A/N: Chapter One is here already! And I'm halfway done on Chapter Two! Woot! Anyway, thanks for Sandtail for reviewing. I hope I won't disappoint. ;) Without further ado... I give you the first chapter!
Morning light filtered in through the branches, dappling Littlekit's pelt. Wakefulness came to him hazily. The warm pelts of his mother and brothers pressed on his on all sides, making him feel safe and cozy. He shifted and rolled onto his back, letting the sun light his soft belly fur. His nose twitched suddenly as he inhaled a mote of dust, or two or three or five. His eyes flew open and he sneezed, a small, dry sound that nevertheless roused both him and his brother. Wetkit stirred, his yellow eyes opening into irate slits.
"Can't you evew be quiet?" he complained with a yawn. Littlekit shrugged, turning to blink at their mother. Newtspeck was still asleep, but she wouldn't be for long. She was rarely asleep when her kits were awake - some sixth sense that mothers possessed, or something.
"We should pway," Littlekit mewed.
"Pway what?" Wetkit asked suspiciously.
"Umm - I dunno. Hey, whewe's Vowekit?" The small brown tabby glanced around. The den walls encircled him, forming a snug space that still had enough room for all of them. Fernshade dozed in a nearby nest, curled protectively around her only kit, little one-moon-old Badgerkit. But Featherstorm and her young were nowhere to be seen. Littlekit frowned,
"Weww, wet's wake up Bwownkit and go find him!" Wetkit exclaimed impatiently.
By "let's", he meant "Littlekit". The small brown tabby rolled over and nudged their littermate. Brownkit shifted only slightly; the young tom had always been a heavy sleeper. Littlekit stared helplessly, not wanting to harm or annoy his brother, when Wetkit suddenly pounced on Brownkit from behind. The brown tom jumped, limbs splaying everywhere, and scrabbled away from Wetkit, baring his teeth angrily.
"Aw, c'mon, Bwownkit," Wetkit meowed, "how ewse was I s'posed to wake you up? You sweep wike a wog."
Brownkit glared for a moment longer, then gave in with a sigh, though he still looked disgruntled.
"We'we gonna find Vowekit," Wetkit informed him. "And pway wif him."
Brownkit huffed and trotted forward. He was quickly overtaken as Wetkit shot out of the den, Littlekit tumbling after him. They exploded into a bright newleaf morning. Though it was unusually warm for this early in the season - or so the queens said - Littlekit's pelt fluffed up against the crisp air. It was a lot colder outside the nursery than inside.
He spotted Volekit almost instantly; the young brown tom was play-fighting with his siblings while their mother watched over them fondly from a couple of tail-lengths away. Wetkit charged across the clearing toward him; Littlekit and Brownkit scrambled to keep up. "My wegs awe showtew than youws," Littlekit complained, looking put out, as they came to a stop.
Wetkit ignored him. "Vowekit! What awe you pwaying? Can we pway?"
Volekit gave the younger grey kit a cold look. "We're playing fighting. I'm Brokenstar, and Mosskit is Reedfeather."
"I'ww be Bwackfoot!" Wetkit exclaimed. "It'ww be awesome! We can be a team!"
Volekit's nose wrinkled. "No way. You're too little."
Mosskit, his littermate, nodded. "Yeah. Especially you, Littlekit."
"What?! I'm not too wittwe!" Littlekit yowled. His fluffy brown tail lashed, blue eyes flashing with hurt.
"I'm biggew than any ob them!" Wetkit broke in. (He spoke the truth.) "Wet me pway, at weast!"
"You'll let them all play, Volekit, or you'll have me to answer to." The voice was firm, authoritative, and threatening. Featherstorm towered over them, yellow eyes flashing angrily. She was dozens of times bigger than Littlekit, or so it seemed, and his ears flattened with fright.
"Aww, but look," Volekit argued. "They're scaredy-cats!"
"Volekit, you be nice to your denmates this instant," Featherstorm thundered, "or you'll be stuck in the nursery for the rest of the day!"
Volekit's tail flicked from side to side, ears flattened in irritation. "Fine," he huffed. "Wetkit, you're Blackfoot. Littlekit, you're, um... you. Brownkit, you're - "
"I don't wanna be me!" Littlekit protested. "I wanna be - um - " Unfortunately, he didn't know anyone else famous. His racing mind latched on to the last unclaimed cat he knew without a doubt was awesome. "I wanna be Nutwhiskew!"
Volekit gawked. "Your dad?!"
Littlekit looked uncomfortable. "Well... um... yeah!"
The four-moon-old brown kit snorted derisively, as if to say, what am I going to do with you?
"You guys are jerks," a sixth kit spoke up. It was Dawnkit, their sister and the only she-kit in the nursery. Her grey-and-white tabby pelt was fluffed up in anger, and her blue eyes were narrowed. "Let's play something else, Littlekit, Brownkit."
