Hello Sunshine, Hello Sky

"The following story is NON-CANON, an AU, and is rated MODERATE." "SkyClan ficlets! requests are open :>"

Cherrytail
Cherrytail had been feeling all too depressed lately. Between her recurring nightmares being full of rats and foxes now, she couldn't catch so much as a feather. For a while she just laid on the grass, thrush's feather in her claws. Sparrowpelt and Rabbitleap, also on the patrol, looked down at her pitifully though didn't offer help. So Cherrytail came back to the gorge empty-pawed and retired straight to the warriors den as a drizzle started to coat her pelt.

And she laid. Sleep was pulling heavy on her eyes but she knew if she closed them she'd be yowling and panicking again within seconds.

"Hey, Cherrytail?" called a voice she faintly recognized.

She sat up a bit. "Ebonyclaw?"

The she-cat nodded, picking up a fat squirrel. The moss under her collar was dry and her bell jingled with every step, not that any napping warrior she stepped over noticed.

As Ebonyclaw laid down beside her, pushing the squirrel in her direction, Cherrytail sighed and pressed her muzzle into Ebonyclaw's thick neck fur.

Ebonyclaw smiled and took a bite from its stomach, "Echosong told me the good news," she mewed, mouth full.

"What good news?" Cherrytail echoed, crunching the squirrels skull before taking her own bite.

"She didn't tell you?"

"No."

"A few days ago, whenever you went in to her den sick? She didn't tell you?"

"No!" Cherrytail giggled, slowly rising back up.

"You're expecting kits, Cherrytail," she whispered, "And I… I figured they were mine."

Cherrytail felt like her heart was about to burst. Any trace of sadness was gone as soon as the words left her mates mouth.

"Really?" she whispered.

"Yeah!" Ebonyclaw mewed, then her expression shifted, "Do you… want them?"

"...truthfully I didn't expect them so soon, but," she airily laughed, "They're ours. I love them so much already."

She purred heavily and pressed their noses together. Ebonyclaw stood up for a moment to toss out the prey's bones, then laid right back down beside Cherrytail. Cherrytail could nearly taste her breath they laid so close.

"Hey, Cherrytail?" Ebonyclaw whispered.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Cherrytail purred, "I love you too."

Petalfall
Petalpaw heard Whitewhisker and Fennelstar talking softly in his den. She'd been waiting there a long time, waiting for one to pause so she may enter. Until, finally, her patience was rewarded and she ducked her head through the ferns.

"Fennelstar? May I come in?" it took her eyes much longer to adjust to the darkness than the average Skyclan cat's.

"Petalpaw?" mewed Fennelstar, Petalpaw finally seeing the toms were curled into eachother. Whitewhisker got up with a start, "Yes, come in, dearie."

She nodded and sat right at the small entrance, curling her tail over her paws and dipping her head respectfully.

"What is it?" asked Whitewhisker, as blunt as his whiskers.

"Well, you see," she mewed quietly. She'd prepared and replayed this conversation so many times in her head, she wouldn't let herself get nervous. "I had a… suggestion for my warrior name. I overheard Flypaw's mentor say she was running out of things to teach him, and we  are  the same age."

"Petalpaw," mewed Whitewhisker, making Petalpaw dip her head further and force herself to keep her fur flat as she prepared for the worst, "Every apprentice dreams of what their warrior name will be. Warrior names are specially chosen by a leader to represent what are your finest skills."

Fennelstar slightly nodded and Petalpaw defeatedly prepared to leave, but Fennelstar said something else.

"Yes. But tell me anyway, Petalpaw."

Petalpaw's heart just started beating faster, and she lost all her composure in attempt to calm herself.

"Oh, um- uh- I w-was thinking-" she sputtered out, taking a deep breath in and out several times just like Twigtail and his apprentice had taught her to do after her seizures. "Petalfall."

Both of the toms eyes widened, Fennelstar's light fur stood up and Whitewhisker straightened.

