Sparrowfoot rushed from her den, she could already feel her heart thumping painfully in her throat. Trailing close behind her was one of Silverstripe's litter, Thistlekit. Just moments before, Thistlekit had burst through the lichen curtain to the medicine cat's den, wailing loudly that Wrenflight was having her kits and to come quickly.
Sparrowfoot bolstered herself through the brambles that protected the queen's den, thrusting her shoulders through the small opening. Though her fur snagged, she gave the pain no second thought. This was her first birth without her mentor. Sadly, the old tom had passed away only a half moon ago. Goldenfur would be missed sorely, especially by the young medicine cat and most definitely at this very moment. Apprehension flooded the dainty she-cat as the scent of blood reached her nose but she resolutely pressed on, nestling close to both Wrenflight and Silverstripe.
Wrenflight looked a mess writhing on the floor of the den. Juniperkit, Silverstripe's son, lay cowering in the back of the nest, his eyes wide with fear at the sounds of pain that issued now and then from Wrenflight. Thistlekit padded over to her brother and laid her tail across his, "Don't worry," she squeaked, "Sparrowfoot's gunna help her and then we can get some sleep."
Silverstripe shot the both of them a look of warning, and then pressed closely to her den-mate once more, "She seems to be in a lot of pain…"
"It's her first litter," Sparrowfoot fussed, gently licking the top of the heavily pregnant she-cat's head, "It's going to be tough for her. You remember yours, don't you?"
Silverstripe cringed and nodded, "Nothing quite prepares you."
"Exactly. The best you can do is be there for her." Sparrowfoot turned her attentions to the panting she-cat. Wrenflight lay splayed out on a hastily made nest of moss and feathers. Her sides heaved with effort and her tongue lolled from her mouth as she attempted to draw breath.
"Wrenflight," Sparrowfoot said firmly, "I need you to concentrate. With your next contractions, I want you to push, okay?"
A feeble moan escaped Wrenflight's maw, "It hurts…"
"I know," the medicine cat soothed, "But you can do this. Silverstripe is right here to help you." She placed a paw on the distended belly of the queen and nodded to herself. The kits were definitely coming soon.
Thinking quickly, Sparrowfoot rooted around the nests at the back of the den. Juniperkit shrank back, but Thistlekit's whiskers twitched in curiosity, "What are you doing?"
"Looking for a branch," Sparrowfoot responded, gently nudging aside some moss, "For Wrenflight to bite down on."
"Like this one?" Thistlekit meowed, dragging along a stick that was over twice her size from one of the far corners. She grunted as she dropped it at Sparrowfoot's paws. Her small tail twitched with pride.
Sparrowfoot purred, "Perfect, thank you."
She hurried back to Wrenflight who gazed up with her with wide eyes. The queen whispered softly, "I think it's coming."
Sparrowfoot nodded and placed the stick close to Wrenflight's mouth, "When the pain comes, bite down hard on this. It'll help."
Wrenflight snorted, not quite believing the medicine cat but gave a nod. Suddenly, her eyes squeezed shut as her sides rippled with a contraction. With a yowl, she crunched the stick between her teeth and ground down. Sparrowfoot sat at her haunches, calling out encouragement.
"Push, Wrenflight! The first one's almost there!"
After a moment of silence, the first wet bundle slipped out onto the soggy moss. The tiny kit lay prone next to its mother. Sparrowfoot got to work cleaning her newest clan mate. She licked its fur roughly, attempting to get the kit breathing but even after her best efforts it still remained still.
"Stillborn," She muttered, cringing away from the quiet kit.
"What does that mean?" Wrenflight demanded, craning her head to get a look at her kit, "Why isn't she moving?"
Sparrowfoot gently nudged the kit to her mother's belly, "It means she was born already dead. She travels with Starclan now."
A soft moan of mourning left Wrenflight as she nuzzled the kit she would never get to know, "How could this happen?"
"It happens a lot, actually," Silverstripe said softly, gazing sadly at Wrenflight, "Mostly during times of difficulty- leafbare, or sickness…" She trailed off, "In my first litter, I had one stillborn. Only Mousenose survived."
"Sometimes these things are out of Starclan's control," Sparrowfoot said soothingly, "Don't blame yourself."
Wrenflight nodded, though sadness still clouded her eyes. She tensed as another contraction took hold.
The next kit was born- a ginger tom. It wriggled feebly but managed to latch on to his mother, beginning to suckle. With a sigh of relief, Sparrowfoot drew back. It was over.
"You've done it, Wrenflight!" She said jovially, "And look how handsome he is. He looks just like his father."
