A/N: I, of course, do not own Warriors. And in case anyone was wondering, this takes place in the new territory, many generations after Firestar.
The moon was high overhead, the silver light emanating from it lighting up the whole Thunderclan camp. Normally, the camp would be silent and would seem almost completely empty, with the only noises coming from an owl flying overhead or the cat on guard duty scraping his paw against the dusty ground.
But this was not the case tonight. Two things were keeping the cats from drifting off into a peaceful slumber. First of all, tonight was the Gathering. The cats left behind were anxious to hear what the ShadowClan leader had to say about her warriors' constant intrusions on ThunderClan territory. One of these prey-stealing patrols had not been caught yet, but Creamstar was certain that these sneaky warriors would one day slip up and ThunderClan could give them a beating that they wouldn't forget.
The second reason everyone was awake was this: one of their queens was currently kitting. Normally, this wouldn't warrant the whole Clan staying up to wait for news. But this queen was Creamstar's grand-daughter Tawnywing. Tawnywing was a tiny, delicate-boned she-cat, and some newly-made apprentices exceeded her in both height and weight. On the other hand, the father of these kits, Redfoot, was probably one of the largest cats in the Clan. He was stocky and broad-shouldered, and he had almost had to stoop to lick Tawnywing's forehead if they both were standing up.
The medicine cat's, Cloudwind's, muttering about troubles for Tawnywing seemed to have come true. The kits were not due to be born for several more suns, yet Cloudwind had disappeared into the nursery at sunset and had not left it since. Even Tawnywing's wails of pain had stopped, and the rest of the Clan feared the worst for the kind and gentle she-cat, the last of Creamstar's living relatives.
There a flicker of movement in the nursery entrance. Cloudwind poked his head out and called, "Orangepaw, get over here!"
The orange tabby she-cat had been dozing off by the camp entrance, but at the moment that Cloudwind called her name, she jumped to her feet. Stifling a yawn, she stumbled over to the nursery and disappeared inside.
After a long moment, Orangepaw and Cloudwind filed out of the nursery. Orangepaw looked much more subdued with her tail drooping. Both cats carried in their mouth a limp, still kit, its fur still plastered to its body.
The rest of the cats there fell silent as the medicine cat and the apprentice exited the camp to bury the dead kits. When they returned with muddy paws and gloomy faces, they were bombarded with questions.
"Is Tawnywing alive?"
"How many kits did Tawnywing have?"
"Did all of her kits survive?"
"What do they look like?"
"Can we go see them?"
"Silence!" yowled Cloudwind, lashing his tail angrily. "Tawnywing needs to sleep. And so do all of you. Half of you mouse-brains look dead on your paws. Go, all of you. Go!"
Muttering among themselves, the cats slowly dispersed. They headed to their dens, though none of them slept. Instead, they all stayed awake, gossiping quietly amongst themselves and waiting for the arrival of the cats from the Gathering.
Even though the night was cool outside, the inside of the nursery was warm and had a milky scent. Laying in a mossy nest, slumbering peacefully, was a dappled golden she-cat. She was exhausted, and her tail didn't even twitch as she dreamed.
Curled by her belly were three newborn kits. One was a red she-kit with white paws, the second was a cream tom with red tabby stripes, and the final kit was a cream she-kit dappled with gold.
A stray beam of moonlight found its way into the nursery through the entrance and starry form begn to take shape in it. After a moment, a light brown tabby she-cat with a white chest and white paws stood there, outlined by starlight.
She looked down at the kits with tenderness in her eyes, though she scanned their tiny faces as if looking for something that was hidden from her. She stood there for a long time, until, with a swift, decisive movement, she touched her her mzzle against the cream she-kit's forehead.
"A gift to you from StarClan, little one," she whispered softly, her breath like mist in the night air. "Use it well. And remember me, when you grow older. Remember Leafpool."
The tiny kit stirred in her sleep and let out a tiny mew, as if in reply to the brown tabby. Leafpool smiled down at the kit before she began to fade away.
When just her amber eyes were just left, hanging in midair like twin moons, she murmured softly, "I hope you do not find this blessing a curse... As I would."
Then those warm, golden eyes were gone, and the only proof of the StarClan cat's visit was the scent of fire and ice in the nursery, overpowering the warm, milky scent that had been there before.
