come for a visit? I'm sure the others would like to hear what's been going on. We haven't had any visitors for a few days."
Nettleleaf thought about it for a heartbeat before nodding. She picked up her prey and followed Nightpelt. They didn't walk for long through some marshes and a copse of spindly trees. There, they found a few cats resting in a hollow in a bank where rock had fallen away. Clumps of ferns offered more shelter and the hollow had clearly been dug out to enlarge it.
Poolcloud and Archeye, who were sharing a scrawny blackbird, looked up when they approached, her white and pale gray fur blending with his gray tabby coat. Hollyflower was resting next to Crowtail, who was sharing a mouse with Featherstorm.
"Look who I found." Nightpelt told them after setting his lizard down. The others meowed quiet greetings to Nettleleaf as she set her own catch down.
"How've you all been?" she asked them quietly, noting how skinny they all looked. Even though prey was running well, she expected it was difficult with only a couple cats doing all the hunting.
"We're managing." Archeye assured her. "Any news in ShadowClan?"
Nettleleaf looked down, her eyes studying her one white paw. She knew they should know, but she hated having to tell them.
"Just tell us." Poolcloud ordered. "We can take it. What's happened now?"
Heaving a heavy sigh, Nettleleaf sat down, curling her tail over her paws. "I don't even know where to start." she admitted quietly. "I guess Brightflower's kits snuck out of camp sometime yesterday, and…Yellowfang said she found them, but it was too late for her to do anything."
"No!" Hollyflower struggled to sit up, her eyes wide with horror. "Not more dead kits!"
Nettleleaf nodded sadly. "Yes, but that's not the worst part. Yellowfang said a fox must've killed them, but Brokenstar said he couldn't find any scent of a fox…or that Yellowfang tried to save the kits. Most of the clan jumped to the assumption that Yellowfang killed them."
"What?!" Nightpelt snapped in shock, breaking off into a coughing fit before continuing in a rough voice. "They can't be serious. Yellowfang would never harm a kit, much less kill them. And these are her kin! Her brother and sister!"
"What happened then?" Featherstorm urged worriedly.
"Well, most of the clan appeared to be against her. Only a pawful of cats agreed that it was absurd that Yellowfang would do such a thing. So, since it seemed Yellowfang would be in danger if she stayed with ShadowClan, Brokenstar banished her."
"That's mouse-brained!" Archeye growled.
"When did this happen? Why didn't Yellowfang come here?" Nightpelt asked worriedly. Yellowfang and Nightpelt were close, so it would make sense for her to seek comfort with him and the other elders.
Nettleleaf shrugged. "Well, Brokenstar told her to leave the territory, so that's probably what she did. I don't know where she went after that."
Crowtail shook her head sadly. "This is getting out of hand. Why is StarClan allowing this to happen?"
No cat seemed to have an answer for her, so they instead sat in silence for a few heartbeats.
Nettleleaf looked down at her frog and squirrel. It wasn't much of a catch, but it would feed a few of her clanmates. But then she looked around at the skinny, bedraggled elders around her and decided they deserved this food more than the warriors.
Leaning down, she picked up her squirrel and tossed it toward the group resting near the hollow in the bank.
"Have that. I don't feel in the mood to take it back to camp for warriors who care more for fighting than hunting for their clan." she announced when they looked at her. "Besides, the warrior code says queens and elders should be fed first."
That earned her some purrs and grins as Hollyflower, Archeye, and Poolcloud leaned down to share the squirrel.
"At least some of you young cats still remember the warrior code." Archeye grunted between bites.
"Yes, thank you for that." Nightpelt agreed, flicking Nettleleaf's ear with the tip of his tail. "Do you need to get back to camp? I'm sure Brokenstar needs you for some battle training." he commented dryly.
Nettleleaf snorted. "I refuse to take part in any of his pointless training sessions or battles. At least for a couple moons."
Featherstorm looked up at her and her eyes traveled over Nettleleaf's side. "I was going to ask about that. You're expecting, aren't you?"
Nettleleaf nodded slowly.
"You aren't happy?" Crowtail guessed, though it wasn't really a question.
Nettleleaf couldn't bring herself to answer.
"Does Scorchwind know?" Featherstorm asked gently. Scorchwind, as well as his littermate and the former leader Raggedstar, was Featherstorm's kit from her first litter. He'd also been Nettleleaf's mate for the past several moons.
"I told him a few days ago." Nettleleaf answered, allowing a brief, amused twitch of her whiskers. "He's very excited."
