A/N: So, I looked really hard to find out the lineage. And, apparently, Brindleface, Frostfur, Dustpelt, Ravenpaw, and Longtail all share Robinwing as a mother. However, Longtail's father is actually Patchpelt. Unfortunately, nowhere could it tell me when Longtail was born and if he was older than Brindleface. So, I decided for myself. Longtail was born between Brindleface&Frostfur and Dustpelt&Graystripe. So, Robinwing mated with Patchpelt for some reason briefly, then went back to Fuzzypelt. Probs some sort of drama, but I'm not gonna make anything up cause Dustpelt never finds out. lol
ENJOY! :)
The rasping of his mother's tongue gently on his ear woke Dustkit. She was laid on her side, her tail curled neatly around her hindpaws and her eyes half-closed with content. With a tiny yawn, Dustkit stood up, shaking his mother's gentle bathing and stretched out his little paws. Robinwing did not seem to mind, instead she simply shifted her attention to his littermate - Ravenkit - who welcomed their mother's cleaning with a tiny purr. Dustkit stared at Ravenkit in disgust. He's such a wimp, he thought to himself, then turned and slipped out of the nursery. His mother's call to stay nearby barely made it to his ears, and he flicked his tail briefly to show he understood. Outside, the camp was already active. Bluestar was sitting below the High Rock, her tail laid out behind her, the tip flicking as she watched. Redtail, the deputy, was sat in the middle of the clearing, organizing Sunhigh patrols. To Dustkit's right, he saw Brindleface lounging with her sister, Frostfur, as the two watched Sandkit tumble around in the dirt, playing with a leaf.
Flicking his ear playfully, Dustkit dropped into a crouch, stalking across the clearing towards the unsuspecting Sandkit. She had just pinned down the leaf again when Dustkit sprung up and tackled her. The ginger she-kit let out a squeal of surprise and twisted to fight back at her attacker, already knowing who it was. Dustkit growled with amusement, nipping at her muzzle and then leaping away as she tried to bat at his head. The two kits narrowed their eyes and began circling one another, their gazes glinting with playfulness and their tails lashing at the playfight. Before either one could attack, Brindleface appeared between them, purring.
"Growing into fine warriors already," she commented, giving Sandkit a brisk lick. "Listen. I'm going out to stretch my legs, you two stay where Frostfur can see you, alright?"
"Sure, Brindleface," Dustkit replied.
"Good. Be good, kits," she meowed over her shoulder as she went to join Redtail in the clearing. Dustkit watched as the two exchanged a few words, and then Brindleface trotted out of camp alone. While he was distracted, Sandkit had slipped up beside him and a mischievous glint entered her eyes. She glanced back at Frostfur, then back to Dustkit.
"Let's go exploring!" she insisted eagerly.
"Brindleface said-"
"Oh, come on! We won't go far." Sandkit promised.
"I don't know-"
"What? You scared, Dustkit?" she mocked, and Dustkit's eyes flashed with annoyance.
"Of course not, you brat! I'm not scared of anything!"
"That's settled then!" Sandkit mewed, satisfaction entering her gaze at the easy persuasion of her denmate.
The two kits turned to look at Frostfur, who was watching them with her eyes narrowed suspiciously. When she caught their gazes, her tail beckoned them forward, and they bounded over to her without complaint. The white she-cat's blue eyes raked over them, as if she thought their pelts would give away all their secrets.
"What are you two whispering about over there?" she demanded. "Not trying to sneak off, are you?"
"No!" Sandkit lied, holding her head up defiantly. Frostfur looked unconvinced, but before she could say anything else, one of the Whitestorm approached and mewed a greeting to her. Momentarily distracted, Frostfur turned her penetrating gaze from the kits to the warrior. With her no longer watching, the two kits exchanged pleased glances, and slipped away from the two cats and disappeared behind the nursery. Before they had a chance to go any further than the dirt place behind the nursery, another small voice called them back. Dustkit let out a sigh and turned to face his brother, Ravenkit, who had obviously followed them. His eyes were glowing with curiosity.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Away from you," Sandkit sneered. Ravenkit seemed unbothered by her tone, instead he stared straight at Dustkit - who felt uneasy under the gaze of his brother. No matter how much he disliked the black tom, it was always hard to lie to him or be nasty like Sandkit. Especially since he knew Ravenkit would run straight to Robinwing and snitch.
"We aren't going anywhere," he told the other kit reluctantly, looking at Sandkit. The taunting look in her eyes made his fur hot with anger, but he couldn't go anywhere now, thanks to his stupid brother. "Come on, let's get back before Frostfur worries."
