Two kits, born in the night, born to an evil clan.
Their mother loved them immensely.
One, a black tom, as black and inky as the sky. The other, a small she-kit, pale silver with coloured markings. But outside their warm den, there was danger. Cats who were starting a war. A war between clans. And the mother knew, she just knew that these kits, her two precious kits, would be thrust into the middle of it. Mothers always think their kits special, but this was different. Sure, she thought they were special, but this was, as already stated, different. She feared for her kits.
Her clan was dark, a poison she knew would infect her little ones. She wanted to save them, but she didn't know how. One night she had a good idea though, the other clan, the one they were about to attack, they were safer, they always had enough food. But they would never take her in, they would never take in a cat from the other clan. But she know how to save her kits. She would have to abandon them. And as much as she didn't want to do that, she loved them, she just wanted them safe.
She got the young kits fur all muddy, and then rinsed them off the best she could without harming them. She knew the way to the other clans camp, almost. She got close enough, the scent almost overwhelming to her sharp nose. She dropped off her kits. She loved them, she loved them so much.
She got home and make a huge fit, pretending her kits had been stolen. They didn't find them of course, but that slowed their war plans. They were all so focused on hunting down her kits, that they forgot, for a little while, about their hatred of the other clan.