Sunset was showing its final colors as the queens gathered around the dead mother. "She's dead," one solemnly proclaimed. "Poor Nighteyes! Where's the kit, though?" asked a small silver tabby. "Right here," answered a red she-cat. Between the red queen' paws was small bundle.
It was a kit. He was a shiny black all over, except for the large patches on his pelt. They were solid gold. Suddenly, the quiet of their mourning was interrupted by a cat crashing through the nursery wall. "Is Nighteyes all right?" he asked breathlessly. None of the queens answered. The huge white cat then noticed the motionless lump of black fur. "No," he whispered. "No, she can't be dead."
"She is, Blackstar. I'm sorry. But your son is alive," said the silver tabby.
The red she-cat gently pushed forward the black and gold bundle.
The black-pawed leader looked sadly but lovingly on the kit. "Look at his patches. They're like the sun," whispered another cat.
Blackstar raised his head and looked at all of the queens. "His name is Sunkit," he announced. "And one day, he will be a great warrior."