Featherstorm gave a short purr. "Of course he is."
"But you're not." Hollyflower added knowingly.
"I am!" Nettleleaf argued defensively, the fur along her spine prickling. "I am excited! And happy! I want to have kits, especially Scorchwind's." Nettleleaf tried to look and sound confident, but under so many knowing, doubtful stares she eventually crumbled. "I'm happy, but I'm worried. Nearly every kit that's been born lately has ended up dead for one reason or another. I don't want my kits sent into battle at three moons old. I don't want them killed in some training accident."
"No cat could blame you for that." Crowtail assured her gently. "No mother wants to see their kits hurt or killed."
"Why don't you stay with us for the night?" Nightpelt suggested, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle. "Get away from the camp for a bit. Trust me, it's far more relaxed here."
Nettleleaf glanced anxiously back the way she'd come, back toward camp. She knew Scorchwind would wonder where she was, but Nightpelt's offer was very tempting.
"I think I might." she finally agreed, looking back at the elders. "Thank you. I could help you hunt a bit while I'm here." she offered.
"We would appreciate it." Nightpelt purred with a nod.
Nettleleaf spent the better part of the day hunting with Nightpelt and Featherstorm, and between them they collected a fairly decent pile of fresh-kill to share that night. There was even a couple mice and a vole leftover, which they stashed in the back of the hollow for the next day. However, Nettleleaf couldn't help noticing how awkward it was hunting with her belly seeming to grow by the day.
Sleeping in the hollow was a very different experience from what Nettleleaf was used to, as well. The muddy ground covered with soft moss felt similar to the warriors den, and she was surrounded by the soft, warm bodies of her clanmates, but that was where the similarities ended. The damp mud walls of the hollow made the air musty and cool, and it took a while for Nettleleaf to fall asleep while Archeye and Crowtail took turns keeping a lookout.
Nettleleaf woke before dawn to see Nightpelt crouching just outside the hollow on lookout. Creeping carefully out of the den so as not to wake the others, she crouched next to him and stared out across the shadowy marshes.
"When are your kits due?" Nightpelt suddenly asked in a quiet voice.
"Within the next moon, according to Yellowfang." Nettleleaf answered just as quietly. "I suppose I'll be moving into the nursery soon."
Nightpelt nodded slowly. "If you return."
Nettleleaf stared at him. "What do you mean?"
Nightpelt snorted, returning her gaze. "Don't pretend the thought of leaving hasn't at least been in the back of your mind. You were quick to agree to stay the night here instead of returning to the camp and your mate."
"For the night." Nettleleaf reiterated, digging her claws into the soft mud underpaw.
"You're also concerned about your kits." Nightpelt added.
"Are you trying to convince me to leave?" Nettleleaf asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"Of course not." Nightpelt assured her. "I would never force some cat to do something she doesn't already want to do." he added pointedly with a knowing look.
Nettleleaf swallowed and looked down at her paws. "I don't want to leave." she whispered. "But I want to protect my kits."
"And as much as either of us hates to say it, you can't do that in ShadowClan anymore." Nightpelt added gently, resting his tail on her shoulder.
Nettleleaf looked back at him worriedly. "But…wouldn't leaving make me a traitor? Or a coward?"
Nightpelt tilted his head slightly. "Depends on your reasoning, I suppose. Are you leaving because you're scared?"
"Well,…I suppose so. But not for myself or my own safety. I'm scared for my kits. I don't want to watch them die. I know death is a part of life, but slaughtering kits before they have the chance to grow strong enough to fight back isn't fair." Nettleleaf explained.
Nightpelt nodded. "Then, I wouldn't call you a coward. I'd call you a mother."
Nettleleaf tilted her head as she thought about that. "I guess so." she agreed slowly.
"And I know you're not a traitor." Nightpelt added determinedly. "I've seen you in border skirmishes and battles. You put your life on the line as readily as any cat for your clan."
Nettleleaf nodded slowly.
"And I doubt you'll go running to another clan and beg them to take you in."
"Of course not." Nettleleaf scoffed.
"Here." Nightpelt leaned into the hollow and pulled out a mouse leftover from the night before. "If you decide to leave, eat this. It'll get harder to hunt for yourself as you get more pregnant, I'm sure."
"Are you sure?" she asked doubtfully with a glance into the hollow. "Surely you all need it more than I do."
