Chapter 1

Westly raced through the forest, barging past undergrowth and ferns with a panic. He followed a loud wailing noise, knowing exactly what it was. He burst out of the undergrowth and into a damp clearing full of moss. In the middle laid a very plump cream and brown she-cat. Her agonized wails seemed to shake the forest.

"Oh, Finch, my love!" The tom raced over to Finch, nuzzling her lovingly. She nuzzled him back, but was cut short by a screech of pain. Her soft belly rippled. The tom knew she was kitting.

"Westly… please, get-" A long groan passed through her parted jaws, and she strained to keep it down. "Get me something to bite. I can't keep on-" Another groan, longer now. "Keep on yowling like this!" She sounded breathless.

Westly nodded, understanding the racket could attract a fox, or worse, a badger. The tom quickly raced away to find a thick stick, and came back moments later holding a short, but very thick, stick. He dropped it at her paws and she groaned, picking it up and biting into the bark.

"Hang in there Finch." He sat beside her belly, massaging it with his paws to help the kits get through. Finch pushed, her belly rippling, and Westly heard the stick between her jaws start to splinter. He gently pushed her tail aside to see a wet bundle slip into the cool, mossy clearing. Westly quickly plucked the kit up and sat him beside his mate.

"A handsome tom. He looks just like his mother." Westly commented, lapping at the tom kit's wet fur. The kit mewled, quickly searching for a teet to latch onto.

Finch had calmed her breathing, but her stomach still heaved. Another kit would soon be on its way. "Let's call him… Mole. His size and brown fur reminds me of one..." She smiled fondly on her newborn kit and she nuzzled the tom kit affectionately. The moment quickly ended as another ripple passed through her. She yowled, picking up the stick once more and clenching it between her teeth. Her body heaved, the second kit coming.

Westly could see his mate straining as her energy ebbed. It had been a hard first kitting and the second one was being even more stubborn. He lapped Finch's ear and murmured some encouraging words. "You've almost got it. I can see its head!" He shuffled towards her hindquarters to watch as the kit finally slid out onto the ground, and he nipped the delicate sac enclosing it.

The sac had broke, spilling its contents, along with the kit. "A beautiful she-kit, so much like her father." Westly murmured happily, gently setting her beside her mother and lapping her clean. She soon hobbled over to her mother's stomach and began to suckle beside her brother. "Lets call her fox, as her russet fur reminds me of one." Finch sighed, panting, and laid her head down, although she nodded agreement. Westly saw the look of exhaustion on her face and quickly lapped her cheek.

"Get some rest. I'll go and hunt."

She murmured quietly in response, half asleep. "Mhm.."

With that, the fox colored tom padded off into the trees, weaving between bushes and jumping over fallen trees.

Westly padded back into the clearing, where his mate was sheltered inside a large, hollow bush at the edge if it. He could now hear loud mewls from within the bush, and he pushed through inside and dropped two squirrels, one young and the other large and plump.

"Thank you love." She breathed, devouring the squirrels in which Westly allowed her to have.

"You need to eat as much as you can, and I can always hunt if I need to." He'd meowed, assuring her a bit more.

Now he was curled up beside her, gazing lovingly at his offspring. "They're so beautiful." Westly meowed in a hushed voice, looking at the squirming bundles of fur. "They're going to grow up so strong…"

Now the two cats were curled together, tails wrapped protectively around the newborn kits. Suddenly, Westly's head snapped up as the bush began to rustle. Something russet emerged, and by the gleam in its beady eyes, he knew instantly what it was. "Fox!" He whipped around grabbing one of the kits while she scrambled up, still weak from kitting, and scooped up Mole.

Westly pushed his mate through the bush and ran out with her, the fox snapping at his tail and missing by half a mouse-length Finch yowled in terror and put on a sudden burst of speed, fleeing. The fox began to gain some ground and Westly knew it would soon catch him. He quickly Dropped fox into a clump of ferns and whipped around, snarling. The fox barked at him.

"You dare attack my mate and my kits!" The father howled, fury in his eyes. He leaped, but not at the fox, past it. He raked a claw along its side and ran. "Come get me, flea-pelt!" The fox snarled with rage and ran after him.

Yes, follow me, away from mate and kits… Westly thought, inwardly smiling that his plan was working. Soon, he had led the fox far from their nest, and saw it was panting. But he was too, and suddenly he tripped on a root, his weary paws clumsy. He let out a shrill wail as the fox was instantly upon him, its eyes lighting up once more. It battered his back, clumps of fur torn off each time a paw struck him. He struggled, escaping and running several tail-lengths before jaws enclosed on his tail.

"Release me, filth!" He snarled, but the fox simply yanked him back and lunged. Westly let out a wail as jaws latched onto his throat. He felt his lungs stop and his body freeze. He suddenly lashed out desperately, trying to free himself, but the fox pinned him to the ground. His vision began to blacken. So this is it… He thought to himself, thoughts already hazy. Westly smirked, almost chuckling. I die saving my family. My beautiful kits, and loving mate…

Westly stopped struggling and accepted defeat. There was nothing more he could do. The fox viciously tightened his grip, and with a sickening snap, dropped the cat's body. It looked around, but it had gotten what it wanted, and dragged the body away as night began to fall.