Sparkpelt numbly watched as the sun rose, dreading the rest of her litter waking to discover their sister dead. She gently picked up the tiny body, laying it in the shaded area of the garden where Sparrowkit had loved to explore. A voice interrupted her as she marked where the grave was to go.

"Mama, why's Sparrowkit still asleep?"

Tears sprang to her eyes as she addressed Alderkit. "She's – she's with StarClan now."

Alderkit nodded, then stiffened.

"Isn't StarClan where spirits go?"

"It is. She didn't wake up last night." Now she was full – on sobbing. Through her blurring eyes she could see the forms of Bramblekit and Copperkit, who both were looking on in horror.

The kits stood, until Bramblekit wailed, his two littermates joining him. She nuzzled them briefly before going to dig Sparrowkit's grave.

She was halfway done before the female Twoleg noticed her. She gave out a yowl of horror as she stared at the body, disappearing into the nest and returning with a shiny object. With the Twoleg's help, the grave was dug, and Sparkpelt lowered her kit into it. The Twoleg covered up the grave, adding a flat pebble, which she marked with a stick that produced what seemed like a liquid form of the burns seen on lightning-struck trees. The two stood back before Sparkpelt grabbed a young flower, uprooting it and placing it where Sparrowkit lay, roots in the earth. She then went over to her living kits, watching the Twoleg, who oddly seemed as sad as she was. Sparkpelt stood in morbid wonder before moving the kits back inside. She dipped her head to the Twoleg when she went, before watching over her kits.

There was no play from the usually – rambunctious kits today; although their sister rarely joined in, she was still their sister.

Two days after she buried Sparrowkit, Sparkpelt risked peeking over the fence, to see Blossomfall again.

Blossomfall, after a furtive glance to make sure that there were no Twolegs around, bounded up to her.

"Hi, Sparkpelt!"

"Hey, Blossomfall." She was dimly shocked at how worn her voice sounded as she greeted the older warrior. Being the liaison between the two worlds had definitely strengthened their bond, so Blossomfall noted it too.

"What happened? Hopefully my news can cheer you up."

"Sparrowkit died." Her voice sounded raw, most likely from sitting in silence with her remaining three.

Blossomfall seemed to deflate, eyes downcast. "So young…" she intoned, looking both at the younger warrior and the kits down on the rise before the lake. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Go on, then. What's your news?"

"I'm pregnant."

Sparkpelt felt a flash of bitterness. How could she gain when she'd just lost a kit? She suppressed it ruthlessly – her friend hadn't known before now, couldn't control her pregnancy.

"That's great! More healthy warriors for the Clans, I'm sure."

Her friend let out a small purr, looking down at the kits gathered.

"Maybe they can play together once they're older."

"Perhaps." Sparkpelt told her friend. A yowl come from a nest.

"I have to go."

"Bye, Blossomfall." She picked up her kits – two on her back, one in her mouth – and set off for her nest.