Prologue

The sun warmed the smooth stones under the she-cat's paws as she crept along the forest floor towards the unsuspecting black bird that sat atop a fallen branch. She kept her steps small and light as she grew ever closer to the bird before she slowly, ever so slowly, gathered her haunches under herself. The wind whistled in her ears as she launched herself into the air and allowed her aching claws to spring forwards towards the black feathered bird. It had never even noticed her presence until it was too late; it let out a sudden cry of alarm as it met the eyes of its killer and trying futilely to fly away only to be stopped by a swift bite to the neck.

The bird was limp in her jaws as she smirked and climbed off the branch in triumph. "Nice catch," the red-brown tom called as the rest of the patrol approached the she-cat. The she-cat set the bird down and bowed her head to the deputy before glancing at what her clanmates had caught. One glance and she knew that they hadn't caught nearly enough to feed the clan and a stone settled itself in her belly. Despite their best efforts, the patrol of the best hunters had only managed to catch a squirrel and a few scrawny birds.

The deputy seemed to notice her glance and rested his tail-tip against the young warriors shoulder. "Don't worry, Rosecrystal, the day is still young," he reassured her before looking to the rest of the patrol. "Let's head back to camp, we can come back a bit later and see if the prey is running then." The cats nodded and gathered what little prey they had. Their deputy took hold of Rosecrystal's small bird and led the group away from the clearing. The she-cat sighed before following after them with her tail stirring the leaves behind her.

Over the past few moons, leaf-bare had begun to take its toll on how the prey ran before the first snow had even shown itself. SkyClan was suffering just as badly as the other clans, only a pawful of prey every few patrols barley managed to keep the queens and elders fed, much less the warriors who needed the prey in order to continue hunting. Leaf-bare had grown worse as the harsh winds caused more and more warriors to fall from the branches of trees as they hunted and caused more and more injuries to be treated. Swallowfur had had to make three warriors stay in the camp due to dislodged shoulders and broken legs caused by the falls.

As she pondered these thoughts, she hadn't noticed the lithe brown she-cat slow her steps to fall in beside her. "Hey," Fawnleap mewed worriedly, "how are you doing?" Rosecrystal glanced up to meet the older warrior's eyes before sighing and looking away. "I feel ashamed," she admitted weakly. "Normally I can catch three birds in one fell swoop, now I can't seem to make my paws move the right way." She had only noticed her sudden clumsiness a few sunrises ago, but it was already starting to hurt her ability to hunt.

Fawnleap looked sympathetic as they entered camp before joining the patrol at the fresh-kill pile. "That happens to everyone at some point or another, it isn't that unusual," she purred, resting her tail tip against the creamy she-cat's ear. Rosecrystal flicked her ear angrily and sent a light glare towards the cat before stalking away from her denmate, who inevitably followed after her. Although Fawnleap's words had calmed her anxieties, she still worried about the odd fluttering feeling she felt in her stomach every so often. For sunrises these tiny feather tickled her stomach whenever she felt worried or when she was near her mate. She had realized what it was only that morning and had yet to tell her mate of what was happening. Fawnleap stared at her face as she quietly pondered over her thoughts, her eyes shining with a sort of kit-like mischief. "You haven't told Gorsefoot yet?"

Rosecrystal smiled as the fluttering in her stomach intensified slightly when Fawnleap mentioned her mate. Lifting one paw, she placed it on her growing stomach and waited to feel the small moving in her body that proved that tiny lives were growing within her. Although slight, she could feel the movement of tiny lives. In only a few more sunrises, she would have to leave the hunting to Fawnleap and join the two other queens in the small cave where she had been kitted season ago.

"Hey!"

Her ears perked in surprise as she picked out the cool voice of her mate as he approached the two she-cats. He padded quickly past their clanmates and pressed his muzzle against Rosecrystal's. "I was wondering where you had gone. Let me guess," he took a moment to look her over, "you went out hunting?" Fawnleap snickered, receiving a quick cuff to her ear from Rosecrystal, before quickly taking her leave so the two could talk.

