•Whitestorm•
Whitestorm could feel his heart lay heavily down, cold and drowning, forced by the swift icy water, breezes that pushed held him to a death that he was forsakened to. "I'm not big in your life, am I?" He yowled, pain in his meow. The storm-furred she-cat only looked at him, her green eyes glazed over. Horror struck through his white body, like a lighting bolt. "Whitestorm..." The she-cat meowed, but the tom turned away, yellow eyes full of pain. Thoughts began to hit his mind, cold claws raking against his drowning heart. He barely noticed the paw-steps of the she-cat, her green gaze hidden, and wrapped in warm silk, even though inside, a freezing fate greeted all. "Whitestorm, wait!" She wailed, trying to catch up. Whitestorm looked back at the she-cat, love piercing in his thunder-colored eyes. "...I love you." She whispered, dipping her head to the senior warrior. "Brindle... Brindleface." He wailed, padding over to her. "I want you to father these kits." She meowed, looking up, her fur staying still, yet waves of worry shocked and bolted in her eyes. " Whitestorm, you can take all you want from me, and hit me with so much pain, knowing the true father. But all I want is a promise. A promise you will love and father these kits." He was about to speak, but the queen raised her tail to silence him. " It's already over for me. Take all you want. But these kits are innocent. " "... Does Thistleclaw know?" "...Yes. When I was on the patrol with him, I asked to talk to him alone. I told him then. Right after the battle, he died, knowing he is the father of these kits." Whitestorm looked at her. She was young, yet had a warm heart. And that heart was taken by claws of blood, and kits would be born. "Brindleface." "Yes?" "You have a promise." He meowed, then turned his back on the she-cat for the last time. His father had taken another mate, and no one knew. Now, he would have half-siblings that he would father. Eyes wide, he knew this was a secret that would be buried deep, crushed by stones.
Many moons passed after that. Whitestorm took Willowpelt as a mate, and Brindleface's kits were born. None of them had his eyes. Only the kits knew that their father was Whitestorm; and not Thistleclaw. At least, that's what they thought. The rest of the cats never knew the father, or the cat who took them as his kits and acted as he father. Rainkit, Sootkit, and Sorrelkit was born shortly after. Then, he had his life ripped out by the blood-thirsty deputy of Bloodclan, Bone. He was avenged, but his spirit is still crushed by Brindleface's choice of Thistleclaw, and not him. Whenever he sees Ashfur and Ferncloud, his heart is ripped again, again, and again. His eyes seem to flood with pain and suffering.