"If you don't need to eat it now, you can take it with you. You never know when you'll find prey if you venture into unknown territory alone. Of course, if you don't want to leave, you're welcome to stay here with us." Nightpelt told her. "Of course, some cat would find you here eventually. I'm not sure how Brokenstar or the others would feel about you living here with us."
"He probably wouldn't like it, for one reason or another." Nettleleaf agreed. "So, yeah, staying in ShadowClan territory is out of the question. But…I don't think I'll go too far. There's still some pine forest just outside of our territory. I might go just far enough border patrols won't see or hear me, but close enough that…I don't know, if anything changes someone can come find me?" she ended uncertainly with a glance at Nightpelt.
He leaned over and gently nudged her shoulder. "If I'm still around, I'll make sure you're brought home if anything changes. Who knows? The way Brokenstar picks battles, he might lose his nine lives in the next few seasons or less."
Nettleleaf snorted. "We should be so lucky. I don't suppose he could lose all nine lives at once, like poor Raggedstar did?" she asked, partially joking, partially hopeful.
"The way he fights? I doubt it. He's too good. Too vicious." Nightpelt noted.
"Yeah." Nettleleaf sighed, her eyes staring distractedly across the pine marsh where the sun was starting to rise in the distance. The other clans might think ShadowClan's territory was dark and gloomy, but to her, it was home. And she would miss it, so she hoped she wouldn't have to go too far away.
And that thought made her realize she'd already come to her decision. She wasn't thinking about it anymore. She would leave ShadowClan, the place she grew up. Everything she'd ever known. And she would probably have to raise her kits all by herself. She'd have to give birth alone, without a medicine cat!
"What if something goes wrong when I have to give birth?" she voiced her thoughts to Nightpelt, glancing worriedly at him.
He blinked gently at her. "That's always a possibility, I suppose. But cats have been giving birth since the beginning of time. Some she-cats say it's the most natural thing in the world. Many she-cats do it alone. You should be just fine."
Nettleleaf nodded, taking a deep breath. "You're right. I suppose I should go…You know, before any patrols happen upon me." She glanced back into the hollow where the other elders were still asleep. The rising sun was showing just enough light to reveal the curve of a couple cats' backs.
"You can wait for them to wake up, if you want. A couple of them might try to talk you out of leaving." Nightpelt reminded her gently.
Nettleleaf sighed. "I should probably get going. If I leave now, I can get across the border before the dawn patrol finds me."
"That's probably for the best." Nightpelt agreed with a dip of his head. "May StarClan light your path."
"And yours." Nettleleaf agreed, heaving herself to her paws. "I'm sure we'll see each other again. Hopefully sooner rather than later."
With that, Nettleleaf picked up her mouse and walked off, crossing the marsh in the direction of the rising sun. She walked for a while, keeping her nose in the air since the mouse in her jaws was blocking her scent glands. When she finally bounded across the border, the scent was fresh enough that she couldn't tell if it was left by the dawn patrol or night patrol. She didn't slow down until she was just out of sight of the border, should any of her clanmates wander by, then she settled down to eat her mouse.
When it was gone and her belly was warm and full, Nettleleaf once again hauled herself to her paws and slowly began wandering while keeping her eyes open for a place to make a den. The territory was very similar to ShadowClan's territory, though there were a few more trees.
Nettleleaf kept her eyes open for something that could be a good, safe den to have her kits in, stopping briefly to get a drink in a puddle. She had to remember not to stray too far from ShadowClan, as she promised Nightpelt, so she took to wandering along the border without straying too close or too far.
Around sunhigh, Nettleleaf spotted a promising place for a den. A pine tree had fallen over so it was tilted down a short bank into a large puddle. Head tilted, she started to approach it when she heard something. She froze and pricked her ears, picking up the sound of rustling and muted paw steps.
"Nettleleaf?"
Spinning around, Nettleleaf stared in shock as Featherstorm rounded a pine tree and approached her, her brown tabby pelt flattened on one side as if she hadn't bothered to groom when she woke up.
"Featherstorm, what are you doing here?" Nettleleaf asked warily.
"I came to find you." she answered as if it were obvious.
"I'm not going back." Nettleleaf informed her firmly. "I'm not returning to ShadowClan until they start following the warrior code again. I won't watch my kits be killed before they have a chance to live."
"I know." Featherstorm agreed with a dip of her head. "I've come to help you. I can't do anything to help my own kits anymore. I hoped I could help you protect my son's kits, instead." she added, her expression both sad and hopeful. "I could help you. I can hunt for you when you can't. I can help you have the kits, and I can help you care for them."
