"One healthy she-kit," Mudpool announced gruffly, placing the fiery-pelted kit at her mother's belly. He glanced at the tired queen worriedly. She han't even yowled out during the birth. Just . . . lay there, with that blank stare. He knew that the loss of her mate had hit her hard, but surely she would have reacted to

kitting,

for StarClan's sake! The medicine cat shook his head and sighed. He bent down to nose the small kit gently. Hopefully the new queen would make a good mother. She had to be, for the sake of the kit.

I'll watch over you, he silently promised the unnamed kit. You can trust me.

oOo

Snowfeather snapped to attention, tearing her gaze from the nursery wall. She was faintly surprised to feel a small warm body at her belly. The white she-cat had to stretch her neck to see the tiny kitten who was now sucking her milk. The she-kit's pelt was pure orange, with no other coloured markings. Just like him, she thought affectionately, just before she caught herself. Snowfeather shook her head vigourously. She was done with that traitor! But now the kit would serve as a visual reminder of him every time she looked at it.

"What's her name?" a cat asked curiously. Snowfeather glared at the small kitten who was peering over the edge of her nest.

"Go away, Smokekit," she growled, curling tighter around her daughter.

"But I wanna know," the tom-kit persisted, undettered by the queen's harsh tone.

Snowfeather paused, blinking slowly. What would she name the little kit? She thought for a moment, but no names came to mind. Other than his, but he didn't deserve a kit named after him. He tore her heart into tiny, little pieces, and it was too late to mend it. Her kit couldn't, wouldn't, share the same fate as her mother. Her heart must be frozen, like ice. Then no tom would ever be able to melt it. An idea finally popped into Snowfeather's head. Turning to the annoying gray kit, who was still waiting eagerly for her answer, her mouth twisted into a triumphant smirk.

"Her name is Frostkit."