Prologue
Snowfoot lay in the nursery, licking her newborn kits. There were four, three in the image of their father, the Thunderclan warrior Greyfur. She sighed and licked them softly as they slept. She looked down at the smallest female and nudged her softly with the end of her nose. "My little Spottedkit…" she said, with a glow of motherly affection for the smallest of her offspring. She had a feeling that this little cat would grow up to be a great Clan member one day….
Chapter One
The Beginning
Spottedkit ran out of the nursery, her bright eyes shining with happiness and excitement as she raced with her two brothers, Stormkit and Foxkit, and her sister, Tallkit.
She let out a giggling mmrow and chased them around the grassy area. "I'll get you, Shadowclan!" she yelled, with a playful growl, and pounced onto Foxkit, nipping at his pelt playfully. He let out an oomph of surprise as she landed on him, and swiped at her with sheathed paws, showing her his teeth as he rolled until he was on top of her.
"Never! I'll be the only cat walking away from here!" he exclaimed, and took feeble blows at her exposed belly with his paws, until Tallkit and Stormkit went tumbling into them, knocking them all into a confused and exhausted pile of kittens. Snowfoot, hearing the commotion, walked out of the nursery, and upon seeing the pile of kits, began to laugh.
"Now, come on. Let's play nice." she said, still chuckling.
"Yes, mother." they all said in unison, and began to share tongues with each other.
Just then, Greyfur came around the corner. He was a large grey tom with huge, black-tipped ears.
"Daddy!" the kits yelled, and all simultaneously pounced on him, playfully bouncing around on his back. Greyfur smiled and turned his head to give a friendly lick to the hyper kits on his back.
"Hello, Spottedkit, Foxkit, Tallkit, and Stormkit." he said, carefully picking up each kit in his mouth and setting them down beside him, wrapping his tail around them. They stuck their faces up from beneath the mass of grey fur and peered up at him, perplexed. Snowfoot and Greyfur let out mmrows of laughter while the kits struggled to get out of Greyfur's bushy tail.
The kits began to bound off nearer to the center of camp, and Snowfoot gave Greyfur a lick on the muzzle, and then set off to follow her kits. Greyfur watched them disappear around the corner, and he bowed his head sadly, with a strange feeling that would be the last time they would all meet together in happiness.
As the kits came racing in front of the warriors' den, meowing loudly and happily, several sleepy grumbles were heard from inside, as Snowfoot moved to calm her kits. Bluefur came around the corner, her coat shining in the morning sunlight, and she smiled at the kits' antics. She herself would be moving into the nursery soon, to have her own rambunctious litter. The two queens touched noses softly and sat beside each other, watching the kits tumble in their play. Bluefur gazed at them and then turned to Snowfoot, who smiled happily.
"I bet you can't wait for yours." she said happily, her eyes sparkling. Bluefur nodded slowly, forcing a smile, but she couldn't help but think about her kits' father, who was deputy of a rival clan, Riverclan. 'Oakheart….' she thought to herself, sadly, 'What must I do?'. Snowfoot looked at Bluefur, confused as to why the queen looked so sad.
"What's wrong, Bluefur?" she asked, frowning slightly.
"Oh nothing…just...just thinking.." Bluefur replied, gazing back at Snowfoot with a small smile, and with that she walked off, leaving Snowfoot alone with the kits. Snowfoot gazed back as Bluefur left, wondering what was going on, before she turned back to her kits, watching them under her careful eye.
Bluefur sighed as she walked off, a strange feeling rising in the pit of her stomach, as she thought of Oakheart and their forbidden love. She decided the feeling must be hunger, and stalked off to find some prey. As she passed through the boundaries of the camp, and into the bulk of Thunderclan territory, Bluefur gazed around, opening her mouth to let the scents of the woods pass through her scent glands. Suddenly she smelt the warm aroma of a rodent. "Mouse!" she muttered, and pinpointing the location with a turn of her ears, crouched into a hunting stalk, tiptoeing into the underbrush. Suddenly, she spotted her quarry and pounced, killing the mouse with one swift paw stroke. She took the still warm body into her mouth and went silently back into camp, stopping near the entrance to swallow the mouse in a few quick bites. Still, the feeling in her stomach remained, and she realized that it wasn't hunger. Something was going to go amiss, she could feel it…