"Rippedkit! Get up! Do you want some worthless kittypet stepping over your mangy pelt?" Yowled the black figure of the ex-rogue and now deputy, Deathblow. The tom was mates with Forgottenheart, another ex-rogue, and she was nursing their second litter. Fangpaw and Bonepaw were battle training with their younger siblings, Rippedkit and Strikekit.
Rippedkit hissed in anger and launched himself forward, full force and slammed into his brother, Bonepaw's legs. The larger tom fell forward, smashing Rippedkit to the ground. The smaller black figure was used to being attacked with unsheathed claws and dealing with the pain, so the pressure pinning him to the ground was nothing. He yowled again and latched onto the back of Bonepaw's neck, but felt Strikekit ripping at his own head.
He wiggled his way out from under Bonepaw and knocked Strikekit over the head. Rippedkit was by far the best fighter of the 4 offspring. A moon ago he was named Deathkit, Deathblow's favorite kit. The battle training had taken its toll though. All the kits ganging up on him had left his pelt ripped and torn. His father felt as though the next Deathblow should be perfect in every way, so Deathkit became Rippedkit, the blue eyed tom standing in the mossy clearing.
Rippedkit attacked the fallen figure of Strikekit, rippling mercilessly at the face of the tom. He felt the thud of Fangpaw slamming into his flank, and he rolled through the air but landed on his feet, pouncing directly at the figure of Fangpaw. He had the she-cat's throat in his jaws, and was holding tight.
Deathblow couldn't watch his kits kill each other, so he ripped his son off of his daughter and sent them both spilling backwards and away. He wasn't expecting the barrage that came next.
Rippedkit had launched himself at the next attacker, hitting Deathblow straight in the eye with one of his tiny clawed paws. The deputy reeled back in pain, and Rippedkit attacked his chest. Now a kit couldn't do much to his trainer, father, deputy, and a strong warrior. He didn't give up though.
Rippedkit slashed and tore at the tom's neck base while Deathblow yowled from the attack to the eye. After a strange sensation hit his throat, the tom realized something. He was being attacked, and the small attacker had just bit into his throat. Deathblow hissed, happy that the tiny fangs of Rippedkit weren't enough to penetrate his vein, but angry his son had betrayed him. After all the moons he spent specifically training him! Deathblow gave a final hiss and ripped his son off his neck. He jumped forward and landed on the tiny kit, ripping at his side with hate.
The small kit wasn't giving up though, and bit with the last of his strength into his father's neck. His sides were ripped open, but he instead was ripping his father's neck open. Deathblow realized too late what had happened, and fell in a heap next to his injured son, gasping for breath. "You- are- going to- Dark Forest." He choked out, Rippedkit just smiling at his father's words. "Like father like son." And the kit happily closed his eyes, accepting death.
The kit opened his eyes, noticing a change in landscape, but something else more spectacular. The tom who had repaired his ripped pelt so many times before and had died just recently from a strange sickness was now standing in front of him. "Morningkit, I am here to accept you into Starclan. You avenged my death, and saved your clan with your last breath. Your father's path was to destroy the clans, and you killed him. By doing so, you saved the clans." Silentstream mewed, the old medicine cat looking at the small kit with a glint in his eye.
Rippedkit smiled at the medicine cat. Silentstream had named him Morningkit because every morning he would open his eyes and immediately have to dress some new wounds on Rippedkit. He always said Morning, kit. One day he decided to combine them, and it stuck. Rippedkit smiled and stepped next to Silentstream, purring happily. "You think Starclan will let me change my name to Morningkit?" He asked, receiving a happy chuckle from Silentstream.