"You can't catch me!" a small- and very cute- redish she-cat with yellow eyes yelled behind her. She was running through a small meadow with a large white tom with black stripes chasing her, his amber eyes glinting with pleasure as he almost caught up to her. They were so small; no bigger than a mouse, and they still had only kitten fuzz. A yellow tortoiseshell she-cat with markings on her face was sitting nearby, watching her kits, laughing at every move they made.
"No claws, Birchkit," she yellow she-cat told the white tom with black stripes.
"But ma!" Birchkit complained. "That's what makes it fun!"
"If I catch you scratching your brothers or sisters again I'll make sure you'll spend your first month of being an apprentice by taking care of the elders!" the kits' mother said, making her point. Birchkit shook his head and ran off to catch his sister.
"Sunstrike," a deep voice said behind the she-cat said. She looked back to find a red tom cat with white on his chest and large amber eyes.
"Foxwhisker," she greeted him. She looked back to the kits. There were six in total; five hiding, and one, Birchkit seeking. She found one near a rock hiding, another was inside a log. She wasn't sure where the others were, but she convinced herself they were fine.
Foxwhisker sat down next to Sunstrike. He stared out over the large meadow thoughtfully. The meadow seemed to dark now, compared to just minutes before. A storm had begun to move in, but it would probably- hopefully- just pass.
"What ya thinkin'?" Sunstrike asked Foxwhisker, looking at him.
"Ya know what I'm thinking," Foxwhisker started, still staring out across the open meadow. "I'm thinkin'; if I was the scrawniest, weakest, basically the runt of the litter in my family, why I survived the prophecy when it clearly said 'only the strongest will survive'..."
"You're not weak," Sunstrike told Foxwhisker comfortingly. Foxwhisker looked at her in a are-you-crazy kinda look. "Well, it doesn't matter. You're the one who survived."
Foxwhisker grinned a little and looked across the meadow again. "But, everyone knew it would be Wolfheart to survive. How did he die?"
"That's just one thing, we may never know," Sunstrike said, now looking where her mate was.
After a while of watching their kits play, Foxwhisker's ears stood straight up. He then stood up, looking around nervously.
"What is it?" Sunstrike asked nervously, her voice shaking.
"Gets the kits. Now!" he told her, still looking around for any danger. Sunstrike immediately took his advice and ran out to where her kits were playing to find them all.
"Kits!" she yelled, but none of them came. "KITS!" she yelled again, now more panicked than before. Foxwhisker looked down at her and they both knew something was wrong. In the distance, they heard a faint screech. That horrible, innocent, tiny little screech was enough to let the parents know where their kits were.
Sunstrike ran for the Lake, knowing her kits were there. Foxwhisker followed her swiftly. There it was again, another screech. In Sunstrike's mine, she saw her kits being thrown one-by-one into the Lake by a shadowy cat from the Dark Forest that was out for revenge on her kits. She ran faster than she had ever run before.
By the time they'd reached the Lake, Sunstrike and Foxwhisker's hearts were about to explode out of their chests. But they didn't care. They had to find their kits. Sunstrike walked along the rocky shore, the water gently lapping at her paws. That's when she noticed... blood.