Nettleleaf looked at her thoughtfully. Featherstorm was clearly looking for a purpose; something useful to do to help that wasn't just hunting for the other elders. And to make up for not being able to protect her own kits. And she made some good points. It was getting more and more awkward, hunting with a rounded belly. She could only imagine how difficult it would be to hunt only a couple days away from giving birth. And Featherstorm had experience having kits, so having her there to help would be a relief.
Nettleleaf leaned forward and touched her nose to Featherstorm's cheek. "I'd be grateful. If you're sure?"
"Of course." Featherstorm insisted, standing straight with pricked ears. She looked more alive than she had since Mosspaw's death. "I'd love to."
"Then thank you. I was just looking for a place to make a den. I don't want to stray too far from the border, on the off chance something changes and we can go home."
Nettleleaf lead Featherstorm over to the large pond-like puddle. The mud around it was cool and squishy. They padded around it and up the small bank, where the ground was a bit dryer. Featherstorm approached a tangle of brambles while Nettleleaf explored the pine tree that was slanted down the bank. Peaking under it, she saw that there was a decent size gap between the ground and the trunk.
"Hey, what do you think of this being a den?" Nettleleaf called over her shoulder. Featherstorm reached her side a few heartbeats later and peaked under the trunk.
"It could work." she agreed.
"We could dig out the ground here to make more of a den." Nettleleaf explained, reaching a paw under the tree where the trunk met the mud. The trunk was wide enough to cover at least one cat, if not two. If they dug a couple tail lengths into the mud it would be a big enough den for the two of them and the coming kits for at least a few moons.
Featherstorm nodded in agreement. "And I found some brambles just back there." she added, pointing with her tail. "We could pull them over here and cover the sides a bit for cover and protection."
Nettleleaf nodded. Her paws were aching at the mere thought of all this work, but she knew it would be difficult the moment she chose to leave ShadowClan.
"Okay. Let's start digging it out."
They worked most of the day, sharing duties and taking turns with certain jobs. Nettleleaf dug for a while until Featherstorm told her to start dragging the brambles to the den while the older she-cat continued digging out the den. Featherstorm eventually left to do some hunting while Nettleleaf set up one side of the bramble wall. She pinned some of the thorny stems from the trunk of the fallen pine so they hung to the ground, forming a dense, thorn-covered wall that would deter any predators.
Featherstorm returned with a mouse and frog, which they took a break to eat. It was nightfall by the time they deemed the den finished enough to get some sleep. The ground was damp and cool, since they hadn't had time to gather any moss, but they curled up together and kept warm enough through the night to sleep comfortably.
It took a few days for the den to be completely finished. It was big enough to be comfortable and not overly-crowded, and the mud walls kept their body heat in while keeping the cold wind and water out. They pulled brambles around to almost completely cover the entrance to the den, hiding it from view and protecting it from danger. They also brought in pine needles, moss, and some feathers to make the ground warm and soft.
Once the den was finished, life got a bit boring. They hunted, groomed, talked, and kept an eye on the border in the near distance. Nettleleaf frequently missed the more hustle and bustle of Clan life, but it wasn't enough to send her back.
They lived in their new den for less than a moon when Nettleleaf felt a sharp pain in her belly.
Giving birth was as painful as she'd always imagined it, and despite Featherstorm's calm words of comfort and expert knowledge, Nettleleaf had to fight down panic a couple times. When she saw her first kit, however, she decided the pain was worth it.
When it was all over, Nettleleaf curled herself around her three perfect, tiny kits, licking them to warm them while they suckled at her belly. She'd never felt so warm and happy. She was now more sure of her decision to leave ShadowClan than ever before. Brokenstar would never harm her kits.
"They're beautiful." Featherstorm told her, bending down to sniff the tiny kits with a warm glow in her amber eyes. "Do you know what you want to name them?"
Nettleleaf stared warmly down at her babies. Her firstborn was a brown tabby tom, the second was a dark ginger tom, and her youngest was a tortoiseshell she-kit. "I wouldn't even know where to begin." she admitted, feeling tired and achy.
Featherstorm purred. "Of course. There's no rush. Get some sleep." she suggested, licking the top of Nettleleaf's head before curling up closer to the entrance of the den. The dark forest and night sky was just visible behind her.