"Okay," Littlekit meowed, a little dejectedly. He threw a hot glare at the older litter as Dawnkit led him away, Brownkit hot on their heels. They ended up next to the elders' den, by a patch of ferns. Brownkit cocked his head to one side expectantly, his way of saying, so what's next?
Dawnkit hesitated; she didn't seem to have had a plan for what they would play. "Umm... hunting? Or, no! Spies! Spies!" Her blue eyes gleam with excitement.
"Ooh, yeah! Wet's pway that! Bwownkit, you wanna pway that?" Littlekit turned to his brother; Brownkit nodded enthusiastically, his green eyes shining. Brownkit was often forgotten, and it was up to Littlekit to make sure he got a say. Well, in a metaphorical sense. The one thing you had to understand about Brownkit was that he never, ever talked. Volekit made fun of him for that, and sometimes Littlekit heard the other queens whispering things he was glad Brownkit didn't have to hear. But the brown tom wasn't stupid. He just didn't talk. Or couldn't. Besides that, he was exactly like anyone else, and he was Littlekit's best friend - especially since Wetkit was always obsessing over Featherstorm's litter.
"I'm Dawnstar, leader of ShadowClan!" Dawnkit declared, puffing out her chest. "And you two are my top warriors, umm... Littlefang, and... Brown... Brownshadow!"
"Littlefang" grinned. "What's ouw mission today, Dawnstaw?"
"Um..." She considered for a moment, then lifted her chin importantly. "You're going to spy on ThunderClan! Those foxhearts are always trying to steal our prey!"
"Yesss! Come on, Brownshadow! This way!" Littlekit exclaimed. He dashed off halfway across camp, with both of the others racing after him.
"Grrrr!" Dawnkit suddenly roared. She jumped in front of the two younger kits, causing them to try to scramble to a stop. However, it didn't entirely work, and Littlekit went plowing straight into her fluffy grey-and-white fur; he and Brownkit tumbled to the ground, while she staggered slightly from the impact. She then circled them, stifling giggles as she tried to be threatening: "Grr, I'm Redtail! You're not gonna get away with this, you mangy spies!"
"Says who?" Littlekit stuck out his tongue at her. "Come on, Bwownshadow! Fow ShadowCwan!" With that, he jumped on Dawnkit's back. His brother joined them, both holding on with little claws barely pricking her skin, play-biting ferociously at her scruff. She fell beneath their combined weight, laughing all the way. Littlekit crowed in victory and gnawed playfully on her ear as Brownkit pummeled her spine under kit-soft paws.
"You win! You win! I surrender!" Dawnkit yowled in mock horror. "The might of ShadowClan's best warriors is too strong for any ThunderClan cat!"
Littlekit and Brownkit leaped off of her, beaming. "We won, Bwownshadow! We won!" Brownkit grinned, tail straight up in the air. He bounced around in a little happy dance that was a Brownkit trademark.
Wetkit suddenly came barrelling across the clearing towards them. "Hey! Dawnkit! Youw mom says you - "
A loud yowl interrupted the grey tabby, who stopped and looked towards it in puzzlement. Dawnkit sat up, shaking scraps of dirt and leaf off of her ruffled pelt. Brokenstar! Littlekit gazed up at his leader in admiration. The dark brown tom was the strongest, fiercest cat in the Clan. Before he was leader, the Clan was weak, but now everyone knew the best battle moves in the forest! Legend had it his tail was broken when he avenged Raggedstar's death against those WindClan cats, and that he took out five of them at once. Newtspeck always told them that that wasn't true and they shouldn't believe everything they heard, but looking at the tabby tom, proud and powerful on the Clanrock, Littlekit suddenly had no doubt that it was the truth.
"Featherstorm!" Brokenstar yowled. "Where are your kits?"
Littlekit's ears pricked; Brokenstar wanted Featherstorm's kits at the meeting? That was unusual. Featherstorm seemed to think so, too; her yellow eyes were stretched wide with surprise.
"They just went in for a nap, Brokenstar," she replied. "And besides, they aren't old enough to catch their own prey."
"They're members of the Clan, too," Brokenstar responded brusquely. "Fetch them."
Featherstorm's fur ruffled, but she ducked into the nursery and emerged moments later with Volekit and Mosskit, who blinked a little groggily in the bright light; having been resigned to taking a nap, this must have been surprising for them. Dawnkit stood, looking poised at the edge of the cliff, probably wondering whether or not she should run over and join them. Featherstorm gave her a sharp look and mouthed something to the grey-and-white she-cat; Dawnkit threw her friends an apologetic look and hurried to sit beside her siblings.
"ShadowClan needs more apprentices if we are to keep the other Clans in their place," Brokenstar thundered. "Mosskit, step forward."