Wrenflight purred with pride, nuzzling her son gently, "Doesn't he, though? My little Briarkit."
"Shall I go fetch Redwhisker?" Sparrowfoot asked, eager to be away from the den and for a breath a fresh air, "I'll grab some borage on my way back, so the little one has enough to eat."
As she parted the bramble entrance, Wrenflight called her back, "W-wait…"
Sparrowfoot turned, frowning, "What's wrong?"
"I think there's one more…" Her pupils dilated in pain as she bit down on the stick once more to mask her howls.
Sparrowfoot rushed back to the queen's side, prodding gently. Surely enough there was more kit inside! How could she have missed that? She chastised herself quietly. She should have paid more attention- and yet, she could have sworn she had only felt two kits…
She offered quiet instruction to the queen though it was redundant. The routine brought some comfort to the pained she-cat as she birthed her third and final kit.
"It's a molly!" Sparrowfoot purred, nosing the ginger and white kit to her mother who promptly cleaned and dried her. The deaf and blind kit opened her mouth in a loud wail and nudged herself between her mother and brother. She began to suckle at once, a few happy squeaks interrupting her meal.
Wrenflight gave a weak laugh, "She'll be called Poppykit. She's almost reddish…"
"She's beautiful," Silverstripe said, sniffing the she-kit, "And so strong! You'll have your paws full with this one. Thistlekit was the same way, and look at her now!"
Thistlekit appeared at the mention of her name, peering curiously around her mother, "Wow! They're so small. I bet I was never that small."
With a purr of amusement, Silverstripe cuffed the small cat on the ears playfully, "Yes you were. And your brother too. Juniperkit, would you like to meet your new denmates?"
Juniperkit looked warily over his mother's tail. He still appeared apprehensive as he mewed, "Is Wrenflight okay?"
"She will be, with some rest." Sparrowfoot said with a purr, "Nice quiet kits will help her heal even quicker."
Juniperkit nodded, clenching his maw resolutely shut while Thistlekit sighed, "Well, okay. It's time for bed anyway!" Her jaws stretched in a wide yawn and she blinked sleepily at her mother.
Silverstripe curled around her kits, draping her tail over the pair of them, "Goodnight, my sweet kits. Goodnight, Wrenflight."
"Goodnight," Wrenflight murmured blearily, "Thank you, Sparrowfoot. You've been a big help."
"No problem, it's my job, after all." Sparrowfoot said as she checked over the kits once more, "We'll bury the little one in the morning, if that's alright with you?"
Wrenflight nodded in agreement, "I was going to call him Rabbitkit…Do you think he'd like it?"
"I'm sure it'd be just fine with him." Sparrowfoot said with affection. She padded quietly from the nursery and toward the warriors den. She poked her head into the hollow beneath the bush that housed the warriors and whispered loudly, "Redwhisker!"
She was surprised no other cat had been awakened previously by Wrenflight's pained yowls- or perhaps they had and had not come in out of politeness.
"Redwhisker," She demanded once more, "You useless lump of fur. Get up and meet your kits!"
Redwhisker's head appeared over the prone figures of a few sleeping warriors, "Kits?"
"Yes, kits. Wrenflight just gave birth. Are you coming or shall I tell her you're too sleepy to meet your new son and daughter?"
Redwhisker was up in a flash, fumbling over the other warriors in his haste. A few grumbled in protest, turning over and glaring at the disappearing tom.
"She's okay, right?" He asked hurriedly, pacing in front of the medicine cat, "Why didn't any cat wake me?"
A stab of guilt flooded Sparrowfoot. She should have notified Redwhisker as the kits were being born but it all had happened so quickly, "I'm sorry. It was very sudden. She's fine though, just tired. Come with me to the medicine den, I have to get some borage for her before we go back."
Redwhisker nodded, trotting ahead of Sparrowfoot and peering into the medicine cat's den, "Which one is it?"
"I'll get it, you silly tom." Sparrowfoot said with a roll of her eyes. She fished the herb out quickly, clamping it gently between her teeth, "Ready," She said, her reply muffled by the leaves, "Give this to her. Tell her to eat it all- it'll be bitter."
Redwhisker took the borage into his teeth, careful not to bite down on the tender shoots, "Got it. Thanks." He didn't wait for a reply as he dashed off to join his mate.
Sparrowfoot pushed her way between the tendrils of the lichen as she settled down for the night. She turned circles in the soft moss, nestling down. Her eyes felt heavy, despite the fact that she had been buzzing with adrenaline only moments before. The birth had gone well, even with the stillbirth of Wrenflight's first kit. Goldenfur would've been proud of her, she thought sleepily.