Nettleleaf relaxed into her soft nest of moss and feathers, laying on her side as her kits suckled. She couldn't quite sleep, worried she'd disturb her kits and keep them from feeding, but it was a relief to just relax.
The next day, Nettleleaf felt guilty that she was laying around while Featherstorm hunted for the both of them, even though she knew she needed to feed her kits and couldn't leave them yet. Featherstorm even reminded her of that a few times, telling her not to worry and that she was happy to help.
It was much the same the next couple days, though Nettleleaf was able to get some fresh air by sitting just outside of the den while her kits slept. She was doing that one evening while Featherstorm was away hunting. By the time the older she-cat returned, the sky had darkened and cold wind blew through the pine trees, bringing with it the scent of rain.
Nettleleaf ducked back into the den, carefully circling around her kits to avoid stepping on them before she laid down in her nest. Featherstorm hurried into the den behind her, carrying a lizard and a mouse.
"There's a storm coming." she announced after setting the fresh-kill on the floor of the den.
Nettleleaf glanced anxiously past her. "Do you think it might make the water rise to the den?"
Featherstorm glanced back out of the den. "I doubt it, but I'll keep an eye on the water level. It's more likely to go the other way, where the ground is flatter, as opposed to up the bank."
Nettleleaf nodded in agreement, pulling the lizard toward her with a paw so she could eat. It wasn't long before the pattering of raindrops sounded on the roof of the den and the puddle outside. Featherstorm laid down near the entrance of the den, keeping an eye on the rain while she ate her mouse.
"In a couple days or so, I could collect moss for fresh bedding." Nettleleaf suggested when she'd finished eating. She was now watching her kits try to pounce on her tail as she flicked it around. "There's a spot nearby. It should be mostly dry by then. Or I could hunt, if you'd like."
Featherstorm glanced back at her, her whiskers twitching with amusement. "I suppose I could watch the kits while you collect moss. But I'd guess it'll be a few days before any moss is dry enough." she pointed out just as a flash of lightning lit the sky, followed by a rumbling roll of thunder. Nettleleaf's daughter squeaked and snuggled into her belly fur, as if to hide.
One of the tom-kits, the brown tabby, bounced across the den. He braced his tiny front paws on Featherstorm's flank to peak over her back. Outside, the wind was whistling and pulling on the trees, causing the bramble entrance and walls to tremble.
"What's that?" he asked curiously, stretching up as tall as he could to look over Featherstorm's back. "What's falling from the sky?"
"That's called rain." Nettleleaf told him, gazing fondly at him while her other son continued playing with her tail. "It's water that falls from the sky."
"Wow. But what's the loud booming sound and flashes of light?" he asked, looking back at his mother.
"The booming is called thunder, and the flashes are called lightning." Nettleleaf explained. "Rain, thunder, and lightning together is called a rainstorm."
"Is it bad?" he asked, looking back outside.
"It can be." Featherstorm answered, glancing outside. "It all depends. We need rain to get water to drink, but too much rain can cause flooding."
He tilted his head curiously, still watching the rain come down outside.
Nettleleaf watched her son for a few moments before looking toward her own still-flicking tail, where her younger son was still pouncing. As she watched, he successfully landed on her tail, biting the end with his thorn-sharp kit-teeth. His dark ginger fur was fluffed and amber eyes lit up. She easily pulled her tail from his hold and flicked his head with the end, making him growl playfully.
Looking toward her belly, Nettleleaf purred at the sight of her only daughter curled up, nestled in the curve of her belly. Her amber eyes blinked sleepily as she stared outside. Her daughter was a tortoiseshell like her with only a few differences between them. The ginger flecks in her fur were a bit bigger than Nettleleaf's and nearly all her toes on all four paws were white, as was the tip of her tiny tail.
She knew she needed to name her kits, but it was difficult. She wasn't sure what to name them; she wasn't even sure where to begin. And part of her wanted Scorchwind's help picking names for their kits, partially to make up for leaving.
Looking back toward Featherstorm, Nettleleaf guessed her son was getting tired. He was no longer standing on his short back legs. He was sitting, but his front paws were still on his grandmother's flank, and he was resting his chin on her back to still watch the storm outside. He was almost difficult to see in the dark, his brown tabby fur blending in with Featherstorm's.
Nettleleaf glanced from her son, to the weather outside, to Featherstorm, who was now resting her chin on her front paws.
"Featherstorm?" she called quietly, causing the older she-cat to blink open her amber eyes. "What do you think of Stormkit for his name?" she asked, flicking her ears toward the kit still sitting up against Featherstorm's flank.
