A reddish tom waited by the river creek, hearing the roar of the water. Droplets sprayed onto his whiskers, slowly sliding off. The tom, barely bothered, kept his blazing green eyes ahead. Overhead, the bright white moon dimly lit the forest beyond. Any time now...

Finally, a fluffy white she-cat bounced out of the bushes. Her sleek fur was plastered to her side, covered in the mangled branches. Her yellow tag sparkled in the moonlight, proving herself to be a kittypet. She approached the tom without fear, slowly crossing the stepping stones which led her across the river.

"You're late," the tom mewed. "You started to make me concerned..."

"My twolegs would not let me go that early, tonight." The white she-cat pressed a paw to her swelling belly. Kits, the tom thought, knowing that most queens would think of their kits with that same wondrous look in their eyes.

"You're...expecting kits?" The tom asked, dumbfounded.

The she-cat was quick to nod her head. "Yours," she said with a purr. "My twolegs seem to share my own concern. They always take me to the cutter to check up on them, to see if they're well. It's quite scary, if you ask me..."

The tom tilted his head. While medicine cats would always check up on queens to ensure that their kits were safe, he had always heard of the cutter doing bad things to kittypets. Making them fat, lazy, less...wild. Of their claws being removed, given foul smelling tablets, or worse. But could a cutter really want to help a cat? "You could always come to RiverClan, if you wanted. You'd be safe here. I'd ensure that they'd treat you well. Better than any twoleg..."

The she-cat wrinkled her nose. "My housefolk treat me nicely. I would never want to leave them, like you would never want to leave your Clan. They provide for me, they give me shelter, they give me love. Asking me to leave would be the same as me asking you to leave your own Clan, something you would never do."

That was the one thing the two cats could never agree on. Being raised in RiverClan, the tom had a bitter hatred of twolegs and even kittypets, at one point. Twolegs prevented kittypets from being free, and kittypets were willing to just accept that. How could any-cat be that lazy? How could any-cat sacrifice their freedom for an easy meal?

Instead of continuing the topic, the tom decided to switch the direction of the conversation. "Speaking of kits...where would they even live?" He inquired. The kits were half-kittypet, half-RiverClan, trapped between two worlds. Although the tom knew that RiverClan would have a hard time of accepting his kits, he was hopeful that it would be one day possible.

"Well, with me of course," the she-cat replied. "I am their mother, after all. They need my milk, and most she-cats raise their kits anyways. At least, it is like that in twolegplace." She decided to leave off that most she-cats eventually lose their kits, their twolegs giving them away. Surely her own housefolk would not be that cruel?

The tom shook his head, already knowing what happened to most kittypet's kits. "No, they can't. Your twolegs will take them. We'll lose them forever!"

"My housefolk are not that cruel, and kits rightfully belong with their mothers. I'm sure your Clanmates would agree," she retorted with a glare. Her own love for her cats exceeded that of the tom. If she had to chose, it would always be these unknown kits in the end. And their fights over the previous couple meetings did not help that fact...

The tom stammered, struggling for words. "You do not know what your twolegs will do. The kits will be safer in RiverClan, I'll be sure of that. And if you really want to be with them, you can always come to Riv-"

She cut him off. "I am no Clan cat, Foxcry, and I never will be. These kits are mine, and they always will be."

Before Foxcry could speak another word, the she-cat turned away, crossing the stepping stones and disappearing into the inky darkness of night.