Warriors: Starlight

Chapter 7

Fireheart was shuffling through the fresh kill pile, searching for vole to take to Goldenflower, and hopefully a mouse for himself.

They'd brought the kits to the clan in the morning and it was now sundown, but Fireheart had tried to avoid the nursery as much as he could, knowing that he'd have to sleep there for the next six moons anyway. He felt the determination that he mentally built up turn to slop when he really thought about the implications of having kits. The time that they'll steal from me, the sleepless nights I hear the queens complaining about all the time, the-

"Fireheart!" Graystripe called from the warriors den, interrupting his self-destructive thoughts, running, brushing past Fireheart affectionately. Fireheart purred, embracing the contact.
Graystripe placed his forehead on fireheart's
"Thank you for looking after my kits." He whispered.
"It's no problem. You're lucky you're such a furball. Just understand that you will be the one bringing me fresh kill. Every morning of every day, and if you don't, I'll eat the kits instead" he joked whispering a little, a murr of laughter rolling in this throat, brushing past his mate lovingly.
With that, he picked up the vole and mouse, and headed back to the nursery where Goldenflower was feeding the kits.
Pushing through the the entrance, he placed the vole at the queen's paws and then stared at his adopted kits, who were feeding with zeal.
"Thank you, Fireheart" She meowed.
But he was barely listening. He had taken the kits to Yellowfang earlier today.
'They're small, cold and desperately feeble, even for kits. You'll have to keep a watchful eye on them' she'd said, but looking now, he didn't think that they'd have much of a problem with them, well not until they're old enough the cause trouble. In truth, he was certain that they'd be a duty that he'd undertake and he would complete it, but the more he looked on, the more he realized that he was quite taken with them and wondered how the rest of the clan felt. Do they all feel like they might just die for them?
Though, as he stared at the kits, he felt a worm of envy at having a whole clan to look after them. Fireheart found himself wishing that he had his mother to cause mischief around, but his twolegs had gotten rid of him so soon that he never even really knew his mother.
He quickly stopped himself when he realized that he was frowning, and that the queen was staring at him strangely.
"Oh uh, ahem. No problem." He quickly replied to her thanks, before laying down in his nest that Brackenpaw had built at the order of Whitestorm.
"So how are they?" He asked, twisting his head to look her way.
"They're beautiful and strong. You don't have anything to worry about. I promise if there is anything wrong, you'll be the first to know." She purred out a chuckle.

He stared out of the nursery entrance and realized that the sun had gone down, and the camp was in darkness.
Featherkit lay in the curve of his belly in a tight bundle, while Stormkit curled up in the crook of his shoulder, stretched out, paws wrapped around his foreleg. It was so strange to be here.
When he joined the clan, he never even pictured that there would come a day where he would have kits. Yet, now here he is, his first of many days in the nursery for queens. He would be lying to himself if said he didn't feel his pelt prickle with embarrassment when other cats saw him there. He had to bite his tongue to refrain from snapping at Longtail when he passed by the nursery but stopped to stare for a moment, as though it were a spectacle.

Graystripe, you so owe me. He thought to himself. But as he stared at the tiny bodies, everything seemed to fade away, and their rhythmic breathing slowly put him to sleep. He knew that he wasn't just doing this for Graystripe.
He lay his head down, his muzzle pressed against Stormkit, and fell into an easy sleep.

Morning came quickly and he sat up and gave himself a clean. But something felt odd. Empty and cold. Looking down, realized with a jolt that the kits were not there. He sat up quickly, and did I quick panicked circle, trying to spot if they'd fell out. Nowhere. They were gone. He hurried out of the nest yowling, but to no avail. No one could hear him. He dashed straight out of the camp, into the forest. He was running through in a blind panic, when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a faint glow, and skidded to a stop. It was coming from the training hollow.
He pushed through the brush, ignoring thorns that pricked his skin.
There was a Dark smoke-gray tom with his kits at his paws.
"Who are you and why do you have those kits?" Fireheart growled, digging his claws into the ground, the fur on his shoulders prickling.
"My name is Gray wing. I am here simply as a SrarClan messenger, and I've come for a very simple reason." he finished, looking down at the kits.

So this cat was StarClan? Fireheart shook his head. Right then that wasn't the important part, in fact he couldn't care if this cat was from LionClan.
"So what is it then?" He asked, his head bowed slightly, paying the StarClan Warrior his begrudging respect.
"I've simply come to ask you a question. One simple question. You may love these kits, this may be you showing the one you love how far you're willing to go for them. But is this really what you want?"
Is this really what I want? What a stupid question. But the more Fireheart thought about it, the more he started understanding the weight of the question. Was this really how he wanted to spend his youth? As a parent, when he could be out in the forest, hunting and patrolling, fighting and climbing.
"Fireheart" Gray wings words snapped him out of his deep thought.
"There is no right or wrong answer. All I'm asking is that you take this seriously and really decide if this is what you want. Now, I'll let you get back to your dreaming"
And with that, the kits scampered to his side, and as they reached him, a flash of light went through his mind, and he was suddenly reminded of the prophecy. Suddenly, there was so much more to consider than if he just wanted the kits. But as fast as it appeared, it was gone, and so were the kits, as well as everything else, and surprisingly, he was blessed with a dreamless rest of the night.

He woke early the next day. The first day of six moons waking up in the confines of the milky scented nursery. This time, he could feel the silver bundle of fur at his belly, and a dark gray muzzle in his face, both fast asleep. He sighed relief.

He lifted his head carefully so as to not disturb them, and then stared around at the silver bundle, and then back at the dark gray one, who's muzzle had relocated to his foreleg. This was so foreign to him. Nothing about what he was doing felt natural, and yet, he couldn't imagine it any other way.
He felt a rush of affection well up in him, and he started cleaning Stormkit, seeing as he made it the easiest to reach. He whimpered and tried to swipe at Fireheart, but that's hard to do when you haven't opened your eyes yet. Fireheart just purred and continued long strokes along his back, and watched Goldenflower stare at him with a smile, from the corner of his eye.
How could he even consider abandoning them. He decided quickly. These were the kits of his mate, making them his by affiliation.

He would love and raise these kits like Silverstream would've done. A mother didn't have to be a she cat, a mother is a parent who loves you unconditionally and treats you as family, and he'd be their mother as best as he could.
No stupid prophecy is going to get in the way o that.