The older she-cat lifted her head and looked down at her grandson with warm eyes, sweeping her tail around to curve around him. Nettleleaf wondered if she could tell that she was suggesting the name Stormkit not only because of the storm outside, but in honor of Featherstorm's name, as well.
"I think that's a perfect name." Featherstorm purred. "What do you think?" she asked the kit, flicking his head with her tail so he looked up at her. "Should we call you Stormkit?"
He blinked big, green eyes at her before looking back at his mom. "Me? Stormkit?" he asked. When Nettleleaf nodded he perked up. "Yes! I like it!" And then he yawned, his tiny, pink mouth stretching wide.
Nettleleaf purred. "Alright, come on. It's bedtime."
Stormkit nodded and stumbled across the den to plop down next to his mom and sister, who had already dozed off.
"You, too." Nettleleaf pulled her tail from her other son's grip and tapped him on the back with it. "Time to sleep."
"Will the rain come inside?" he asked, pattering over to curl up in a spot next to Nettleleaf's side.
"It shouldn't, but we'll keep an eye on it." Nettleleaf assured him, leaning over to lick the top of his head. "Get some sleep, little one."
Thankfully, the rain let up before long and Nettleleaf and Featherstorm slept comfortably through the night. The next morning was wet and cool. Featherstorm left the shelter of the den to see if there was any prey around. She returned after a short time suggesting they wait a bit, because the rain washed out much of any prey scent in the area. So, they rested in the den while the kits played and climbed over them.
Just after sunhigh, Featherstorm went tense and sat up, causing the she-kit to tumble off her back.
"What is it?" Nettleleaf asked quietly, ushering her daughter toward her with a sweep of her tail.
"I hear something." Featherstorm hissed, stepping to the entrance of the den and peaking outside, the fur along her spine standing on end.
"What is it?" Stormkit squeaked, bouncing on his little paws.
"Is it a fox?" his brother asked with a tiny growl.
"Hush." Nettleleaf ordered, standing and nudging them into the back of the den, placing herself in front of them. "What do you hear?" she asked quietly.
Featherstorm didn't answer for a moment. "Footsteps. More than one set. There's at least two." She paused again to listen, opening her jaws to scent the air. "I can't tell what it is. The wind's in the wrong direction. But I think I can hear voices. It must be other cats."
Nettleleaf tensed. "ShadowClan?" she asked warily.
"Maybe. But I can't tell." Featherstorm answered. She slowly took a few steps until she was no longer underground, standing among the bramble stems. She peaked her nose out the small entrance to the den, her ears pricked. She suddenly flicked her tail up, her head lifting just slightly. Nettleleaf strained her ears until they ached, trying to hear what her clanmate could.
Then, she could finally hear the voices Featherstorm had mentioned.
"Here. This smells like them, doesn't it?" a she-cat's voice asked quietly.
"Yes." a tom's voice answered. "Smells like Featherstorm."
Said cat glanced over her shoulder, meeting Nettleleaf's eyes. It was definitely ShadowClan cats looking for them. The question was whether or not it was for good reasons, or bad.
"They must be nearby." another she-cat meowed.
"Featherstorm?" the first she-cat called. "Nettleleaf? Can you hear us?"
Nettleleaf hesitated, exchanging an uncertain glance with Featherstorm. She recognized one she-cat as Newtspeck, who had been among the cats defending Yellowfang. Surely Brokenstar wouldn't send Newtspeck out to find them.
"Nettleleaf, it's okay!" another she-cat, Rowanberry, called out. "Nightpelt sent us to find you! Brokenstar and his followers have been driven out! It's safe for you both to come home!"
Nettleleaf's ears pricked in shock, and Featherstorm met her eyes with much the same expression.
"Look here." the tom's meow was a bit quieter, obviously talking to his companions. "Paw prints. They were here."
Nettleleaf silently stepped forward until she stood at Featherstorm's shoulder. "Do you think we can trust them?" she meowed quietly.
"I'm not sure who to trust anymore." Featherstorm admitted. "But of any cat in the clan, Newtspeck and Rowanberry would be the last to track us down just for Brokenstar."
Nettleleaf nodded in agreement before she realized she could hear soft paw steps on the muddy bank.
"Nettleleaf?" the tom, Brackenfoot, called from just off to the side of the den entrance. "Are you in there?"
