Life. Is. Cruel. Ughhhhhh.

Sorry for not updating! I am having a hard time trying to figure out what to do as well as being able to get onto my laptop. I stopped planning awhile ago because of the problem above…. Welp… Anyway….

Happy (late) Thanksgiving!

THIS STORY IS GETTING REALLY HARD TO WRITE

AUGH

Also, would you like me to write a sequel? I might do that… maybe not… I think this story will end soon… yea...

Also number two, I need kit names for the tom! In the cannon, these two had two she-kits, Brindlekit and Smokekit. I added another kit so you guys can have more Breezetail fluff balls. You're welcome.

Also number three, I can't find Brindlekit's eye color/personality or Smokekit's eye color/personality. If you know, tell me. Otheriwse, I will be making something up.

Also number four, we have a lot of 'alsos' this chapter… and I think this is the longest Author's Note I've done in awhile. It is probably as long as this excuse for a chapter.

Forgive me for taking so long... again! I bring you fluff and a worried father as a peace offering!

Chapter Seventeen

Screaming sounded through camp. Breezepelt perked his ears. The kits!

Breezepelt was trying to get over his grumpiness and ignore Crowfather with the help of his mate. He wanted to try and be a good father to his kits, unlike Crowfeather… even if he wasn't his real father. Thank Starclan!

The tom dashed off toward the nursery. Will she be okay?

Sedgewhisker stopped him. "No, Breezepelt. It is best you stay out here."

"But-" The black tom started.

"No buts." The light brown she-cat meowed stubbornly. "If you need something to do, you can go be with the kits. They are with Emberfoot."

Breezepelt groaned. "Ugh… just let me see her!"

"Stay out here." Sedgewhisker turned around and padded back into the den to help.

He let out a frustrated huff, lashing his tail. His kits were being born and he couldn't even see them! Breezepelt started pacing, annoyed.

What seemed like moons later, the medicine cat walked out of the den. He looked exhausted.

"How is she? How are the kits? How many are they?" Breezepelt bombed him with questions.

"How about you see for yourself." Kestrelflight used to his tail to gesture to the nursery.

The new father didn't need to be told twice. His eyes widened slightly when he spotted the three little bodies. The tip of his lips twitched up. "Heathertail…"

"Come meet your new kits." The queen purred softly, her eyes shining with love and affection as well as exhaustion.

A small gray she-kit seemed to try to climb onto her sister, who was a mottled brown she-kit.

A small, dark furred tom with a dark gray stomach suckled softly, ignoring his confused sisters.

Breezepelt slowly padded toward them, a purr rumbling in his throat. "They're beautiful." He breathed.

Meanwhile, two almost lifeless bodies laid on the moors of Windclan territory.

And no one knew they were there.