Ravenclaw's Rage
Prologue
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The forest was quiet as the half-moon floated high in the sky, giving a peaceful and sincere atmosphere to the world it looked down upon. A single cat's paw steps was the only sound that could be heard in the ThunderClan camp, seeming to drown out the quiet breathing of sleeping cats. The large tom's steps where heavy and anxiety pricked in his pelt like pine needles as he paced around the clearing of the camp.
A low, pained, groan had the cat's head snapping to attention, he leaped towards the den from which the noise had emitted from, and shouldered his way through the small entrance. Lying on a bed of moss and ferns, was a long furred, black she-cat. The female was lying on her side, face screwed up in pain, and breathing heavily as wave after wave of pain shot through her body.
"Skyheart!" the tom breathed, not daring to be any louder in fear of scaring her.
"Whitetip, thank StarClan, it's the kits, they're coming, now!" she panted between pained breaths. Whitetip stared down at her, worry clouding his eyes until a shoulder nudged his and a low voice hissed into his ear.
"Don't just stand there, mouse-brain, go get help," it was Daisycloud, another nursing queen that shared the den with Skyheart, the grey and white she-cat crouched down beside other female, whispering comforting words to her.
Whitetip stood still for a second longer, then hared his way out of the den and back into the clearing, he raced over to a den that was beside the nursery, and stuck his head inside. "Longwhisker!" he hissed, not caring about waking any of the other sleeping warriors. A white furred cat stirred and lifted her head, blinking dark blue eyes in the direction of Whitetip.
"What is it? I wasn't up for the moon-high patrol was I?" she murmured.
"No, it's Skyheart," he spoke, voice full of urgency, at once her black ears pricked to attention just as a sharp yowl echoed throughout the clearing, the other cats began to jerk awake, pelts bristling but the tom paid no mind to them, only silently praying for Longwhisker to hurry.
The two cat's left the warriors den and where quickly inside the nursery, Skyheart's breathing had become more ragged and uneven as she lay, looking defeated, on the moss, Daisycloud glanced up as the two cat's entered.
"Where's Flowerpelt?" she asked, amber eyes flashing in the dimly lit nursery.
"It's the half-moon, both her and Beatlepaw are visiting the Moonstone," Whitetip's tail flicked with impatience.
"But's she's early, the kits aren't meant to arrive for another moon yet!" Longwhisker hissed, placing a gentle paw onto Skyheart's belly, she felt the next wave pulse under her pelt and the she-cat let out another pained wail.
"Well the kits aren't going to wait for them to come back, they want out," Daisycloud shifted and pressed a comforting nose to Skyheart's cheek. "Try to steady you breathing," she told the black cat.
"I got you because you've had experience in kitting before," Whitetip hurriedly explained in a gruff voice, worry for the pregnant cat making his throat contract.
"Right, take Darkkit and Lionkit outside and don't let anyone else in," Longwhisker ordered, she had swept her tail back, keeping the two kits at bay, they had woken up and where now trying to see what was happening.
"But we want to watch!" Darkkit called.
"You're only going to get in the way," the she-cat argued back, without turning to face them. Whitetip herded the kits from the nursery and they stood by the entrance.
"Help me guard them," he suggested to the small kittens, their eyes brightened at the prospect of helping out and they stood either side of the huge tom, their chests puffed out and soft fur bristling. Whitetip noticed how other cats had begun to gather in the clearing, their weary eyes shone with worry.
"Should I try and get Flowerpelt?" Nutwhisker asked, his mother, Longwhisker, had obviously told him how the medicine cat had been there too deliver him at his own birth.
"There isn't any time, and there is no point in wasting your energy in finding her, besides, her duty to share tongues with StarClan is as important as it is to deliver kits, Longwhisker and Daisycloud will have to do," the black and white deputy told them.
A sharp, low yowl from the nursery had all their fur on end. Brightstar had emerged from his den and was pacing restlessly outside of its entrance.
It was hours later, what felt like moons to the cats of ThunderClan, and the dawn light had begun to trickle into the clearing, when the low, pained, wails stopped. The clearing was filled with silence, as if the whole forest was holding its breath, and then, the sharp cry of a new born kit reached the ears of the waiting cats.
Longwhisker's head poked out from the nursery, she looked weary and her eyes held sadness. "There was three, two toms and a she-cat," she told them, but her words had a chill rippling down the waiting cat's spines.
"Was?" Brightstar demanded, padding forwards with hard eyes.
"One of the toms is dead."