Gorsefoot stared after the lithe brown she-cat before turning his gaze back to his mate. "Would you like to get a bite to eat?" As he spoke, the fluttering in her stomach grew more intense to the point where it almost took her breath away. A small gasp escaped from her mouth as she tried to suppress the sudden jolt of movement in her stomach. The tom took notice of this and opened his eyes wide in fear. "What's wrong?" he mewed tentatively. "Did you get hurt while you were out hunting, should I go get Swallowfur?" Despite the pain, she gave her worried mate a small grin before straightening to her full height, fluffing out her pelt in hopes that it would give her courage.

"No, you don't need to get Swallowfur; I already know what's going on," she explained cautiously. Gorsefoot continued to watch her, unsure of how to react. The tiny lives wiggled around again as they seemed to realize that their existence was about to be revealed before their father. Her paw lifted on its own and placed itself over her stomach in order to feel her kits moving through her pelt. The gesture did not go unnoticed, but the tom was still unsure of what was going on. "You see, we- that is- I…." For a reason she could not really acknowledge, she was stuttering over her words. Inwardly, she scolded herself for being so cowardly and took a long breath in order to clear her sense and try again.

"You see, Gorsefoot, I'm- we- are going to be parents."

Two amber orbs widened in pure astonishment before opening even wider as raw joy replaced his surprise; Gorsefoot smiled before pressing his muzzle happily against his mate's ear and shivered happily. He then pulled away and cuffed her ear playfully, scoffing as he did. "Mouse brain, I thought you were going to tell me you didn't want to be my mate anymore!" Now Rosecrystal's eyes widened in shock and she shook her head vigorously as if that could send the words away. She pressed herself against the mottled black tom and breathed in his scent as the tiny lives pressed against her stomach in order to be closer to their father. "I promise you, Gorsefoot, we will never be apart so long as we are under the stars of our ancestors." She pulled her head back to look up at her mate. "These kits are the proof of my love to you."

Gorsefoot looked lovingly at his mate before pressing himself against her and whispered quietly, "No, these kits are what is born from our love for each other." The two stayed like that, sitting with their sides pressed against one another and their tails intertwined, as the stars of Silverpelt brought light to the darkening sky above them.


Screams of pure pain howled through the vines of brambles that formed the entrance to the nursery. The entire clan sent worried glances towards the cave and the mottled tom waiting patiently outside for the medicine cat to come out. At first, he had paced restlessly about before settling himself in a patch of shade where he nearly melted away in the shadows. He glanced up at the sun that sat almost directly over the camp and sighed.

Rosecrystal had moved into the nursery only two sunrises ago, having refused to stop hunting until she knew the clan could manage without her for a few moons. Gorsefoot had awoken to the prodding of Fawnleap who had told him that the queen was kitting. He had raced out of the den only to be halted by Swallowfur just a fox-length away from the nursery where howls of pain were more audible. She had forbade him from entering and asked for Fawnleap to make sure Lionstar kept the clan working while she did the task she was trained for.

He stared up at the sun as it reached its height and shifted his paws worriedly. From what he had heard amongst the whispers of his clanmates, a kitting did not usually take so long unless there were more than two kits. The thought of his kits being born warmed his heart greatly, yet made him feel nervous for Rosecrystal. As he pondered over his thoughts, he didn't notice the large tabby tom approach him from behind until he settled himself beside the mottled tom. Lionstar stared at the brambles with the same sort of worry Gorsefoot felt.

"How long has this gone on now?" his leader whispered. Gorsefoot sighed and lowered his head so that his chin hovered over his chest fur. "I've been here since before dawn, StarClan knows how much longer this will take." Lionstar turned to watch the tom before turning his attention to the rest of his clan. The worry for his clanmate ate at him terribly, but the worry for his sister ate at him even more so as the sun arched overhead.

Just as their worries began to grow worse, a final, heart-wrenching scream filled the air before all was silent. The two exchanged a glance before turning their eyes to stare at the brambles expectantly. After a pawful of heartbeats, a head poked out and a blue-gray she-cat made her way out of the den. Swallowfur looked as though she was seasons older, bags appearing visibly under her eyes and her paws shaking as she stepped down from the small ledge that separated the nursery's entrance from the sandy ground of their hollow. After a moment, she lifted her eyes to look between her leader and clanmate. Within her vibrant yellow eyes flickered something Gorsefoot couldn't identify and something that caused Lionstar to become rigid. Instead of trying to settle the large tom's worries, she turned her head to address Gorsefoot. "Go and see her, she needs you now more than ever."

