True to her word, Birchcloud checked the weather first thing in the morning. She frowned slightly, turning to face her kits.
"Can we play, Mother?" asked Sunkit, green eyes wide.
"Please, Mother, I can't breathe in here!" pleaded Stormkit.
"Mother, I'm so bored!" Ravenkit cried. All three kits, as though by some mutually understanding, turned their wide-eyed gazes to their mother.
"Please?" they whined in perfect unison. "Please, please, please, please, please?"
Flustered, Birchcloud pursed her lips. She smiled sadly. "Well, it's not raining too hard… Why not? Just stay where I can see you. And don't pester the warriors!"
But that last bit was lost on the excited kits as the bolted from the nursery, squealing in excitement. They tumbled over each other into the drizzle, shivering when they noticed that their pelts were already soaked through.
Ravenkit shivered. "Gosh, it really is cold and rainy out. I can feel it in my marrow!"
Sunkit and Stormkit agreed with nods. "Yeah, but that just makes it more fun!" cried Sunkit as she leapt on Ravenkit. Ravenkit shrieked with delight, rolling over in the mud. Ravenkit giggled, batting at her belly with soft kit paws.
"I am Stormstar, leader of Thunderclan!" proclaimed Stormkit proudly, chest puffed out. "Which of you is a more loyal deputy? I challenge you to find the moss ball!"
Ravenkit grinned at Sunkit, preparing to take off.
"On your marks…"
"I'm gonna find it first," Sunkit said with a smirk.
"Get set…"
"No way!"
"Yes way!"
"GO!" And they were off! A black ball of sopping wet fur shot through camp, skittering around warriors. A golden one followed, zipping in and out of dens.
Stormkit laughed, watching his siblings hunt the moss ball he had hidden while they had fought. "Getting colder!" he cried as the kits reached the elder's den on the other side of camp.
"You kits had better head inside," Greenear said worriedly. The elder frowned at the sopping kits, pursing her lips.
"Huh?" Poppyice asked, unable to hear.
"Oh, let them play," grumbled Tallstripe. "They only have so long before their joints ache like mine do. This storm is doing awful things to my bones; why just the other day-"
"Give it a rest," Greenear cried. "All you do is complain!"
"I do not!" Sunkit and Ravenkit slowly backed away, careful not to draw any attention to themselves in case the elders decided to give them a long-winded explanation for their aching bones.
Scampering throughout camp, the sisters giggled and laughed as they searched for the ever-elusive moss ball.
They dodged pawsteps and angry grumbles as cats shook water from their pelts and returned to Stormkit, who hadn't moved an inch since they left. Ravenkit regarded him carefully. He was hiding something!
"I found it!" she squealed as she skidded to a stop next to her brother, Sunkit not far behind. "I know where you hid the moss ball!"
"Nuh-uh," Stormkit argued, sticking out his tongue. "You don't have it!"
"Yeah-huh," Ravenkit replied, bowling her brother over. "It's…right…" Ravenkit and Stormkit tussled for control of the squashed moss ball, neither gaining the upper hand. Claws sheathed, Ravenkit held on to Stormkit's tail, preventing him from retrieving his moss ball and re-hiding it.
"…here!" Sunkit yowled triumphantly. "I found it first!" The moss ball lay at her paws, a huge grin across her face. "I win!"
Ravenkit was crestfallen. "No fair," she whined, "I found it! You stole it!"
But Sunkit just laughed. "I won, Ravenkit! And now I get to pick the game: she-cats versus toms! Ravenkit and I will be Thunderclan, Stormkit, you can be Windclan!"
"Windclan's gross!" cried Stormkit indignantly.
"Too bad, so sad," taunted Sunkit. "I'll be Sunstar, and this is my deputy, Ravenpelt."
"Fine," Stormkit grumbled, "I'll be Stormstar." He crouched low to the ground, waving his tail back and forth.
Sunkit snarled, laughter in her eyes. "Go, Ravenpelt! Attack!" Ravenkit giggled, throwing herself on her brother. He landed with a soft oof, the wind knocked out of him. Ravenkit grinned, swiping at his ears and cuffing them gently. Stormkit cried out in mock pain as Sunkit grabbed his tail and started to drag him around in the dirt.
