I don't own Warriors.
Many, many moons worth of travel away from the four Clans lay another Clan called FrostClan. They lived by a lake as well, but their territory was different. There was a forest, yes, but there was a meadow and many streams going in and out of the lake. A nearly full moon floated over the calm water, giving it a peaceful aura. Inside a hollow tree outside of FrostClan territory, however, it was the opposite.
A pale silver she-cat writhed around, struggling to give birth. She had hidden her pregnancy long enough from her Clanmates and if they found her now, it would be exile for them all of worse, death. She bit down on a stick, a muffled screech filling the air, and a tiny silver and white shape slid out onto the leaves. Silverfeather licked it briskly, but it didn't move. The first kit was dead.
Before the queen could fully comprehend it, another surge of pain went through her. And so it went until almost Moonset. By then the last kit, a dark gray kit, was born. Out of her four littermates, she was the only one who moved. She was actually alive. Silverfeather brought that kit to her belly. She looks so much like Applefern. "You'll be Rainkit."
Rainkit squeaked and resumed suckling.
Silverfeather buried her four dead kits and ate the stack of parsley she had brought with her. She rolled around in some wet ferns and picked Rainkit up. The tiny kit started mewling as they crossed into the territory. The noise attracted a midnight patrol. "Silverfeather, what is this?" A dark gray tom asked, eyes narrowed.
Silverfeather put the kit on her paws and faced her former mate. "I found her on the border when I was gathering herbs. I couldn't leave her."
"We'll see if Wildflower will nurse her. She's close enough to kitting." He picked Rainkit up and the cats headed back to camp.
Sorry at how short this is.