Before the words finished leaving her mouth, Gorsefoot pushed his way through the brambles and went to his mate's side. The den was dark, darker than it usually appeared and the scents of milk were nearly overpowered by a coppery scent he was all too familiar with. As he looked about the den, he noticed the creamy she-cat he loved resting in a nest of moss and feathers. Her eyes were glazed and sad as she looked up at him, then tears filled her eyes and she released horrible sobs that broke his heart in two. He went to his mate and curled around her in an attempt to comfort her.

They stayed beside each other as long as they could before Gorsefoot had to ask. "How many?" His voice was as soft as the pawsteps of a cat during a hunt. Her head lifted to look at the small bundles that suckled at her milk warm belly. Four small bundles of fur mewled and whimpered as they felt the gazes of their parents looking over them. One, a small cream kit that nearly melted into its mother's similarly colored pelt, lifted its head curiously as the sounds of the camp flitted into the nursery. This one kit seemed to be the strongest, holding its head up and easily capable of returning to its place to suckle alongside its littermates.

Rosecrystal carefully lowered her head and cleaned the heads of each kit, the look of sadness still fresh in her eyes. He watched his mate as she groomed the tiny bundles before looking over her head to see Swallowfur carrying a much smaller bundle away from the family. Five. Rosecrystal had brought five beautiful kits into the world and only four had survived. Grief filled him from whisker to tail tip as he looked to his mate and watched over his mate as she looked at her remaining kits with loving care. "What should we name them? There are three she-kits and one tom" she asked quietly, looking to her she-kits and tom in turn.

He looked at their kits once again before taking a breath and touching the small black tom kit with his nose. "I think this one should be named Nightkit, because his fur is as dark as the night's sky." Her eyes sparkled as she watched Nightkit squirm under his father's nose before she turned her eyes to an equally small ginger-brown tabby she-kit who suckled fiercely for milk. "Mallowkit would be a good name for this she-kit," she murmmered sleepily. One glance at the queen and any cat could tell that she was slowly becoming more and more exhausted after kitting for such a long time. Only two kits were still unnamed, one was a plump tortoiseshell she-kit and the other was the creamy she-kit who seemed to melt into her mother's belly fur.

"Could we name the smaller she-kit Leafkit?" Gorsefoot asked, touching the tiny tortoiseshell kit's flank as he spoke. She let out a small whimper and tried to move closer to Rosecrystal's belly causing her to smile lightly at her daughter's shyness. This only left the cream she-kit nameless. She looked at the one kit that seemed to have very little trouble suckling at her mother's belly and making her presence known. Of all the kits, only this she-kit seemed truly strong enough to suckle while the other simply tried to suckle as much they could. Her mother looked her over before whispering softly to her mate, "That little cream she-kit was the last born. She waited for her littermates to be born before being born herself."

Seeming to have heard her mother talking about her, the she-kit lifted her berry colored nose into the air and sniffed curiously at her parents. An amused purr reverberated from her father as he smiled at his youngest daughter's curiosity. "That means that she will put the clan before everything else no matter what." His mate raised her eyes to look at his smugly as if his words humored her, making his pelt heat up in embarrassment. "At least," he stammered, "that's how I see it."

Suddenly, Rosecrystal let out a great laugh that made Gorsefoot flinch in surprise. For such a long time after kitting, she had seemed to have been broken hearted to the point where she could never heal, and yet she could still laugh. It warmed his heart and made him smile, but he couldn't forget that they still hadn't named their youngest kit. Her pelt was almost the same shade as her mother's, but she had an odd cloudy look to her and her tiny body seemed to have a certain strength to it that the other lacked. For some reason, she reminded him of the moon; only rising after the stars had begun to appear on Silverpelt.

"Moonkit."

Rosecrystal paused in her laughter to look to Gorsefoot in question. He smiled at his thoughts before explaining. "This last she-kit, the youngest one, she is like the moon. She only claws into the sky once our ancestors have taken their places in Silverpelt. Her name should be Moonkit in honor of this trait." The queen smiled at her mate's words before looking to Moonkit and let the blackness of sleep sweep over her just as her tail swept her kits closer to her milk-warm belly.


So, I noticed recently that Rosecrystal says she has four kits but only three are at her belly. Had to change that. I hate continuity. See y'all next chapter