Prologue
A cat—a yellow tabby with amber eyes—stalked a plump mouse through the undergrowth. Just as she pounced, the leaves on a nearby bush rustled and the mouse darted away under a pile of bracken. She hissed in annoyance as her paws landed on the empty ground in front of her.
The bush rustled again and a pair of cats emerged, their pelts filled with stars. The larger of the two—a tom with white, gray, and black fur mixed with stars—spoke first.
"Sparkstar," he meowed to the yellow tabby, "There is trouble coming."
Wolfheart!" Sparkstar exclaimed, surprised.
Then she narrowed her yellow eyes and asked, "What kind of trouble?"
The second starry-furred cat—a pale yellow tabby she-cat—stepped forward.
"Kin of kin, born of the full moon, will bring forth triumph with chaos," she mewed.
The two cats started to fade, as Sparkstar pondered the she-cat's words. At this, Sparkstar leapt up from where she was sitting and bounded forward to stop the cats from leaving.
"Wolfheart, Heathercloud! Wait!" she meowed after them. But she was too late. She stopped where Wolfheart and Heathercloud had previously been standing—they were gone.
"What do you mean…." she whispered. But they could not hear her.
The forest was dark, but the full moon shone brightly in the star-filled, night sky. The air was filled with the chirping of crickets. But, from across a wall of leafy branches and bramble, the groans and shrill mews of a cat could be heard.
Inside the protective wall, there was a large clearing, the floor of which was covered in soft sand. A small pool of water was fitted in between two large dens, near the back of the clearing, and off to the side. Various other dens surrounded the clearing.
A black tom cat dashed across the clearing and into one of the dens. A second tom followed close behind him, but this one's coloring was pure white. Inside the den, a very pale brown she-cat struggled to give birth to her kits. Both cats rushed to her side.
"Stay back unless I need you, Whiteclaw," the black tom mewed to the white tom.
Whiteclaw hesitantly moved back, but kept his bright green eyes locked on the she-cat. The black tom turned to the small she-cat. She let out a loud groan.
"It's alright, Finchflight. You're doing great." He told her soothingly.
"Mintfrost," she gasped out, "I can't-"
"Yes, you can," Mintfrost interrupted her, "Now push."
So, Finchflight pushed. And finally, the first kit had arrived. The kit gasped its first breath and Whiteclaw leaned forward to gaze down at it in wonder.
"Lick him. Quickly, he needs warmth," Mintfrost mewed.
"A tom…." Whiteclaw breathed, and he started to lick his kit vigorously.
Soon after, the second kit arrived. After a few moments of licking the second kit, Mintfrost sat back and mewed, "There, you're done. You did wonderfully, Finchflight. You have two healthy kits."
He sat back and began to lick the other kit, purring as he did so. Finchflight lay there exhausted, but purring loudly, all the while.