" Petalfall?" repeated Fennelstar, "Don't you think it's cruel? Naming yourself after… that part of you?"

Petalpaw nearly bristled herself. She knew Fennelstar wanted to call it the  weakest  part of her, the  worst  part of her.

She blinked, "Twigtail has a bend in his tail and was named after it. And my guide was named Oddfoot, he had his foot twisted in!"

Fennelstar blinked, "But Petalpaw your… your falling sickness is debilitating! And if you go into battle with the name  Petalfall  everyone will know of your biggest…"

"Cats can't suddenly make me have a seizure," she spat back, "And I think Petalfall would tell them about it, and yet here I am, proving I am more than that!"

Fennelstar stared at her for a long time, neither toms saying anything. Until, finally, the two cast a glance at eachother and Fennelstar sighed.

"Go to bed, Petalpaw," was all he said. Petalpaw, defeated, did as she was told.

(...)

Petalpaw was sitting beside the white-and-black tom. Flypaw, recently named Flyheart, was bounding with excitement, but Petalpaw not so much. It was her warrior ceremony, and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed for the request she had made.

"I, Fennelstar, leader of Skyclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Petalpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?

Petalpaw dipped her head, more in fear than respect. "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Petalpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Petalfall."

Squirrelfur
Phoenix panted and stopped, involuntary falling onto his haunches. He was terrified. He was running into the forest to escape his awful housefolk. He didn't know where else to go, he was too scared other housefolk would hurt him more. Then again, he was just as scared that the kittentales his mother had told him about the nature-named cats who ate skin and bones were real.

Hearing the dark bushes around him rustle and hearing a faint speech didn't help.

"I scent something, dad." mewed a high-voiced cat.

"What is it?" came a gruffer, deeper voice.

"Smells like cat," he went on, crunching a twig, "But not like forest."

"Mothpaw, watch where you're going, a twig snap could alert it!" he sighed, "I think that'd be kittypet."

"Kittypet?"

"Yes. Pampered little Twoleg cats who do nothing but lay in the sun and get pellets of dirt shoved in their mouth."

" Euck!  What self-respecting cat eats  dirt?!"

Then they emerged, stepping into the sunny spot. Phoenix realized he had no place to hide. He also realized that Mothpaw couldn't be very much older than him, but his father looked strong, full-grown, and angry. Mothpaw's eyes widened at him, though his father wasn't paying attention, sniffing around the trees. Mothpaw stepped closer.

"Hi! What's your name-" he shook his head, "No! I mean, this is Skyclan territory, rogue, get lost!"

Phoenix shook his head pathetically and looked around. Nature, nature, nature. He spotted a squirrel climbing up a maple tree and decided to take his chances.

"Squirrel! My name is Squirrel."

Mothpaw nodded and his eyes glittered, "Well, hello, Squirrel!"

" Mothpaw!" scolded his father, squinting in the direction of Squirrel's-  Phoenix's? No, I'm not a kittypet anymore-  tags. "Don't talk to that, that's a kittypet!"

"Oh…" he said, defeatedly. He fluffed up his neck and bared his teeth. "Run, kittypet, before I claw your throat out!"

"That's it, son!"

Squirrel let out a breath, "I'm sorry, sirs, I-I can't… move," he looked down at his pathetic hind legs, one was bent strangely near his foot. "I'm running from my housefolk, please, they'll hurt me, please help."

Mothpaw's father shook his head, "No. Leave."

"Dad…" Mothpaw said quietly, flattening his ears and staring at Squirrel's bent leg before turning to his father, "He's hurt."

"I don't care, Mothpaw, he is outside the warrior code and it is not our job to help them. Come on," he mewed before heading off.

"Hang on, I think I heard a stray rabbit!" Mothpaw flattened his ears and turned back to Squirrel. "I'm sorry for Beechstar," he said quietly, "Do you think you can move enough to get under this bush?" he headed toward a lighter-leaved one, about the same color as Squirrel's collar. "It's soft."