"Coward," Sandkit hissed in his ear as he padded after Ravenkit back into the clearing. Waiting for them there was Frostfur, her tail twitching in irritation, her eyes fierce. Dustkit's tail drooped low to the ground and his ears flattened. They were definitely in big trouble. The only thing that made him feel better was seeing Sandkit in the same, submissive position he was in, her eyes on the ground instead of up at the angry she-cat.
"What did Brindleface tell you?" Frostfur hissed, giving each kit a hard cuff around their ears. "What if a fox had gotten hold of you? What if you had gotten lost?"
"We're sorry, Frostfur-"
"I don't want an apology!" Frostfur snapped. "I want you to think next time you decide to go traipsing the forest alone. You'll never make it to warriors acting like that! You're almost apprentices, and the clan expects you to act with more sense."
"We didn't even get anywhere!" Dustkit suddenly insisted, his head raising and his tail bristling. "That dumb Ravenkit caught us before we even got out of camp!"
"Mind your tongue," Robinwing interrupted before Frostfur could, glaring at Dustkit with disappointment. "Don't speak of your brother that way. I want you in the nursery, now."
"Yes, Mother," Dustkit muttered bitterly, shoving past Sandkit with a glare at her and entering the nursery. Inside, it took him a moment to adjust to the darkness, but he found his nest relatively easily. Across from them, Willowpelt lay, her belly swollen with kits, dozing. When he started digging around in the moss to settle down comfortably, her eyes opened slowly and she let out a small mrrw of laughter.
"Causing more trouble, Dustkit?" she asked, but Dustkit ignored her, turning his back and laying with his head on his paws, eyes closed. Eventually, the sound of others entering the nursery told him that it was nearing time for sleep. Robinwing entered with Ravenkit, the smell of fresh-kill following her, but Dustkit ignored them as well, keeping his eyes tight shut and pretending to be asleep. When his mother tried to rouse him, he ignored her, hearing her sigh and whisper softly to Ravenkit.
...
Dustkit had obviously dozed off at some point, listening to the soft sounds of the nursery, because he was awakened violently when a howling started up across from him. Willowpelt was kitting. Robinwing and Brindleface were already at their fellow queen by the time Dustkit joined the other two kits at the back, whispering encouragement to her and smoothing her fur with gentle strokes of their tails. Not long after, Spottedleaf was rushing into the den, her tortoiseshell pelt glistening in the small rays of moonlight that filtered into the den. Dustkit couldn't help but to admire her as she worked, her voice was low and gentle despite the anxious and rude words that came from Willowpelt's mouth. By the time Spottedleaf let out a soft sigh of success and backed away, the sun was crawling up in the sky, giving them more light to see the one bundle suckling at Willowpelt's stomach, the tiny claws kneading her impatiently.
"Just one?" Robinwing murmured. Once Spottedleaf had entered, the two other Queens had backed off, settling themselves beside their kits, and now whispered together with sadness.
"Poor Willowpelt," Brindleface sighed, knowing too well what it was like to have only one kit survive of a litter.
"She'll just have to love that one better than ever," Robinwing went on firmly, eyeing the queen and her new kit, and her gaze softened. "He's so sweet."
"And perfectly healthy," Spottedleaf purred, coming to join the two queens briefly, her eyes shining. "Willowpelt should be proud, she did well,"
"Should we tell Patchpelt?" Brindleface asked hesitantly, glancing awkwardly at Robinwing, who had tensed slightly. Her shoulders relaxed, but there was still bitterness in her gaze.
"Of course, it is his kit," she muttered, then turned to her own two kits, who were still staring at the new bundle in Willowpelt's nest, and ushered them back to their own nest. "Stay here, you two, I'll fetch something to eat."
Dustkit watched his mother leave - followed by Spottedleaf and Brindleface - then bounded out of his nest, inching closer to Willowpelt. Her eyes were focused only on the kit suckling at her belly, shining with love and pride already. Dustkit examined his new denmate, surprised at how big he was. From what he'd heard from his mother and the other Queens, kits were usually terribly small for the first couple of days of their lives. Robinwing made it a point on bringing up Dustkit's unusual smallness whenever she bragged about him, claiming he'd grown a lot. Looking at this kit, Dustkit had to imagine what a big warrior he'd be. He took another step forward, and his paw brushed against a fallen twig and Willowpelt's head snapped up, narrowing fiercely to protect her newborn. When she realized it was only Dustkit, her intensity lessened and she beckoned with her tail for him to come closer.
"It's okay. Come meet him,"
"But doesn't he need to grow stronger first?" Dustkit wondered, watching the grey kit with slight worry.
"You can still meet him, just be gentle," she whispered, nosing Dustkit into the nest and closer.
