Sunflower
It was a cold night, the wind howling through the trees. The snow thundered on the ground, storm raging on mercilessly. A high-pitched shriek cut through the night, the sound disturbing anything near. Warriors grumbled from inside their den, and the elders complained. Apprentices started to bet what genders they would be, and kits began their worried questions. A small she-cat ran out into the storm, fighting her way to the medicine den.
"She's kitting!" The tabby she-cat had to raise her voice above the wind, but the medicine cat was already up and hustling around. He pushed out of the den, a tiny white she-cat obediently following him, herbs nestled in her jaws. The tom quickly ducked into the nursery, and motioned for him companion to set the herbs down.
"Honeyflight, grab a stick," he growled to the she-cat who ran to get him. She nodded and raced out of the den, returning with a sturdy stick and dropped it next to the kitting queen.
"Brightfrost, when I say three, push. When there's pain bite on the stick," he instructed as the panting queen lapped up the herbs the apprentice set next to her.
Brightfrost managed to nod before grabbing the stick. "One," he began. "two, three!" At three, Brightfrost pushed just as she was told to do. A small gray kit plopped out, and the apprentice started to lick it's fur the wrong way before setting near it's mother.
"One more," he purred, weariness completely pushed away from his dark amber eyes. He shifted his paws on her belly as the queen bit the stick, which splintered under the pressure. "One, two… three."
He quickly nipped the sack and frowned at what he saw inside. Instead of one kit, there was two tiny kits, their features identical. He pushed it away – nothing could be meant by this. It was his mistake, after all.
His apprentice peeked over his black-furred shoulder. "Shadowwing?" she asked, voice laced with curiousity. "Why is there two of them?"
Shadowwing waited to reply until he was finished licking them and gave him to the now-purring Brightfrost. "I don't know, Snowpaw. Come, let's give Brightfrost some room. Go fetch her mate, and I'll grab the extra herbs." He dipped his head to the queen. "Congratulations," he told her simply before leaving, and in his place was her mate.
"Brightfrost!" he exclaimed, purring. "Three!"
Brightfrost nodded and smiled. "There was only supposed to be two, but these guys are even better."
He looked over his kits, and nuzzled the ginger queen. "Want to name them?"
She nodded slowly, her ears pricked. "Of course." Brightfrost focused on the first born, and dark gray tom with strong seeming legs. "Stormkit, after the storm he was born in. How does that sound, Owlclaw?"
Owlclaw smiled widely. "Beautiful, just like you," he purred, licking her ear. The last two were white she-cats with light ginger, gray and black spots, with dark brown paws. They were perfect, delicate. "Rosekit."
Brightfrost curled her tail around them, concealing the three in its fur. "Sagekit, for the last one," she murmured, resting her head on her white paws.
"Good night, my love." Owlclaw whispered, giving her one final nuzzle before curling up around his growing family and purred himself to sleep.
AN:
There we go! I think I might continue this story, unlike my others. What do you think? Please review – constructive critism is appreciative!