"There, there, kits. There's plenty for the lot of you." Tiny mewling sounds could be heard from Thunderclan's nursery as new mother Birchcloud nursed her three tiny kits. She had given birth to them only an hour before, and already she was exhausted. Her mate, Stormtail, was on patrol at the moment. She smiled to herself, remembering when the medicine cat, Whisperfur, had demanded in her quiet way that he leave the nursery for the afternoon. How surprised he would be to find his son and daughters waiting for him!

But he hadn't returned from the patrol yet, despite Whisperfur and his apprentice, Foxpaw, going to fetch him. And moss. Birchcloud was very thirsty. He must be fretting, she mused to herself, and is nervous about meeting his kits. Or perhaps he's trying to find the juiciest bird for me to eat. Birchcloud yawned, her face splitting and jaw popping. Yes, she thought, that must be it. And she gave each of her unnamed kits a long lick before curling her tail around them. She put her head on her paws and closed her amber eyes slowly, watching the nursery blur around her.

A sharp yowl of pain awoke the slumbering camp. Cats bounded out of their dens, moss clinging to their fur. Wide eyes watched as a single warrior was carried in the camp, followed by another.

Birchcloud opened her tired eyes. The kits were mewling pitifully, upset by the noise. She peeked out the entrance of the nursery, careful to keep the kits hidden if there was danger.

The bright sunshine had slipped away while Birchcloud slept, replaced by cool night air. The Gathering was a ways away, the moon wasn't even in the sky. It gave the camp a dark look, the vague outlines of cats barely visible. What little starlight was there shone in their wide, frightened eyes. Birchcloud, now genuinely curious, took one look at her kits. They were restless, trying to find her and her milk. She purred softly to them, nuzzling them gently.

After she had situated herself comfortably around her kits, and they had settled down a bit, did she dare take another peek outside. Cats were gathered in a circle, whispering and stealing glances towards Whisperfur's den. Foxpaw, obviously sickened watched from afar, shaking. Muffled whispers reached Birchcloud's ears.

"What happened?"

"Attack..."

"...fell down a ravine..."

"...those Shadowclan mange-pelts..."

"...broken leg."

Disturbed, Birchcloud flattened her ears. Shadowclan! she thought to herself, Why, if I wasn't a Queen... Then she stopped herself, because she knew that she wouldn't give up her kits, or her place in the nursery with them, for all the Shadowclan ears to shred. The kits, sensing her momentary distress, mewled again.

"Shh," Birchcloud murmured, massaging each in turn with her tongue. "Be still."

"Birchcloud! Birchcloud, wake up!" Birchcould opened her tired eyes, giving Ambershade, her fellow queen, a groggy smile.

"'Morning," she said tiredly.

"Birchcloud, you need to go see Whisperfur right away. I-it's urgent." There was a distress in Ambershade's voice as the usually easy-going queen prodded her with a paw. "Get up! I'll watch the kits."

"You're sure they'll be alright?" Birchcloud asked worriedly. Her kits were so tiny and helpless, already waking at the thought of their mother leaving.

"Yes, they'll be fine," Ambershade replied irritably. But her blue eyes suddenly filled with tears as she looked away. "Just hurry."

Needing no further urging, Birchcloud tore from the nursery. How good it felt to stretch her legs! She walked slowly to Whisperfur's den, the exhaustion and stress of birthing her kits taking a toll on her energy. Cats watched her as she passed, falling silent. Some ignored her, others gave her a nod, and the rest turned away. Unable to look, or unwilling to.

Heart hammering, Birchcloud felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and her pawsteps became heavier. Whisperfur's den was dark, with the medicine cat nowhere in sight. She entered cautiously. The place reeked of death.

Reeling back, Birchcloud eyed the den nervously.

"Birchcloud? Is that you?" the Whisperfur questioned in an almost timid way.

"Yes," Birchcloud said, relieved. "Do you have herbs for me?"

Whisperfur was silent for a moment before she stepped out of the den and into the night. "I only sent for you," she said slowly, as though she were choosing her words carefully, "because there's no time left. I know how close you were, so I thought it was best if you... knew." She beckoned Birchcloud with her tail, entering her den again. "Just follow me."

Obedient out of fear, Birchcloud followed. The stench of death made her swallow nervously, almost backing out. But she steeled her resolve and pressed on. The deeper she got in the den, the stronger the stench was. Scarcely able to stand it, Birchcloud was about to question Whisperfur's motives when she found he source.

There, lying in a pool of dried, and fresh, blood, was a mangled heap of fur and bones. Horribly disfigured, and still bleeding, Birchcloud recognized the cat immediately.

"NO!" she yowled, rushing to Stormtail. The handsome tom stirred slightly. His eyes opened. They were as green as they always had been- like the new leaves in newleaf. "Stormtail, no!"

"Birchcloud?" he whispered in a raggedy voice. More blood leaked from the gash on his throat. He smiled gently. "I've missed you."

"Stormtail-"

"Shh," he soothed, drinking her in with his eyes. "It's alright."

"No, Whisperfur can-"

"I can't." The quiet she-cat spoke with a force that was rarely displayed. "I've tried everything. There's nothing more I can do."

Birchcloud felt the rest of her soul leave her. "No, no, no!" Tears streamed from her eyes and joined Stormtail's blood on the floor. "You will never know our kits if you leave now, Stormtail!"

"Kits?" Stormtail asked weakly. "Tell me about them, Birchcloud."

"I see them in you," Birchcloud said. "I see you in their eyes and their soul, the simple purity that you have. The care you give to others, the loyalty and strength you give to your clan."

"I see them," Stormtail replied, eyes glassy. "I see them." He paused, panting slightly. "The little black one is like a raven in the sky, and the golden one like the sun. So beautiful..."

"No, Stormtail, please-"

"Just promise me, Birchcloud."

"Anything."

"You will live without me. You will love again. You won't spend your days wishing you were with me. Please, you must promise."

"I-I promise," Birchcloud whispered, touching her nose to Stormtail's. "I love you. I will always love you."

"I love...our family." And then, with a small flutter of the wind that blew herbs around Whisperfur's den, Stormtail closed his eyes, breathing his last breath.

"No," Birchcloud whispered, "NO!"

"The kits, Birchcloud, please, they need you!"

"NO!"

"Birchcl-"

"Stormtail- Stormtail no, come back, come back, COME BACK!"

"He hunts with Starclan."

"NO!"

And as the sun rose and journeyed across the sky, the cats buried the noble cat Stormtail, Birchcloud only joining to pay her last respects before returning, glassy-eyed and dazed, to her kits. She looked at them in turn.

The black one, with gray on her eyes, tail, and legs, was the shyest. "Ravenkit," she whispered.

The golden-yellow one had orange on her eyes, tail, and legs as well, with a stripe down her back. "Sunkit," Birchcloud said.

The final, and oldest, kit was a dark gray color with darker stripes and his tail and body, and Birchcloud looked at him for a long, long time. "Stormkit," she said at last.