Mosskit's eyes stretched wide with shock. He took a few steps forward, when someone suddenly interrupted: "Brokenstar! He's only four moons old! He's too young to be an apprentice!" Yellowfang had emerged from her den at the side of the Clanrock; the old she-cat's orange eyes glittered angrily as she challenged Brokenstar.
"I am the leader and it is my decision," Brokenstar snapped "Who are you to question me?" Yellowfang still looked furious, but she didn't say anything more. Brokenstar turned back to Mosskit, warmth returning to his tone as he meowed, "Mosskit, from this day forward until you earn your warrior name you will be known as Mosspaw. I will be your mentor."
Mosspaw's jaw dropped open in shock. The Clan leader - his mentor?! Littlekit, Brownkit, and Wetkit shared astonished glances, barely believing their ears.
"What about me?" Volekit cried. He sent his brother a jealous glare. "I should get to be an apprentice, too!"
"When you're as big as your brother, I'll make you an apprentice, too," Brokenstar promised solemnly. His gaze flicked across the clearing and landed on a certain warrior. "Clawface will be your mentor."
Volekit puffed out his chest, trying to make himself look bigger, but Featherstorm let out a snarl at his antics. "Stop it! Neither of you are old enough to be apprentices!" Volekit glared at his mother, looking put out, and she met the glare with a flinty gaze, tail stirring angrily at her paws.
"Even the elders have a part to play in making ShadowClan stronger," Brokenstar announced. "From now on, they will live in the forest and hunt on their own."
Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd. Littlekit stared up at the tabby leader, dismayed; he loved to hear the elders' stories, and if they lived outside of the camp he wouldn't be able to see them again until he was an apprentice. Still, it was Brokenstar's order, so Littlekit was probably just being silly. Brokenstar would always do what was best for ShadowClan, surely. Nightpelt, the youngest elder in the Clan - he had to retire early for some reason or another, Littlekit forgot what - met Brokenstar's gaze. "We will go." Deerleap and Poolcloud crowded behind him, looking dismayed; Crowtail and Archeye stared up at Brokenstar in anger, and Hollyflower's expression was one of abject shock. Yellowfang bounded forward to share a word with them, whiskers trembling in indignation, but Littlekit couldn't hear what she was saying.
"Meeting adjourned!" Brokenstar announced, looking satisfied. He leaped down from the Clanrock in a single powerful bound and strode forward to touch noses with Mosspaw. "Time to take you for a tour of the territory," he added more quietly. The pair of them walked towards the Clan entrance, Mosspaw bouncing along behind his much larger mentor with his tail waving in the air like a banner. Littlekit watched, a little sadly, as the elders trailed out of camp with Yellowfang on their heels. Brokenstar's right, he tried to convince himself. The Clan will be stronger. We'll keep all those mangy prey-thieves off our territory! he added, getting a little excited at the thought.
"Aww! I wish we wewe appwentices!" Wetkit complained. Then he brightened. "Hey, maybe if we pwactice ouw fighting moves and stuff, he'ww make us appwentices eawwy too, just wike Mosspaw!" Brownkit beamed, nodding in agreement.
Littlekit cocked his head to one side. "But Mosspaw didn't pwactice extwa," he pointed out.
"But I bet it'd help!" Wetkit persisted, looking excited. "Come on, Wittwekit! Wet's pwactice wight now!"
And so they did. Eventually it devolved into a play-fight, and Littlekit forgot all about what had happened earlier that day, until a couple of hours had passed and their mother called them in for a nap.
"Awww!" they complained, "Pweaase?" but could do nothing to escape the inevitable. They ended up curled in their nest moments later, Littlekit squashed in the middle, as usual.
"Ow! Stop kicking me," he complained, as his brothers squirmed on both sides of him to get comfortable. Finally they settled down, and they fell asleep quickly, but Littlekit was awake much longer than either of them. He kept thinking about the events of the day; of if he would get to be an apprentice early, too, and who his mentor would be, and how much he would miss the elders, and if their new den would be as comfortable as the old one. Probably even more comfortable, he told himself determinedly. They'll have a whole camp all to themselves!
He was just about to drift off to sleep when Newtspeck bent her head and nuzzled him between the ears, sure he was already sleeping. "Oh, my kit," she whispered softly, as he drifted into the land of nod, "early apprenticeships will lead only to trouble. I pray no harm will come to you, my little one..."
A/N: Yeah, I know that Nutwhisker was never mentioned as the father of Littlekit's litter. However, considering that two of them are brown, and their mother doesn't have a speck of brown on her, and there aren't that many single brown toms around Newtspeck's age in the Clan... well, it just makes sense.
Also, I didn't use the exact words/circumstance of the scene as it was in Yellowfang's Secret... I probably would have, but I don't own Yellowfang's Secret, and I turned it back in to the library. :P That's basically what happened, though.
And, at the rate I'm going, Chapter Two should be up within the next couple of days! Yay! :)