Squirrel heaved and panted, straining to stand and drag his hurt leg. He carefully crouched and climbed into the bush, straining his hips to move his broken leg. Mothpaw nodded, "Wait here. I'll bring Robinpaw at sunset."

Squirrel nodded and shut his eyes. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he eventually heard Mothpaw drop some sort of bird at his jaws before scampering off. Squirrel had never been allowed to eat birds before and, cautiously and nervously, he pricked off the feathers near the breast and took a small bite. It tasted nothing like his pellets and he wasn't sure if it was better or worse, but he managed to eat the entire thing before dozing off again.

(...)

"Squirrel… Squirrel…!"

Squirrel tiredly opened his eyes. Mothpaw's black-and-brown dappled face stood, crouched, in front of him. Behind him sat the striking ginger cat Squirrel assumed was Robinpaw.

"Squirrel?" Robinpaw mewed, "What Twoleg names their pet Squirrel?"

Mothpaw shrugged, "Come on, let's help him back to camp, one of his legs is messed up."

Robinpaw nodded, nudging one of Squirrel's shoulders up. Mothpaw helped balance Squirrel on his other side, outside of the bush. Robinpaw's fur was softer and thicker than Mothpaw's, and if he wasn't on Squirrel's hurt side, he would've leaned that way.

The three cats padded through the forest, dark red and orange with the sunset. Eventually they stopped and faced a bramble-wove tunnel.

"Oh," mewed Mothpaw, "I, uh, forgot. Our entrance is brambles."

"Squirrel's fur feels pretty thick," Robinpaw mewed, "I think he can make it."

"Yeah, but I don't know if his leg can."

"I'll try, Mothpaw," Squirrel mewed, stepping forward and crouching down.

Mothpaw blinked, "How do you know my name…?"

Squirrel said nothing, slowly scooting down the tunnel. He could faintly see cats around, laughing and talking and eating. As soon as his head was out of the tunnel, they all steadily froze, silenced, and turned. He couldn't bare to use his hind legs anymore, so he didn't. Robinpaw and Mothpaw, ears flat to their heads, came in after him.

Beechstar rushed over and immediately started yowling, "Mothpaw! What is  this?  A  kittypet?  And Robinpaw, you helped!? Honestly, I expected better from the both of you!"

"Beechstar," called an old light-furred tom. Beechstar slowly turned around.

" Rainsplash?"

"This kitten is injured, Beechstar," mewed Rainsplash, "Let him get healed. He may prove to be a good warrior."

Beechstar flattened his ears, "Fine. But if you mess up once, you are out of this clan. What's your name?"

"Squirrel."

"Squirrel… fine. The medicine den is the one covered in broom."

Mothpaw and Robinpaw led him over, Mothpaw nearly bouncing on his paws.

"You're gonna be Squirrelpaw! We're gonna be warriors together!"

Squirrel couldn't help smiling at the tom's enthusiasm.

Flystar
Flyheart heaved, and with one last strain, his head fell to the ground panting. He was exhausted. All of his fatherly instincts were telling him to bring his freshly queened kit to his stomach before he drowned in his tail or died of starvation. The thought of this innocent little child not even old enough to see the world dying hurt his heart just enough to carefully grab him and bring him forward.

He faintly remembered Quailfeather saying it was important for kittens to use their motor skills from the second they were born, so Flyheart, cautiously, set down the kit a kittenstep from a teat. He squirmed around a bit, mewling, and Flyheart deperately wanted to help him along, but before he could the kit squirmed against his paw and suckled onto him. Flyheart felt his heart soar.

His next instinct told him to lick the kit backward and warm him up, and tired as he was, went through with it. Satisfied, he looked at the little kit. His back was completely light blue, everywhere else was white. Oh, he's beautiful.

