Chapter Twenty-Six

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Rowanpaw watched little Hopekit struggle through her nest, fluffy ginger fur still thick with kit fluff. Her eyes, barely even open, glowed the normal kit blue, full of wonder and excitement of life, despite knowing nothing. Emberheart leaned down, licking her daughter's lightly striped head.

"She'll be great, don't you think?" Emberheart's mew was soft and loving.

"Definitely," Rowanpaw answered, as Primkit and Meadowkit went racing past, mewling in excitement as they pounced into their nest, tackling each other, pawing in happiness and fulfillment of life. "She'll be one of the greatest warriors."

"What about me?" Bluekit waddled over, unsteady on her young paws, but growing stronger every day. Breamkit and Bramblekit, her brothers, were tussling softly at Ashbreeze's strong side, her fur smooth and lush, much like Emberheart's glowing frame.

"Well, you'll be one of the best, little kit." Rowanpaw leaned down and nuzzled her kindly. "Go on back to your mother." He nudged her that way.

As she waddled back, Ashbreeze licked her kit's ear before picking her up softly by her scruff and settling her down by her brothers. Instantly, they squealed in excitement and attacked her. "Go easy on her, she's smaller than you."

Another cat entered the small nursery, brown fur glowing. Rowanpaw purred at the sight of her, and her yellow eyes glowed. She likely would've greeted him, except that she had a large, plump mouse in her jaws. She dropped it by his paws, then greeted, "I caught it myself!"

"Good catch!" Rowanpaw purred, unable to stop staring at her eyes. Something felt... wrong. It felt like he hadn't seen her in moons.

"You okay, Rowanpaw?" she asked, tilting her head.

After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, just feeling a little sad, but I don't know why."

"Alright, feather-brain," she meowed with amusement, then looked around at the queens. "Do any of you need any prey?"

"I just ate a little ago," Ashbreeze answered happily.

"And I shared a sparrow and half a finch with Rainsong," Emberheart meowed, looking at her friend with enjoyment. The queen, currently nursing a tired Flintkit, nodded in agreement.

"Great!" The young she-cat dropped to her stomach with a dramatic sigh. "I've been dying to get some rest." She pulled the mouse toward her, sniffing at to find the juiciest part.

But Rowanpaw felt something weird in his chest. "Don't joke like that," he said, a little fiercely.

"What?" The she-cat raised her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Don't joke about things like that. About dying."

Sparkkit looked at him curiously. "Um... Alright."

Then Rowanpaw realized something. "You said you caught this? How?"

She looked confused. "Well, I hunted it. Do you think it ran under my paws?"

"But, you're a kit..."

"Hey, rude!" She pushed at his shoulder, then seemed to realize his expression. "Rowanpaw, I'm almost ten moons old. Why wouldn't I be an apprentice?"

"But... You're not. You're only five..." Then, a scream cut through his head, along with the sound of a rushing storm. He was still staring at Sparkkit, but all he could see inside his head was her body, falling from the tree then slamming down onto the ground. He could remember the fallen tree, dragging her body into the small cover near its roots that had been pulled free from the ground. He had seen the last breath fade from her tiny, starving body, her gaze clouding.

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