Chapter 1

"Her leg is bent."

Those were the first words I ever heard. Rolling over, I snuggled closer to my mother.

My mother pushed me away. "She's not my daughter. No kit of mine is a cripple."

Mewling in protest, I weakly crawled over to her, and yet again she shoved me aside. "I can't be the mother of a cripple."

What's a cripple?

I heard another voice. It was deeper than my mother's.

"Sandwing, she's only a kit!"

Yes. Only a kit. I pressed myself against my mother's soft fur. She scooted away.

What's wrong? What's wrong with me?

I wanted to find out, but first I had to open my eyes. Struggling for a moment, I finally managed to blink them open. I stared, curious, at the inside of this...place.

A large ginger tom walked up to me. I tilted my head back. "Who are you?"

The tom purred. "Oh Briarkit, I'm your father, Flametooth!"

My name's Briarkit?

I looked around the place. "Where am I?" I asked.

"The nursery, but you should've known that by now," a voice spat.

I whirled around, teetering on my unsteady paws. "Huh?"

A pale ginger she-cat was glaring at me. "You're just an ugly cripple," she growled.

If she was calling me a cripple, that probably meant that she was Sandwing, my mother. I felt my eyes well up with tears. Why did she hate me so much? What was a cripple?

Which reminded me of the whole reason I opened my eyes anyway. I looked at my fluffy white forelegs, my bushy tail, and twisted my head around to see my back. Nothing seemed to be wrong so far. I looked at my hindlegs. One of them was a bit crooked, but that was it! Why did Sandwing hate me so much? I could've just as easily hated her for having not-bent legs, but I didn't. So why did she hate me so much-

"Sandwing, the poor kit needs milk." A new voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked around for the source of the sound. It was coming from dark brown she-cat, her green eyes bleary with sleep.

"I'm not feeding a cripple, Robinfall," Sandwing spat. I drooped.

Flametooth rounded on his mate. "She's our daughter, Sandwing," he hissed, his hackles raised.

Sandwing glared at him. "No. She's your daughter, not mine."

"Fine," Flametooth growled. "Go and leave us, then. Because if you can't accept Briarkit, then I can't accept you."

Sandwing nodded curtly and strode out of the nursery, but not before hissing at me. "This is all your fault!"

I felt like crying again. I padded over numbly to a ball of moss and started rolling it around.

I wish I wasn't a cripple.