Featherstorm looked at Nettleleaf, who sighed in defeat. She stepped up to the den entrance and slowly peaked her head through the narrow entrance. She found Brackenfoot, Newtspeck, and Rowanberry staring at her.
"You're alright!" Rowanberry meowed, lifting her cream-and-brown tail happily.
Nettleleaf dipped her head in embarrassment. "Yes, I'm fine. Featherstorm's been helping me." she admitted. "You said…Brokenstar's gone?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes, he's gone. He was driven out along with cats still loyal to him. Nightpelt has been chosen to be the new leader." Brackenfoot assured her gently. "Nightpelt asked us to find you. He explained why you left, and every cat understands. We've come to bring you home. If that's still what you want?"
Nettleleaf lifted her head and tail happily. "Of course I do. Featherstorm?" she asked, looking back into the den.
Her eyes were already glowing in the dark of the den. "I want to see my kits. Is Dawnpaw okay?" she called out to the others.
"She's perfectly fine." Newtspeck answered. "We can head back to camp now and you can see for yourself."
"Of course." Nettleleaf ducked back into the den, letting Featherstorm get out while she approached her kits.
"We're going home now." she told them, leaning down to touch her nose to their heads.
"Where's home?" Stormkit asked.
"You'll see. But we'll need to carry you." Nettleleaf told him, nudging them all toward the entrance of the den. Stormkit and his brother scampered ahead, excited to be outside, but the she-kit walked more slowly.
"Aw, they're so cute." Rowanberry purred when they left the den.
"Are you going to take us home?" the ginger kit asked boldly.
"We are." Brackenfoot agreed. Turning to the other adult cats, he added, "So we'll need three cats to carry them."
Newtspeck and Rowanberry both agreed, and Featherstorm said she could carry one if any of them got too tired. So, Nettleleaf picked up her daughter, who hadn't strayed far from her front paws, and Newtspeck and Rowanberry picked up Stormkit and his brother respectively.
Brackenfoot took the lead, taking the most direct path back toward ShadowClan territory, which still included having to take routes around large puddles and gooey mud in the marshiest areas.
It was a long, tiring walk to the ShadowClan camp. They passed a small hunting patrol on the way, but they were too busy to stop. Finally, they reached the bramble entrance to the camp. Nettleleaf hesitated before slowly stepping through the prickly entrance.
She almost expected every cat in the clearing to stop and stare at her when she arrived, but thankfully that wasn't the case. Several cats glanced her way, and a couple stared, but that was probably because the patrol was carrying three kits.
Brackenfoot broke off from the group to approach the Clanrock. Nightpelt was sitting under it with Cinderfur and Runningnose. Before she followed Newtspeck to the nursery, Nettleleaf's eyes met with Nightpelt's. He straightened and waved his tail in greeting before giving his attention to Brackenfoot.
Feeling mildly relieved, Nettleleaf headed to the nursery. She entered behind Newtspeck, and Rowanberry followed her in. They both set the kits in an old nest of moss.
"You can have Brightflower's old nest." Rowanberry told her. "At least until one of the apprentices has had time to make you a new nest. And I'll make sure someone brings you some fresh-kill."
Nettleleaf dipped her head to her. "Thank you. I really appreciate this."
"We're just glad to have you back." Newtspeck told her before both she-cats left the den.
Nettleleaf settled down in the nest, and her kits instantly latched on to begin feeding, clearly hungry from their long trip. Nettleleaf sighed, feeling a true sense of relief to be back home, and that things seemed to be going back to the way they were.
The thorn bush that concealed the nursery rustled as Runningnose ducked inside, a few leaves in his mouth.
"Nettleleaf," he greeted, setting the leaves down, "it's good to have you back."
"It's good to be back." Nettleleaf responded carefully, hoping he wouldn't judge her for leaving. But he didn't say anything about that. He just sniffed over her and her kits.
"How've you been?" he asked, sitting down. "The birth went alright? Your kits are getting enough milk?"
"Yes, as far as I know, everything's fine." Nettleleaf answered, feeling relieved. "Featherstorm was a big help."
Runningnose nodded, giving a sniffle. "That's good to hear. I've brought you some borage leaves. They help make sure your milk comes. I've brought you two to eat for now, and I'll check up on you again tomorrow to see if you need anymore." he meowed, nudging the two leaves closer toward her. Nettleleaf leaned forward to lick them up and eat them, trying to ignore the bitter taste.
"Thank you." she meowed after she'd swallowed.