Ravenkit rolled over laughing, her stomach clenching with almost painful guffaws. Stormkit shrieked at the indignity, trying to escape. To prevent this, Ravenkit sat on his head, forcing him to cry out around a mouthful of her, well, hindquarters.
He eventually succeeded in pushing the black kit off, gulping in the fresh, rainy air. Sunkit gave Ravenkit a feral grin, covering their brother in tickles. Stormkit squirmed, laughing merrily and crying at the same time. Thinking this especially humorous, Sunkit batted at his stomach with soft kitten paws.
On and on they went, squealing and rolling around the camp, having the best time of their lives. They were covered with an inch of mud, to Birchcloud's horror, and had successfully bumped into everything within the camp, living or not. But even the grumpiest warrior looked on fondly at the romping kits, remembering the devastation that they had been born into.
When the sun was beginning to set, and the rain was coming down harder, the kits re-entered the nursery. Chilled to the marrow of their bones, the kits were all too happy to curl up next to Birchcloud and sleep.
Unfortunately, Stormkit kept them all awake with a ceaseless cough, and his shivering awoke them when his coughing failed. Worried, Birchcloud tried to comfort her only son, but to no avail. She called for Whisperfur when the moon was still young, and she diagnosed it as a simple cough; persistent yet harmless.
"No more playing in the rain," Birchcloud said firmly to the sisters. "Look what it did to Stormkit. I should have known better than to let you rascals out there when it's so cold. What was I thinking?"
Disappointed and bored, Sunkit and Ravenkit found plenty of ways to get into trouble, from batting around a moss ball to pouncing on Pondkit, Antkit, and Creektail. They dug holes in the ground around the nests, destroyed bedding, and tussled.
Creektail's voice was hoarse from yowling at them to quit, but the kits were full of limitless energy, and couldn't sit still at all. Birchcloud was weary, and had grown tired of watching her beautiful kits get into mischief.
"How about a story?" she asked, holding back a yawn.
"Story?" The two kits ran to their mother from their freshly dug hole, paws covered in dirt. They curled up together with a still-sick Stormkit, ready to listen.
"How about the story of Graystripe and Silverstream?"
"Yeah!"
"Alright, it starts in Thunderclan. Firepaw, who you remember is Rusty, saw Graypaw sneak out of camp, so he followed. He saw his best friend meet up with a Riverclan she-cat, Silverpaw, whom had saved him from drowning earlier. Firepaw told Graypaw, no, that he couldn't keep meeting her, but Graypaw was determined. When Firepaw and Graypaw became Fireheart and Graystripe, Silverpaw became Silverstream. They continued to meet in secret, Fireheart covering for them. One day, a terrible scream arose from the forest. Fireheart raced to the spot. Silverstream was having kits on Thunderclan territory, a very worried Graystripe with her. Fireheart raced back for Yellowfang, but she was out. Cinderpaw, Fireheart's old apprentice, came instead. She tried to save the beautiful Silverstream, but she could not, even with the wretched Tigerclaw watching over her, as he had been attracted by the commotion. Silverstream gave birth to two kits, Stormkit and Featherkit, before she died with Graystripe. The young warrior was devastated, his love lost. He ended up joining Riverclan to be with his kits, but returned to Thunderclan when he realized where he really belonged."
"Am I Graystripe's kit?" asked Stormkit, coughing feebly.
Birchcloud laughed, and got a sad look in her eye as she gazed off into the distance. "No, you're not."
"Then who's my father?"
Birchcloud gave her son a sharp look. "That's not for you to know yet," she snapped, anger flashing in her eyes. Sunkit and Ravenkit, although they hadn't mention their father, jumped back, startled. Stormkit shrank into himself, still coughing quietly to himself.
"Someday, you'll understand, my kits," Birchcloud promised, giving Stormkit an apologetic lick. Satisfied, and half asleep already, Stormkit dozed off, Sunkit not far behind. But Ravenkit fought the call of sleep and wondered to herself as she often did. Who was her father? Where did he go? Didn't he love them?
Birchcloud purred softly. "Go to sleep, little Ravenkit."
"I'm not little," protested Ravenkit sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy. "I'm big and strong, the best warrior to ever live."
"Yes," whispered Birchcloud. And then, so quietly Ravenkit was convinced she had misheard, she whispered, "You're father would be so proud of you, Ravenkit."