Flyheart was always nervous about the kit. He'd secretly asked Quailfeather to check him out once every few sunrises, but no one else in the clan knew. Not even his fathers, Whitewhisker and Fennelstar. He'd been wondering if he should let it slip for the two moons he carried the kit and now, that the kitten was in the world…

He couldn't become a rogue for six months, Skyclan would never forgive him- he was  deputy  for Starclan's sake! Scared as he was, he had to take the kit back… worst case scenario, Hawksnow could nurse him alongside his triplets. No, that wasn't the worst case scenario, worst case scenario-

No! No, if you think it, it'll happen!

He sighed. He could never forgive himself if he let Hawksnow raise his child. The kit's other father was gone. Flyheart couldn't let himself do the same to him. Too small. Too sweet.

The kit wasn't even as tall as the grass around him. He was so, so small. Smaller than Hawksnow's. He wanted to protect this kit with every fiber of his being.

Flyheart supposed he should name the kit. Hawksnow had named his Birdkit, Fawnkit and Fernkit. No theme… oh, he didn't know what to do. Hawksnow, Starlingfeather and Fennelstar would help, he thought. Well, now or never, he'd convinced himself to go back.

"Come on, little one, we're going for a walk," he mewed, pretending the kitten could hear him. He picked up the kit, hurting his heart as he yowled his loudest.

He carefully made his way back to camp, careful to keep the squirming and kicking kit from swinging. He ducked the kit into his neck and stuck out his front legs, carefully keeping him from hitting the ground or the brambles. Flyheart didn't give the camp time to realize he was holding a kitten before ducking into the nursery and laying down on a spot beside Hawksnow, putting the kit back at his stomach. The dirt there wasn't very hard or cold, it  was  greenleaf, but it certainly wasn't moss-soft.

Hawksnow blinked at him. "Flyheart?" he mewed, "Is that a kit? And is that really you, suckling it?"

Flyheart nodded tiredly.

"I-I never realized," he went on softly, "You always were a rather chubby cat, no offense. And that is a rather small kitten…"

"I know it," Flyheart mewed back just as Starlingfeather arrived, just as shocked as Hawksnow. "I don't know what to name him."

"Well, let's see," Hawksnow said as Starlingfeather headed back out, presumably to grab Flyheart's father. "You could go Snowkit or Stormkit, maybe Dovekit or Quailkit. Or maybe just go simple old Cloudkit."

Flyheart nodded. "Yes. I like that."

Then the ferns of the nursery crinkled as Starlingfeather stepped inside, curling around his mate and kits, licking a white spot on Hawksnow's face. Fennelstar gasped as his gaze crossed Flyheart and his kit.

"Fl-Flyheart?"

"H-hi, dad," he mewed quietly, "I'd like you to meet your grandson, Cloudkit."

Oddfoot
Oddfoot never expected he'd be a father. Not even as his little kit suckled as his stomach did he think he would ever be a father.

He knew something would be wrong with his kit. He was deaf in one of his ears, he had a hard time talking and he was born with his foot twisted inward. His mother was cruel enough to name him Oddkit because of it. He didn't plan on giving his son the same treatment.

"His name will be Twigkit," he mewed to Morningmist, the molly who stayed in the nursery and helped with births and rearing kittens.

Morningmist nodded, "Is that for his bent tail?"

Oddfoot took another look at his white-and-brown beauty. He hadn't even noticed the two little dips in his brown tail. Oddfoot shook his head angrily. He would not carry on his mother's legacy.

"He is fairy skinny," he mewed, trying to keep from yowling out his frustrations, "Especially his tail. His tail is skinny and brown, you know, Twigkit."

Morningmist nodded, satisfied. Oddfoot placed a lick to his tiny kit's head before drifting into sleep himself.

(...)

Of all things, Oddfoot never expected his kit to be blind. He expected him to be deaf like he was. He expected him to have a hard time at talking like he did. No, it seemed Twigkit- Twigpaw, as he had been for the last many months- had traded out his eyes for two working ears and a voice box so functional Oddfoot was sure it took up all of his throat.