Runningnose nodded, looking down at her kits, who were still suckling at her belly. "Your kits are growing strong and healthy already. I'd guess they're a few days old?"
Nettleleaf nodded. "Yes. And they're already proving to be a pawful." she purred.
Runningnose's whiskers twitched in amusement. "I can't wait to see them racing around the camp before too long." he told her, dipping his head before leaving the den. He'd only just left before someone else entered in his place.
Nettleleaf tensed for a heartbeat before forcing herself to relax and meet the amber eyes that were staring at her. The eye contact didn't last long, because he looked down at the kits suckling at her belly.
Scorchwind put down the squirrel he was carrying. "I brought this for you. I know squirrel is your favorite." he meowed, though his eyes didn't stray from the kits.
"Thank you." Nettleleaf meowed quietly, watching him carefully. "I'm sorry." she finally mewed, almost silently in the quiet den.
Scorchwind's eyes snapped up and stared into hers once again. "For what?" he asked blankly.
Nettleleaf looked down at their kits, unable to look him in the eye anymore. She wasn't sure what to answer. She wasn't really sorry for leaving, because she had a good reason for doing so. But that didn't stop her from feeling guilty. Scorchwind had told her many times how excited he was to be a father; to be there for his kits the way his own father hadn't been for him and his brother.
"You left to protect our kits, didn't you?" Scorchwind checked, as if he already knew the answer.
Nettleleaf looked up and saw him already watching her. "Yes."
"I don't blame you for doing that." he told her quietly. Her ears pricked in surprise. "I just wish you would have told me."
"I didn't know what you would do." she explained. "For all I know, you would have told Brokenstar. I just wanted to protect our kits."
Scorchwind looked back down at the tiny, wriggling bundles at her belly. She watched as his eyes softened watching them.
"If you'd told me, I might have tried to talk you out of it…" he admitted. "But I would also want to protect them. I would have gone with you. If I'd known how to find you or where you were, I would have gone to protect you. Especially now, knowing what Brokenstar did." he ended with a growl.
Nettleleaf tensed. "What do you mean? What did he do?"
Scorchwind looked down at his paws. "It wasn't Yellowfang who killed Brightflower's kits. Brokenstar did it and framed her." Nettleleaf's fur spiked with horror. "And that's not all. Brokenstar killed Raggedstar. It wasn't a WindClan patrol, Brokenstar killed my brother." he growled, glaring at his claws, which had sunk into the moss and pine needles.
Nettleleaf's eyes softened as she stared up at her mate. She wanted to comfort him, but he was too far away for her to reach. "I'm sorry, Scorchwind. I wish I'd been here for you, but…"
He looked back at her, meeting her green eyes with his amber ones, which softened once again. "I understand, Nettleleaf. Were you okay out there? Did you get enough to eat? Were you safe?"
Nettleleaf purred. Scorchwind sometimes seemed prickly and aggressive, but he was very protective and loyal to his kin and those he cared about.
"Featherstorm helped me a lot. We were just fine." she assured him.
Scorchwind relaxed, looking back down at the kits. Seeming a bit more relaxed, he carefully moved around the nursery so he could crouch by her nest near her head. "Have you named them?"
"I've only named this one Stormkit." she answered, flicking her tail down at the brown tabby. "I had an idea for the she-kit, but I wasn't sure about the other tom."
"What were you thinking for our daughter?" he asked gently, touching his nose to her cheek. Nettleleaf relaxed, filling with warmth at him calling her their daughter.
"I was thinking Larchkit."
"It's perfect." Scorchwind meowed, nudging her cheek before leaning down and gently nudging his daughter's side. She squeaked and swiped a tiny paw at his nose, making him purr.
"Do you want to name our other son?" Nettleleaf offered.
Scorchwind stretched his neck to look at the ginger tom-kit nestled between Larchkit and Stormkit. That kit stopped suckling and looked up, meeting his father's amber eyes with almost identical ones. This kit definitely looked the most like his father, only being a darker ginger than Scorchwind.
"How about Rowankit?" Scorchwind suggested, looking back at Nettleleaf.
She tore her gaze from his to stare down at their son.
"I think that's perfect."
OoOoO
This was just an idea that popped into my head after reading Yellowfang's Secret a while back. I just didn't understand why not a single queen tried to stop Brokenstar from apprenticing such tiny kits, and basically slaughtering them.
Also, does Rowankit seem familiar to anyone?
Feel free to review and let me know what you all thought!