The tiny molly felt cold for the first time and wailed as she struggled for warmth. She felt the rasp of a tongue then felt herself pushed towards warmth. She pressed up against something. That something had nubs and she latched onto one, sucking greedily and ceasing her cries of hunger. Soon, she was joined by a pair of warm bodies her size. The molly let go of her nub and mewled, unhappy with this new arrangement. She quickly grabbed onto her nub as the warmth on her left moved closer. She pushed with tiny paws and kept on sucking.
The next day, Carppelt was ready to name her kits. She called in Brody, her mate and the only tom she felt safe with. "Cherrykit for the ginger kit and Pikekit for the brown," she said.
"And the tom?" asked Brody, looking at his kits with wonder and pride. He didn't understand how Carppelt's old clan had named their kits but wasn't about to interfere with something clearly important to his mate. Pikekit shifted against her mother, pushing against Cherrykit. The three kits were asleep, curled peacefully against their mother.
"I was thinking Birchkit," replied Carppelt. "I'm sure he'll look striking when he's grown." She smiled down at the tiny tom. He yawned, opening his mouth to reveal a small pink tongue.
"I agree," murmured Brody. Indeed, Birchkit had taken after his father in his white-and-striped coloration. "I'll go hunt." He padded out of the den made of human rubbish, leaving his mate and kits behind to rest.
It was almost two weeks before the kits opened their eyes. Cherrykit was the first and was confused at all the blurry faces she now saw. When she looked up, she saw the blurry image of her mother as a large striped brown body. Looking at her littermates, she saw her brother Birchkit, who was white with black stripes, and her sister Pikekit, who was brown and striped like their mother. Looking down, Cherrykit's eyes widened in surprise as she saw herself for the first time. Though she still couldn't see well, she knew that she was ginger and striped with long fur like her brother and...father! She smelled Brody before she saw him. Cherrykit's father came into the den, holding a mouse in his jaws and did a double-take when he saw her looking at him with open eyes.
"Carppelt!" he exclaimed. "Cherrykit's opened her eyes!"
Carppelt laughed, looking down at her daughter. Cherrykit looked up, tensing, alarm evident in her kitten-blue eyes before relaxing as nothing bad happened. "Well, she is the eldest. You're going to be competitive," said Carppelt, whiskers twitched with amusement. "Aren't you?"
Cherrykit looked up in utter bemusement as she couldn't yet understand what her parents were saying. She mewled in surprise as her stomach rumbled with hunger and looked around. Where were the nubs she had fed from?
"Right here, dear," murmured an understanding Carppelt, nudging her kit to the only sourse of food she knew. As Cherrykit fed, the parents exchanged glances.
"She seems like she'll carry on your traditions," chuckled Brody.
"I certainly hope so," was Carppelt's reply.
By the time Cherrykit and her siblings were two moons old, they had learned to speak and loved to simulate clan battles of seasons past that their mother had told them about. When they were three moons old, Brody disappeared. The kits didn't notice for a couple of days whereupon they began to pester their mother as to when their father was coming back. Carppelt always replied "Soon" with her tail down and eyes softened in sadness. By the time the kits were four moons old, they had all but forgotten their father.
Carppelt decided to start training her kits in the ways of a warrior when they were almost five moons old. Though a violation of the Warrior Code, life as an alleycat was harsh and they would need the skills to survive. She started with the basics of hunting and fighting, both of which came naturally to Cherrykit.
"Now, jump and aim your paws towards your target!" called Carppelt to Cherrykit, who was sparring with Birchkit just outside their den.
Cherrykit complied and hit her brother in his face, as he had been too slow to dodge. He growled and lunged at her. She neatly dodged and watched him turn. Birchkit ran forward and lunged again, neatly pinning his sister. Cherrykit wriggled out of his grip and subsequently pinned him.
"I won!" she squealed with delight. Birchkit went limp and she relaxed, thinking that the fight was over. Instead, he rolled onto his stomach and arched his back, sending her a couple kittenlength backwards. Though she nearly crumpled from her landing, she recovered quickly to continue the fight.
"Ha," said Birchkit, mischief gleaming in his bright green eyes. The triplet's eyes had changed to their adult colors about a half-moon ago and only Pikekit shared their mother's amber eyes.
"This isn't over," hissed Cherrykit good-naturedly before springing at her brother.
As her siblings sparred, Pikekit sat near her mother, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was resting after losing a sparring match with Cherrykit and had thought of a new idea. Turning to her mother, she said, "I think I wanna become a medicine cat."
"Why?" asked Carppelt curiously.
"Because medicine cats are important; they save lives and are close to Starclan. And I think I'd like seeing you all the time. That way, you're always with me." Pikekit leaned on her mother, a dreamy smile on her muzzle.
Carppelt started. She had never envisioned training a medicine cat and silently prayed to her ancestors for help and guidance. Out loud, she said, "I don't know much about herbs, but I'll do my best."
And so while Cherrykit and Birchkit learned about the basics of hunting, fighting, and tracking, Pikekit also learned about herbs, poisons, and Starclan. Their training continued for about two moons until their seventh moon, when the triplets were separated from their mother.