Dustkit sniffed the kit cautiously, jumping back when the grey head swung around and the kit let out a wail of surprise. Willowpelt purred in amusement, giving the kit a soft lick and urging him back to her teat before turning her gaze to Dustkit again, eyes sparkling with silent encouragement. Dustkit took a cautious step forward and sniffed the kit again. He smelled of fresh milk and had the same scent as Willowpelt.
"He smells just like you!" Dustkit exclaimed, eyes widening slightly. Though he knew that cats smelled of their mothers their entire lives - Brindleface still had the slightest whiff of Robinwing on her fur sometimes - usually it was mingled in with each cat's individual one. But this new kit didn't have any scent but Willowpelt's.
"Yes, he does. For now," she replied softly. Dustkit fell silent and watched in awe as the kit suckled. He had never seen a newborn kit before, being the same age as all the other kits, and seeing something so helpless was something strange. He couldn't imagine that little fluff of fur ever being strong enough to take down another warrior in battle, or dragging a huge rabbit home for eating. Then again, he knew that all kits were born like this - helpless and weak - even himself. It was still very strange to see. While he thought of this, Willowpelt had settled down with her head on the edge of the nest, her eyes closing halfway. She must be tired, Dustkit thought to himself. It felt like it took her a moon to kit! But, though he knew she must want to sleep, he couldn't stop his growing curiosity.
"Willowpelt?" the she-cat started slightly, but she had nothing but content in her eyes when she looked at him again. "What's its name?"
"His name is Graykit."
"Oh." Dustkit mewed. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Robinwing returned at that moment and interrupted him.
"Dustkit, come and leave Willowpelt alone. She needs to rest,"
"Yes, Mother." Dustkit mewed back, slinking from the nest and back over to his mother. She greeted him with a happy lick and moved aside to let him get at the fresh vole she had brought them to share. Ravenkit was already eating, taking small bites and chewing enthusiastically. They had only just started eating fresh-kill a moon ago, and the taste was still new to both of them. This was the first vole they'd ever had. Moving to settle in beside his brother, Dustkit began to eat as well. When they had finished, the two left the nursery together. Dustkit grabbed at Ravenkit's tail, and the black kit growled playfully, leaping onto his brother. The two tussled on the ground for a few moments, before Dustkit finally ended up on top, pinning Ravenkit down by his neck.
"You can never beat me! I am the mighty Duststar! Leader of Thunderclan and the fiercest warrior in the whole forest!"
"That's quite ambitious, little one," an older voice replied, and Dustkit looked up to see the ruffled, black pelt of his father, who had come up while they were playing. Dustkit scrambled off of his brother, allowing Ravenkit to get to his paws, then looked at Fuzzypelt with excitement. Their father rarely visited them in the nursery anymore, more distracted with patrols and hunting to come and visit them. It wasn't often he was seen with Robinwing either, and when the two did appear together, there was much tension.
"Did you see how I pinned him, Father?" Dustkit meowed eagerly, bouncing on his paws.
"Yes, Dustkit, I did. Very good, both of you!" Both kits eyes glowed at their father's praise. Before anymore could be discussed, however, Bluestar called for Fuzzypelt from under the High Rock. She was surrounded by Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, Whitestorm, and Patchpelt. Regret at the interruption with his sons clouded his eyes, but he gave them both a lick farewell, and padded away. Dustkit frowned, watching Fuzzypelt as he and the others followed Bluestar into her den.
"He never gets to hang out with us!" Ravenkit wailed. "It's not fair!"
"I know," Dustkit hissed, clawing at the dirt. "When I become a warrior, I'll never have kits, not for anything!"
"Not, Dustkit, don't say such a thing!" Robinwing gasped, appearing behind her two kits.
"But I won't. I really mean it!" Dustkit vowed.
"Why not?" Robinwing scolded, sitting down and drawing both toms closer to her. "Having kits is good for the clan, and it doesn't do much harm for the parents, either."
"But, what good is it having kits if I won't ever get to speak with them?"
"Yeah!" Ravenkit agreed, but said no more, just stared up at their mother wonderingly, as though he were genuinely curious and not angry. Dustkit couldn't help but to sneer at his brother. Sometimes, it was easy to get along with him, but other times, the kit was just plain stupid. Robinwing just sighed, her gaze going from one kit to the other, a soft expression there.
"You'll understand when you are older. Besides," she crouched down and purred softly. "If the cat you love wants kits, you'll do it for them,"
"I won't fall in love. Love is for cats who are weak," Dustkit mewed scornfully, lashing his tail once. Robinwing looked at him carefully, peering right into his eyes, as if she were looking for something important, then she purred again and stood up straight.
"We'll see," and then she padded away to talk with Frostfur, who was eating by the warriors den, leaving Dustkit confused and bitter.