Prologue

It was dark and stormy out, and clouds loomed over ShadowClan camp, bringing with them a downpour of rain. In the nursery, lay one pregnant she-cat and her mate. Her blue eyes were glowing, for she knew that her kits were to come very soon. Her mate, a dark brown tabby tom, gently began to lick her pure white pelt, trying his best to soothe her, as her breath got shallower.

"Get… Pineleaf," she rasped. "My kits… are coming!" Her voice ended in a yowl, for there was a sharp pain in her side when she said it. The dark tom began to rise to his paws slowly until the she-cat growled at him, "NOW!" The pain was getting worse, and she knew that they would come at any minute. With that, the tom rushed out of the den, returning, in what seemed like moons to the she-cat, with Pineleaf, the medicine cat, by his side. The white she-cat was relieved to see that she had come with juniper berries and thyme.

"Here," Pinelead mewed, "eat these." She fed the she-cat a couple of purple berries, and then the she-cat gena to breath normally again. Then, the she-cat screamed as a worse pain throbbed in the side of her belly. "Now this."Pineleaf fed her a bit of thyme to calm her, but it didn't seem to work. There was another pain, and this one, almost unbearable.

"Make it stop!" the white cat wailed helplessly, even though she knew there was nothing anyone could do at this point. Within a minute, the forest was greeted by one little kit. He was a dark brown tom, just like his father. The next one was a beautiful, white she-cat with blue eyes, much like her mother. And the last one…

The white she-cat let out a caterwaul of pain. She felt as though her whole body was going to fall apart, and she was gradually slipping out of consciousness. But she knew she couldn't give up now—there was one kit still to be born. With one final push, and a last cry, the mother never got to see her final kit, as she closed her eyes for the last time.

The tom pressed his nose to the white she-cat's and whispered, "I love you, Snowfur." He sat like that for a few moments, tears wetting the fur around his eyes, and grieved. Hen Pineleaf let out a gasp, he looked up and meowed:

"A black cat?But how?" Before him, there was a tiny black kit, wiggling its way over to his father. Dogwood began to lick it cautiously as it purred softly. He still wondered all the time how it could have been possible.

"What shall you name them?" Pinelead asked. Dogwood looked up, and thought for a moment.

"This one," he meowed, pointing to the brown tom, "will be Chesnutkit." He then pointed to the white one. "This one, Snowkit, in honor of her mother." Then he looked down at the little black kit in between his paws. "And this one… Bloodkit."