The she-cat drifted off to sleep quickly, the quiet of night lulling her senses. It only felt like seconds later when her eyes opened. She stood, shaking the stiffness from her limbs and stretching forward. Her nose twitched in the warm summer air and she froze in momentary confusion- it wasn't Greenleaf yet. Newleaf had barely even begun!
Nor was she in her nest. Instead she stood in the lush undergrowth of a sprawling forest. Her jaws watered as the scents of mouse, squirrel and rabbit flooded her scent glands. She was dreaming, obviously. She realized, with a start, that this was the forest just beyond her camp.
Curiosity took hold of her and lent life into her weary limbs. She padded through the undergrowth, the ferns swishing quietly in the eerily silent afternoon. There appeared to be no other cats around. She could hear no scent anything on the gentle breeze except for prey.
"Hello? Is any cat here?" Sparrowfoot called into the silence, "Any creature?"
The still forest was giving her the chills. It was beautiful but the lack of cat scent made her feel small and lonely among the towering trees. She shrank back against the trunk of a young oak. Her heart thudded in her chest and she could feel a panic building. She drew a long breath to steady herself- this was a dream. She would be fine. If only she could find someone else…
With a detonating boom, a crack of lightning flashed in the sky. Terrified, Sparrowfoot hunkered down to the warm soil. The sunny sky was now obscured by thick, roiling black clouds. No light filtered from above and rain hissed down around Sparrowfoot in torrents, plastering her fur to her skin.
She yowled in terror as another boom resounded in the distance. She shot off from under the shelter of the oak, her paws sliding the wet slurry of mud beneath her. She raced onward, the rain obscuring her view. She wasn't sure she was headed, so long as it was away from the forest and the storm.
She slid panting at the base of the same oak she had left. Her eyes widened in shock- surely she had gone further than this? She whimpered as behind her, lightning struck down into the boughs of a neighboring elm. The bark exploded from the trunk, showering Sparrowfoot with wood shrapnel. She clenched her eyes shut, staggering back as a sudden wall of heat washed over her.
She opened her eyes once more and her jaw dropped. The forest was ablaze. Not just the struck tree- but each tree, gone up like kindling. Smoke chocked the she-cat as she fought to free herself from the inferno.
Suddenly as the fire had come, it had gone. In its wake lay a wasteland of smoldering stumps. The lush undergrowth was completely destroyed, glowing with bright embers.
From behind the charred skeleton of an oak, came a tom. He looked sullenly from the tree's to Sparrowfoot.
"Goldenfur?" Sparrowfoot gasped, lunging forward to touch noses with her old mentor, "Thank Starclan you're here! What's going on- is this a sign?"
"It is, my little sparrow. In a few moons time, this is what will be left of your forest. Nothing but soot and ash…" He scraped a paw over a crumbling fern, "You must be ready. This Greenleaf will be bountiful. I would tell you flee, but it's best the clan grow strong for a great journey awaits not only you, but all the clans."
Sparrowfoot's eyes stretched wide, "W-what? A journey? We have to leave the forest?"
Goldenfur nodded, "Look around you. Can any creature survive in this?" He sighed, "But don't fret. The forest will return. Maybe not during your life, nor even in the lifetime of the newly birthed kits but it was bloom again, as all things do."
"Lithestar should be warned of this-" Sparrowfoot paused, silenced by Goldenfur's look.
"You must not. This is for you alone to bear. It would bring panic to the clans. And it isn't the clan leaders who will bring the clans to their new home. The lies on the shoulders of one cat."
"Who?" Sparrowpaw asked in awe, fur bristling with the sense of her responsibility.
Goldenfur faded, his voice echoing as his image was replaced with the small form of a ginger and white she-cat.
"Poppykit?" Sparrowfoot said softly, "But she's only just born."
"She is a kit now. But she was chosen by Starclan for this mission- she will be ready. She will be courageous. While it is she alone who can lead the clans, she will have help."
Goldenfur became tangent once again, pressing his muzzle to Sparrowfoot's cheek, "Go strongly, Sparrowfoot. Your clan will need you when the time comes. Now, wake."
Sparrowfoot's eyes shot open. Sunlight filtered in through the brambles of her cozy den. She shuddered, the smell of smoke still burning the back of throat and nose. She sat up shakily, fluffing out her pelt and running her tongue through the singed fur of her chest. This was heavy burden to shoulder- but for the sake of the clan she would have to. She would watch Poppykit closely- she did not envy the kit. Keeping a secret was one thing, but leading three clans to safety, that was another.
She fell back into her nest, relaxing. Today, she would get a late start and not feel guilty.