Chapter one
The Beginning
Howls of pain split the air as a she-cat labored to give birth. Four little mewing bundles lay by her side as she panted from the effort. A large white tom with red tabby markings was tense with stress at her side. With a final scream from the brown tabby the runt of the litter was born.
Exhausted, the mother looked down at her new kin. All she-kits, four noisy little kits. And one that was close to silent. It worried both of them that a kit should be so quiet. It seemed a kit so quiet would have to be dead, yet her tiny little sides showed that she was breathing.
She seemed almost peaceful. With her unusual honey colored tabby coat, she was the runt of the litter, no bigger than a large mouse. She opened her mouth and let out a soft mew that sounded like she was whispering. The other kits seemed to calm at the sound.
Her father backed away at the sound seeming to distrust this small new life more by the second. While her mother let out a cry of joy at hearing her smallest speak. Looking up her mother gazed in surprise at her mate, wondering what he was doing at the other side of the den.
With a flick of her tail she asked, "You wouldn't be afraid of your own daughter now would you Scarletriver."He looked like he was about to say something before he noticed the teasing glint in her eyes. She seemed very amused at the thought.
"Of coarse not! You know I would never be afraid of newborn! So stop looking at me like that Windcry!" He seemed offended. But knowing Scarletriver as she did Windcry could tell that he was hiding something.
"Then come over here and help me name your daughters. Unless you really are scared..." Just as she knew he would Scarletriver bristled at the dare. He made a big show of strolling over to her and peering down at the kits.
He looked at the first-born and announced , " She looks like she has ice and snow on her fur!" She had light gray fur with a blueish sheen. Tiny white paws and stomach made it seem like she had just been playing in the snow.
Windcry stared at her for a minute and said slowly, " How about Winterkit, I've always been fond of the seasons and three of her sisters fit with the other three." And they did for one of the three middle kits had a yellow and ginger coat that looked similar to fallen leaves. While another middle kit was brown and had splotches of white and ginger that could have looked like the wild flowers in the spring.
The last middle sibling had brown fur with a yellow chest and gray forehead. Since the year wouldn't be complete without a summer, Windcry reasoned, her name would be Summerkit. And so she turned to her final kit.
The honey colored tabby was just as quiet as before. She almost seemed expectant. With a hushed tone Scarletriver spoke, startling Windcry. " Whisperkit," the name ran through the cave, echoing back with an eerie sound. And so the runt of this large litter was named.