Chapter 5

Owlpaw was looking directly at a frog. He stepped forward slowly and carefully. Dragging himself forward, Owlpaw was about to pounce when a cold, wet feeling at the back of his neck distracted him. Hissing, Owlpaw swung his paw around to brush it off, and in that moment, the frog hopped away.

"Lizard dung!" Owlpaw spat. The wet feeling on his neck was still there.

"Owlpaw! Owlpaw, wake up!" Hollypaw's voice sliced through Owlpaw's dream. "Owlpaw, you were kicking everyone! Are you okay?" The amount of concern in her blue eyes surprised Owlpaw.

"Um, yeah, I guess," Owlpaw muttered.

Hollypaw glanced up at the roof of the apprentice's den. "You were sleeping right under a crack in the top," she told him. "And it's been raining all night." A steady drip of water fell from a small hole in the roof.

Owlpaw glanced outside. He couldn't tell if it was night or day, but if he had to guess, it would be night. It was pouring. Nobody was in the camp. He poked one paw outside. In an instant, it was drenched.

Owlpaw shrank back inside, accidentally stepping on a tail as he did so.

"Hey! That hurts!" Apparently, Owlpaw had stepped on Nightpaw's tail. Nightpaw was also Hollypaw's brother. The pair had been made apprentices two moons before Owlpaw.

Nightpaw rubbed his sore tail. "Sorry," apologized Owlpaw. "It's fine," grumbled Nightpaw. "Just don't do it again."

There was a loud yawn. Their conversation had woken up another apprentice, Sorrelpaw. "Wha...what's happening?" Her words were interrupted with another yawn.

"Nothing," said Hollypaw. "Go back to sleep."

Nightpaw snorted. "You're not doing a very good job of that, Hollypaw," he pointed out.

Hollypaw glared at Nightpaw. "Then you go back to sleep!"

Owlpaw covered his ears with his tail and curled up in his nest. His eyes had barely closed when he heard an agonized yowl.

Owlpaw jumped up, as did everyone else in the den.

"What? What happened? What's going on? Is something wrong? Someone, tell me! Please! Why was there a shriek? Are we being attacked? Is Shadowclan going to-" Sorrelpaw was interrupted as Nightpaw covered her mouth with his tail.

"Be quiet," he growled. "Please."

Sorrelpaw nodded.

It seemed as though the rest of the camp was waking up too. Owlpaw glimpsed Grayfeather and Amberpaw racing through the storm. A twinge of jealousy stabbed Owlpaw. He pushed it away.

What's going on?

Pinestar yowled out the question that burned though everycat's head. "What's happening?" he asked.

Grayfeather ran past him, answering over her shoulder. "Stormlight's kitting."

Owlpaw stiffened. The young queen had joined the nursery barely a half-moon ago.

"Already?" he asked.

Amberpaw was nothing more than a pale ginger blur as he passed by Owlpaw. "Yeah."

"But they're not due for another moon!" Owlpaw recognized the voice as Dawnfeather, Stormlight's mother.

"I guess the kits wanted to get out," piped up Sorrelpaw.

Nightpaw curled back up into a fuzzy black ball. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Amberpaw! Get some raspberry leaves!" Grayfeather ordered.

"Which ones are those again?" Amberpaw asked.

Grayfeather let out an exsaperated sigh. "They have jagged edges, but they're soft. It's near the front of the den."

"Right."

Owlpaw felt another stab of envy. Amberpaw's learning so much!

Owlpaw crept out of the den, braving the pounding rain. He quickly hurried to the nursery, and peered inside. A pale silver tabby, Stormlight, was laying on her side. As Owlpaw watched, a spasm wracked Stormlight. She shrieked again.

Grayfeather was with her, quietly whispering to the queen, who was clearly in pain. Owlpaw had heard that Grayfeather was Stormlight's sister. They certainly did look alike, with their pale silver fur, pink noses, and green eyes.

A bulky white tom that Owlpaw recognized as Whiteheart, Stormlight's mate, sped into the nursery. "Stormlight," he panted.

Stormlight let out a soft moan. "The first kit's almost here," Grayfeather encouraged the beautiful young queen. Grayfeather looked out of the nursery. "Where's Amberpaw?"

