Willowpaw and Fleck sat at the back of the cardboard home Sol lived in. It was damp and stunk of dirt, but Willowpaw ignored that as she watched the large tom eat a nice, freshly-plump mouse. His tail flicked as he glanced up at the two, then went back to chewing on his meal.

Beside the apprentice, she could feel Fleck shivering in the cold air. "It's cold, and I'm hungry," He complained softly.

Instead of snapping at him, she quietly nodded in agreement. "I know, me too."

For a few moments, she noticed the tom not move his jaws, but his ears flickered back and forth as if listening for something. His tail stopped twitching and his eyes twinkled in the light of the moon above. Fleck was noticing as well, and stopped shivering, his own ears moving. It was then that Willowpaw realized another scent was coming close.

Sol's ears moved quickly, and he sat up, his narrowed eyes searching the dark. "Snowy," He meowed softly, flicking his tail in greeting. His amber eyes flashed back at the two cats in his box, and they shuddered beneath his gaze. He turned back to Snowy and nodded.

"Smells like you have forest cats in there with you," A soft, younger voice sounded, and Fleck gave a quick gasp as he heard.

Sol chuckled. "Just one. The other's that nosey little kit of yours, Fleck."

Willowpaw glanced down at the kittypet beside her and gave a puzzled stare, but he didn't meet eyes with her as he glanced back down at his paws.

"So, you've decided to take hostages, have you now Sol?"

"No, I just found them and they looked like they needed a place to stay. Come on out," His amber gaze fell back on the two young cats, and they both slowly crept out of the box.

Willowpaw's eyes fell upon a pure white she-cat with long fur, looking a lot like the she-cat she had met earlier, except with dark green eyes instead of bright blue. Her gaze met with Willowpaw's own, then lowered down to Fleck's, who kept his eyes down at his paws.

"I see you're doing well, Fleck," She meowed.

The young tom nodded silently and didn't look up. His mother nodded and looked back at Willowpaw. "And who are you?"

The apprentice flicked her tail nervously, noticing a darker stain on the she-cat's paws. "My name's Willowpaw."

"Willowpaw," The older she-cat repeated with a deep sneer in her voice. "Such silly names those cats choose for their kits. But if you must keep it, then do so." She meowed, as though Willowpaw had a choice to keep the name or not.

Sol padded around the apprentice, his fur brushing against hers in a most uncomfortable way. "Yes, well, Fleck was just saying goodbye, weren't you Fleck?"

The little cat stared at the large tom, but Snowy nodded the answer for him. "Yes. Come along Fleck. You don't need to be spending your time around such cats as this creature." Her voice would have stung Willowpaw, but the gray cat's mind was set on her friend being dragged away. The little tom didn't look around to say goodbye as his mother picked him up by his scruff and carried him off back away from the alley.

"So what Clan are you from?" The wind was still blowing hard outside as Barktail across the den from Tadpole, who was digging up a piece of fresh-kill he had saved for the weather.

The dark tabby yawned. "Well, it's a long story, but I was born a rogue, raised a WindClan warrior, left with my sister to start our own Clan, SnowClan, and then left that to become deputy of a Clan called FireClan. Now I guess I'm back to being a rogue," She laughed a little at her comment, but ended up coughing harshly again. Once she had finished, she saw Tadpole had placed a cold, plump mouse at her paws.

"Sorry, it's the last one I had," He meowed as he padded back to his nest and lay in it. "So you've been through alot, huh? Guess I can't relate. I've been a rogue my entire life."

Barktail nodded, but then thought back to what her mother had told of Tadpole. Hadn't he died of drowning, or had she lied about losing him? She gave a long sigh and bit into the mouse, chewing it softly and swallowing hard. The black tom shook his fur as he curled up again and nodded.

"I just wish I could have told my mother I was still alive." He murmured to himself quietly. Barktail stared at him from where she was. How strange it was to meet a cat once thought dead, yet was completely alive in front of her.

"She misses you terribly," Barktail commented softly, her eyes lowering to the ground.

Tadpole raised his head and gave a puzzled stare. "What do you mean? Did you meet her?"

Barktail breathed in. "Yes. She… she's my mother too. Or was," Her mind raced back to the terrible fire from when she was kit.

"No, she can't be." Tadpole growled at her. "You're lying. I never even told you who my mother was."

"But she told me who you were, Tadpole, you and Moth and Hawk. She spoke of you quite often to me and my sister." She meowed carefully.

Tadpole stared deep into her eyes. "You're the daughter of Sasha too?"

Barktail nodded, and her brother breathed in a shaky breath. "How can that be? How could she have two more kits and not tell us?"

"Because we were born moons after you."

"So," He meowed softly. "I have two more sisters I never even knew about."

The air still in the early morning above SnowClan camp. It had snowed the night before, making the ground a pure white. The cats were stuck in their dens for now, except for Blackstripes and a few friends of Snowstar. Inside the nursery, the new queen was giving birth to her first litter of kits.

Silverpelt had sent Sweetheart out to get a stick, and now was at the side of her best friend, calming her and soothing her pain. In the belly of Snowstar, four kits wriggled helplessly, and the Clan anticipated the arrival of the soon-to-be new Clanmates.

"Don't push until I tell you, alright?" Silverpelt instructed Snowstar as the queen breathed in deep, quick breaths. She could feel waves of pain pass through her, and beneath her fur sweat built up and make her pelt slick and shiny. In her jaws, a thick, cold stick sat clamped down on already.

"Now!" At the command, Snowstar heaved, her jaws biting hard on the stick and almost snapping it in half. A few moments later, a small mew sounded, and she felt a kit wriggling at her side. The leader wished to lick the kit, but Sweetheart had taken care of that, and she had three more kits to go.

After three mores pushes, four kits squeaked at her side, each in it's own unique way. She couldn't believe she had given birth to such creatures, but she loved them either way. Beside her now sat Blackstripes, who admired the kits with the same love as his mate. His mind barely reached back to the thoughts of his son and daughter at FireClan, and he kept it that way as he looked back at the new mother.

"What will we name them?" He asked.

The striped queen was still tired from the birthing, but she managed to speak. "The black and white tom, I was thinking Longkit." Her mate nodded in agreement and took the time to think on the brown tabby she-kit. The little cat reminded him of Barktail, and he breathed in heavily.

"How about Mudkit for the brown she-kit?" He meowed. "After my brother."

Snowstar gave a slight grin and moved to the sandy-brown tom. "How about Brownkit, after my mother's first name? And maybe Shadekit for the last tom?" Her tail reached over to the little black tom at the end.

Blackstripes gave his mate a light on her cheek. "They're all lovely."

Together, the two coddled over their kits happily.