Goldenheart's Tale
The crisp air in leaf-fall was beginning. The Riverclan camp stirred below, cats eyes glinting up at the moon. I know what they are waiting for; aren't we all?Sharpstar, the leader, thought. All eyes turned towards the nursery. Murmers spread like wild fire until there was nothing left to say. Suddenly, a screech sliced through the night followed by worried glances. As the night grew on, the screeches became more frequent. Just as all the cats were about to go deaf, it stopped. Sharpstar glanced around uneasily. I hope Whitefangs doing alright in there with Featherpelt.. His gaze unwavering, Sharpstar catiously approached the nursery. He glanced around, seeing all cats eyes were stuck on him. What do they except? He willed for them to look away. He looked back at the nursery, and he saw Whitefangs snow pelt more visable then ever in the harsh moonlight. "Is she alright?" Sharpstar asked, his voice growing more anxious by the second. "Of course. I wouldn't be the medicine cat if I couldn't save my leaders mate?" Whitefang joked. "Shes ready, you can go in to see her," he mewed. Sharpstar poked his head in, gazing at his mate and kits with wide, loving eyes. "Oh Featherpelt…the-theyre amazing!" He stammered. Featherpelt purred, flicking her tail for him to come in closer. "Shall we begin to name them?" She mewed. "Oh, but of course." Sharpstar replied. "The golden she with the green eyes…" he gestured with his tail to one of the kits. "Shall be Goldenkit." Featherpelt finished for him. "The black and white she with amber eyes will be Poppykit, and the blue tom shall with yellow eyes shall be Creekkit." Sharpstars gaze rested on each gaze in turn before nuzzling them and his mate before padding outside. That wasn't that hard…
