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Emberwing licked the tiny heads of her mewling kits with pride. Their father, Emberwing's mate, Iceheart, poked his white head through the brambles of the nursery.
"How are they doing?" He kept his voice low so as to not disturb the kits. His silver eyes shined like moonlight on the lake as he also licked the tops of their heads. "Do we have names yet?" He asked, looking up at Emberwing. Emberwing cocked her head as she looked at her kits. There were three kits- two toms and a she-cat. The first tom had bright, curious yellow eyes and a grey pelt streaked with white. He would be called Badgerkit. The second tom took after his father- with eyes like two small moons, and pelt like it was smothered with snow. Emberwing knew he had to be called Frostkit. But the she-cat - Emberwing knew she had to be called something special. The she-cat was, quite simply, beautiful. Emberwing didn't just think that because she was her kit- she just saw it. The kit's eyes were the deepest and brightest green Emberwing had ever seen- and they had a thin white ring all the way around them which made them look bigger and more imposing. The kit also seemed to mirror Silverpelt in her fur. She was the blackest black any cat could ever have seen- but was speckled and prickled all over with tiny, glowing pin-pricks of the purest white and silver. Emberwing got the feeling that if this kit was suspended in the sky along with the real stars no-one would ever see anything out of the ordinary- except those magnificent green eyes.
"Badgerkit, Frostkit," Emberwing pointed out the kits to Iceheart. "And- and-" she paused for a moment- searching for the perfect name. "And Starkit."