"Quick! Get Ravenpelt!" Quailflight gasped. The whole RiverClan instantly awoke.
"What's wrong?" Dovepelt, another queen in the nursery, asked groggily. Her kits were still sleeping soundly by her belly.
"Silverstripe's having her kits!" Quailflight responded breathlessly. Ravenpelt had burst into the nursery with his apprentice, Finchtail, right at his heels. In their jaws were herbs needed for kit-birth.
"Of course she's having her kits. She's pregnant, what else would she be having? A diarrhea?" Dovepelt mumbled sarcastically as she drifted back to sleep.
Quailflight rolled her eyes and looked at Silverstripe. Her breathing was ragged and Ravenpelt had a paw at her belly. As another contraction came, Ravenpelt urged her. "Push!" he meowed. Silverstripe screeched and pushed. A wet kit came tumbling out onto the moss. Finchtail immediately licked its fur fiercely. It wailed and Finchtail placed it by its mother's belly. Silverstripe didn't have time to marvel her kit; another one was coming. Finchtail licked it and placed it by its mother's belly as she did the first one. Finally, the last kit was born. Finchtail finished licking it and placed it by its mother's belly with relief.
"Three kits—two she-kits and a tom! Congratulations, Silverstripe!" Ravenpelt purred. Silverstripe purred weakly.
Outside of the nursery, Silverstripe's mate, Birchsong, was pacing furiously. He seemed to be growling to himself as Finchtail stepped outside to tell him he could see his mate.
"She's fine. There's three healthy kits—two she-kits and a tom. I'd suggest you let her rest for the night, but it's okay to see her, too," she reported. Birchsong nodded, relieved. A look of pride spread across his face. He rushed into the nursery and saw Silverstripe, crooning over her kits. The warm, milky scent engulfed him as he slowly padded over to Silverstripe's nest.
"What should we name them, my love?" he asked breathlessly. One of the she-kits had glossy, smooth black fur, and the other had somewhat tangled dark gray pelt. The tom was light gray. He had silvery black triangle-shaped markings on his head, back, and legs. They were all beautiful and deserved beautiful names.
"Stormkit for my little tom," Silverstripe purred. "And Ashkit for this little she-kit." Silverstripe pointed to the tangled she-kit with her tail.
"Beautiful," Birchsong breathed, purring.
"You decide on this one," Silverstripe said suddenly, her motherly and loving attitude gone. Birchsong frowned slightly but looked at the last unnamed she-kit. Suddenly, he realized why Silverstripe wasn't looking at this one. It was so small, like it could die in a day or two. Silverstripe didn't want to name it only to be heartbroken a few days later. Birchsong took a deep breath.
"What about Glosskit?" he suggested. Silverstripe nodded drowsily and drifted off to sleep. As Birchsong looked down at his three kits, he purred softly.
"I will always love you," he whispered proudly, and licked each of their small heads gently.
Hey everyone! This is my first Fanfiction story, so I will get very discouraged if I don't get at least one review before I publish chapter 2!
QOTC (question of the chapter): If you were Silverstripe, would you have named Glosskit anyway?
PS. I did not copy anyone's story-this was my own original idea. It may be similar to other stories, but it is not a copy. Of any sorts.