As soon as she spoke, the ginger tom was in the nursery. He was carrying a bundle of herbs. Grayfeather sighed. "I asked for raspberry leaves, Amberpaw! Not dock!"

"Oops," muttered Amberpaw. He sped off.

Owlpaw felt helpless. He could only watch as Stormlight screeched with pain. "The first kit's coming," said Grayfeather. Another spasm rippled across Stormlight's fur. A small, wet bundle slid onto the bed of soft moss. Stormlight was gasping for air. Grayfeather nipped open the sac and started licking the fur on the small white tom the wrong way to warm her up.

"You're doing fine," Grayfeather said gently.

Owlpaw watched, entranced, as a another kit came out. She was small, but sturdy, and had silver fur that looked exactly like Stormlight's.

"That's it," said Grayfeather.

"There's only two?" asked Whiteheart. Grayfeather nodded.

At that moment, Amberpaw came back, gasping for breath. "Are these the raspberry leaves?" He held up a pawful of what Owlpaw recognized as mallow leaves.

Grayfeather sighed. "No, Amberpaw," she said. Upon seeing the look of disappointment and worry on his face, however, she added, "No real harm has been done. Stormlight kitted succesfully."

Whiteheart swept his tail over his new-born kits. "What are we going to name them?" he murmured.

Stormlight didn't respond.

"Stormlight? Stormlight!" Whiteheart shook his mate.

It was no use. She was gone.

"No!" Whiteheart wailed. "No! Please, Starclan, no!"

Owlpaw looked at Whiteheart and his kits with pity. "I'm sorry," he meowed.

Whiteheart buried his head in his mate's cold fur.

Owlpaw took a tentative step forward. In doing so, he accidentally knocked over the small white tom. "Oops!" Owlpaw apologized. "I'm so sorry!"

But the tiny white kit didn't make a sound. He just rolled over. Owlpaw gasped.

Whiteheart started yowling with pain. "Not him, too!"

"Whiteheart," said Grayfeather, her voice hoarse with grieving and pain. "I-I'm so sorry."

"I have to name them," mumbled Whiteheart. He gazed at the small white kit. "Stormlight always liked the name Cloudkit," he said. "She said that if she had a kit, she would name one Cloudkit." Whiteheart looked at the small silver kit, a miniature version of Stormlight. He touched her, and the kit squeaked."And this one will be Stormkit."

Grayfeather touched his shoulder with her tail. "We'll have to ask Poppywind if she can suckle the kits," she sighed. Whiteheart nodded.

"Mama! What's happening? What was that sound?" Owlpaw looked in the direction of the voice. It was Hawkkit, who had apparently been woken by the Whitehearts howls of pain.

"Hawkkit, go back to sleep," Snowkit's sleepy voice said.

"But I want to see what's happening to!" squealed Rosekit.

"All of you, be quiet," muttered Rockkit.

"Go back to sleep." Owlpaw recognized Poppywind's soothing, motherly voice.

"Actually," said Grayfeather, "Poppywind, we need your help."

Poppywind raised her russet-furred head. "What? Why?"

"Stormlight...Stormlight, she...she died while kitting."

Poppywind was instantly alert. "Oh no!" Grayfeather nodded. "We need you to suckle the kit."

Poppywind nodded, distracted. "O-oh, of course." She padded forward and sat down beside the kits. Stormkit started suckling immediately. "Why isn't the white one drinking milk too?" Poppywind asked. Grayfeather hesitated. "Cloudkit? Well...she-"

"She's dead." Owlpaw jumped. Whiteheart's green eyes were clouded with grief. "She's dead, and she's not coming back. Cloudkit's in Starclan with S-Stormlight." Whiteheart wailed. "Why, Starclan? What did they do? What did I do?"

Meanwhile, Rosekit was trying to get a better look at the kits. "Why isn't Stormlight moving?" she asked.

"Go back to sleep," ordered Poppywind. Rosekit harrumphed. "Fine."

The rain came down even harder, pounding down on the muddied cround. Owlpaw was drenched, his paws standing in pools of water. And as he padded out of the nursery and back into his own den, he couldn't help but wonder.

Why would Starclan take a kit?