Warriors: Shattered Blossom

Chapter Three

 Lightning flashed and thunder roared. Cragkit squirmed closer to Strikefeather's belly, seeking warmth from the chilly air. He was four moons old now, nearly too big to share the nest with his mother and Nightkit anymore.

Hollykit, Cardinalkit, and Fleckkit were growing quickly as well. The nursery was feeling cramped, and it didn't help that Sedgeflight's belly was so big.

Suddenly, a low moan rose from within the den. Cragkit poked his head up, amber eyes dilating to the darkness. Sedgeflight was hunched over in her nest, clear pain drawn across her face. The little gray tom froze.

"Strikefeather!" He exclaimed, turning to his mother and urgently prodding her side. "Strikefeather, wake up!"

Strikefeather stirred, blinking open her amber eyes. "What is it, Cragkit?" The queen sighed, drawing her gaze to the tom.

Cragkit lifted his eyes to hers, round like twin amber moons. "Something's wrong with Sedgeflight," he mewled, wrapping his tail anxiously around his haunches.

Strikefeather burst to her paws, waking Nightkit with her sudden movement. The black tom squeaked in frustration, casting a sour glare to his mother.

Strikefeather, ignoring her son's protests, hurried to Sedgeflight's side. "Are you all right? What hurts?" She fretted, gently cresting a paw over the queen's swollen stomach.

"I think..." Sedgeflight's face screwed up amid the pain. "I think my kits are coming."

"I'll go fetch Stumpwhisker for you," Strikefeather promised, pressing her nose gently to the queen's forehead. "Cragkit," the tom stood at attention as his mother addressed him, "wake the others and take them to the elder's den."

"To the elder's den? Through the storm?" Cragkit gasped.

"Yes, through the storm."

"But—"

"Cragkit, do as I say!"

Strikefeather lashed her tail and darted outside without another word. Cragkit stood, frozen in shock, before shaking himself out of his dazed state. He hurried to Vixensong's side and urgently nudged the queen awake.

Vixensong's sharp yellow eyes fluttered open, stuttering like the gentle wings of a butterfly. "What's going on, Cragkit?" She mumbled.

"Strikefeather said to get everybody out of the den," he proclaimed, sticking his tail out and puffing his chest. "I think Sedgeflight's kits are coming."

Vixensong stretched to her paws and nudged her three kits awake, who protested softly. "You three, go outside with Cragkit," she purred. "Sedgeflight's kits are coming, and she's going to need my help. Don't get into any trouble," she looked pointedly at Cragkit when she said this.

Heat rushed to his ears. "I won't," he vowed, fluffing out his fur fiercely. "Come on, guys!"

Cragkit quickly urged his friends to their paws, then he turned to Nightkit, who had slipped straight back to sleep even through the ambience of wails and rain. He prodded his reluctant brother awake.

Thunder crashed through the air, drowning out Sedgeflight's agony. With an audible protest, the five kits scrambled out of the den. Cragkit found himself face-to-face with Stumpwhisker, whose thick fur was drenched with rainwater and his head ducked low to protect the precious herbs from the downpour.

Twitching his whiskers, Cragkit scampered to the side, and the medicine cat dove into the nursery. The little tom exchanged glances with his denmates, who were now as soaked as he was.

"Hurry! The elder's den is over here," he cried, shaking out his fur and beginning the agonizing trek.

The kits all blinked at him blearily, but they offered little complaint as they hurried across the rain-soaked clearing. There were so many puddles that their paws constantly splashed, and Cragkit was drenched in muddy water up to his belly fur.