Remember to review! (Or Ravensong will murder you while you sleep! XD)

And I grew up with that lie. The lie that Pinestripe was my father and that his mate, Flowershine, was my mother, but my "aunt" Brindlewhisker raised me because Flowershine had no milk.

As soon as I learned my real origins, I felt ashamed of myself. I had always been good at picking out the truth from the lies. Yet, I had missed all the tell-tale signs that my "relatives" really weren't. I had failed to notice mine and my siblings' gray and black pelts, opposed to my "family," who all had brown fur. I failed to notice their bulky builds compared to our slender ones. Worst of all, my supposedly finely tuned ears filtered out all the gossip my clanmates said about me when I passed by.

Anyways, back to the story. Now how 'bout my first days as Pinestripe's kit, shall we?

Brindlewhisker watched her brother stroll into camp with, to her surprise, three young kits. Every head turned to the one next to it, sharing what they thought of the unusual phenomenon. Even her fellow queen, Willowflight, craned her head to whisper in her ear, "Those don't look like Flowershine's kits."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Brindlewhisker assured, trying to dismiss it. "Those lazy, heartless kittypets drop their kits at the border all the time. Probably just another litter of those." But Brindlewhisker herself was full of questions.

"Pinestripe," Lightningstar's voice boomed as loud as thunder, which Brindlewhisker found ironic for his name. "May I ask who's kits are those?" That was one of Brindlewhisker's biggest pet peeves about him: he always said everything loudly, never giving a thought to the fact it could be a private matter.

But her docile brother paid no mind to it and strode up to the Forestclan leader. "I don't know. I found them near the river. Lucky ones they were, as there were others floating in the river, with bite and claw marks."

Kit murder? Impossible! No loners, kittypets, or even rogues for that matter would dare going near the river, where Forestclan cats swarmed to. Brindlewhisker doubted a lone cat venture to the river, her clan's most prized territory, so it must have been an inside job.

Pinestripe paused for the gasps and gossip to end. "Even worse, Ravensong's body was floating the water. I would have retrieved it, but I wanted to get the kits before whatever killed Ravensong came back."

Now all the pieces fell into place. A medicine cat, untrained in battle, comes to the river to collect herbs. Then a rogue ambushes her, she is left defenceless, the rogue pushes her into the water and begins murdering the kits. An unknowing Pinestripe approaches, the rogue bolts, leaving the deed unfinished.

But something unsettling still lingered in Brindlewhisker's stomach. Ravensong had been acting strange lately. Snapping at others, eating more, and disappearing often for the last two weeks. Though she never admitted it, Ravensong had always seemed kind of unstable to her. Could those kits belong to her? Was she the one who murdered the kits? Did she kill herself?

Pinestripe turned his attention to the nursery before making his way over. But Brightwhisker noticed a change in his stride. His steps became heavier and his posture became stiff, almost like he was regretting what came next. Brindlewhisker was sure that he was fearing her questions.

"Dear sister," Pinestripe said to Brindlewhisker, using the same greeting he used when he wanted a favor from her as kits. Brindlewhisker's multi-colored whiskers for which she was named twitched as she awaited the rest. "Would you please be so kind to feed these kits? I know you've been sad since you lost-"

"You must really think I'm awful," Brindlewhisker said, cutting him off with a scoff. "I could never turn away a kit. And besides, Raccoonkit could use some company. Plus, she shouldn't know her siblings die."

Brindlewhisker beconed him closer with her tail. She subtly glanced around just to make sure no one was looking, especially not Willowflight, the biggest gossiper in the clan. "Are they Ravensong's kits?" She asked, as quiet as possible.

Pinestripe took a moment, processing the words she just said, making sure he had heard right. He bit his lip as he drew back, slightly nodding his head. "Yes." He spoke in a tone almost like the secret was his, not Ravensong's. But if Brindlewhisker knew her brother, he would do anything to keep other cats happy.

"Very well then." Brindlewhisker said as if she had just lost an argument, not like she had just found out Forestclan's medicine cat was a kit murderer. "Did she also..." Her voice was lost, almost like it had just dropped off a cliff.

Truthfully, she didn't want to end that sentence. That would be admitting that she had misjudged the situation. That she had convinced herself that her thoughts about Ravensong were just her imagination when they were actually reality. That her dear kithood friend was a cold-blooded murderer.

Pinestripe's solemnly and slowly nodded, almost looking like he regretted answering. Brindlewhisker liked being right, but was sad that her clan let psychopaths like that slip through the cracks.

"Do they have names?" Brindlewhisker asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Pinestripe nodded again for yes and began calling off their names as he pointed to them with his tail. "This one is Spiderkit-" He paused to gesture to the black tom. "Blizzardkit-" He said, reffering to the light gray tom. "And Juniperkit." He pointed to the gray she-kit.

It was then their conversation were interrupted by her two-moon old daughter, Racconkit, who was appropriately named for her white pelt and black stripes. "Mama?" The young she-kit asked in her high-pitched kit voice. "Will these kittens be my siblings?"

"No, honey," Brindlewhisker replied in her soothing, motherly voice. "They'll be your cousins. But you mustn't tell them where they came from; that would only make them sad." She looked to Pinestripe to confirm and he nodded.

Sighing peacefully, Brindlewhisker pulled the kits closer to her, making a silent vow to always protect them. She knew their life would only get worse. After all, that's the downside to living in a clan.