A small she-cat let out an exhausted sigh, letting herself relax. After a moment, she lifted her head again, looking down at her side. Two little forms wriggled and mewed at her soft belly.
"Oh, Windsong, they're so beautiful!" a black she-cat exclaimed, standing over her. "Have you thought of names? Of course, there's plenty of time yet for that..." She beamed down at the calico as if the kits were her own.
Windsong nodded, a small smile coming to her face. "This one will be Cinderkit," she purred, running her rough tongue over the thin fur of her tom-kit. His fur was a pale white with tiny black stripes. The queen turned her eyes to the other kit. This one, a she-kit, writhed madly, as if something were trying to get at her. "And this one... This one will be Ravenkit."
- - -
The sun was setting over the trees of WoodClan.
A sigh escaped Ravenpaw as she looked down from the brilliant view of the autumn sky. If only life were as perfect as that colorful sky. From where she sat outside the apprentices' den, the black and white she-cat could hear her mother in the nursery, fussing over her three young kits.
The same way she fussed over Cindersky... she thought angrily. Flicking her tail, Ravenpaw stood to turn into her den, but found herself turning to face another apprentice on his way out: Raggedpaw.
"Hello, Ravenpaw," he said softly, blinking up at her. His long tabby fur was freshly-groomed and he stared at her with such a look of intensity that she looked quickly away. "Streampaw was wondering if you were coming to sleep now. Palmriver said you and Solostorm are on the dawn patrol tomorrow."
Ravenpaw nodded briskly. "Yeah, whatever," she mumbled as she pushed past him into the den.