"Dad, dad!" called his chatterbox of a son, rushing over from the entrance tunnel and into the moonlit clearing. His white fur seemed even brighter. He skidded on his paws and laid beside Oddfoot in front of the empty elder's den, running his head under Oddfoot's chin and purring.

"Hi, son."

"I heard lots of news at the Moonstone tonight!" he mewed enthusiastically, and Oddfoot was sure if he broke his very strict eyes-closed policy, they'd be as bright and starry as the sky above.

"Okay?" Oddfoot responded, laugh lighting his voice. "Did Hazelwillow hear the same?"

"Yes, yes!" he exclaimed, "It was from the other clans!"

"Mhm?"

"Yeah! Wait, do you know the other medicine cat's names?"

"Nope."

"Oh. Well, Windclan said that they had a new, huge litter of kits! Five! Can you believe it? And their leader lost a life! And then Riverclan said that-"

"Twig…" Oddfoot mewed softly, "I don't know much about being a medicine cat, but I thought the knowledge you learned there was meant to be kept secret."

"Oh…" he said back, defeatedly. His voice quickly picked up again, "But it's so hard to keep it all quiet!"

Oddfoot let out a mrrow of laughter. "I'll show you a way to get it out first thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Thanks, dad!"

"Anytime, Twigpaw."

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "My name's not Twigpaw anymore!"

Oddfoot felt his heart both soar and sink. He was praying his hardest he didn't get named something about his blindness. He voiced himself to keep his voice steady.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so proud of you! Well, speak up, son, what were your virtues?"

"Charisma and spirit!"

"That's my boy!" Oddfoot growled a purr and rubbed their cheeks together. "Now, what's your name!"

"Twigtail!"

There it was. Oddfoot's heart sunk. Named after his bends.

"Now, dad," he said, voice more quiet and serious, "I know you don't like the thought of me being named after my tail. But I really like my name! And you're my biggest role model!"

Oddfoot blinked and felt his heart return to its place, no further. "...huh?"

"Yeah!" he said happily, "Your name is Oddfoot, but you're so much more than your odd foot! You're one of the best warriors in Skyclan, I heard Rowanstar say so!"

Oddfoot blinked. Rowanstar said he was the best warrior in the clan and Twigtail looked up to his estranged father. He felt his entire body heat up and felt his chest fill with feathers.

"Oh, Twigtail," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice from breaking, "That means so much. Thank you. I love you."

"I love you too, dad! Hey, can I sleep next to you in the warrior's den tonight?"

"Of course, Twiggie."

Twigtail
"Dad! Dad, dad, dad!"

" Mrgh….  What?"

Twigtail would've rolled his eyes. "Come on! You promised to show me how to get secrets out last night!"

"Yeah, yeah…" Oddfoot rolled over onto his stomach, using his shorter leg to lift the rest of his body. He shook his head and yawned, blinking, eyes still heavy with sleep. He looked past Twigtail and then around the den. "Starclan, it's hardly even dawn."

Twigtail nodded enthusiastically. Oddfoot sighed, cautiously leading Twigtail over the sleeping warriors. He closed his eyes tight in the cold sunlight of the camp. Without a word to Rowanstar and the gathering dawn patrol, the two times headed out. Twigtail was pressed close to Oddfoot.

"Where are he going?" he chirped.

"Down by the river."

"Oh," he mewed quietly, "Do you think Riverclan will try to fight us?"

"Riverclan knows better to attack a medicine cat," he purred a laugh, "It's still our shoreline. We'll be fine."

Twigtail nodded and stopped when Oddfoot told him to.

"There's a shell in front of you," he mewed calmingly, "Do you feel it?"

Twigtail carefully reached out and felt around. Soon enough his paw landed on a small, cold, ridged thing that came to a point at the end.

"Is this a shell?"

"Yes."

"It feels pretty." He crouched down, touching the swirly shell with his whiskers so he wouldn't lose it. "Now what?"

"Now you whisper your secrets into it."

Twigtail nodded and did so. He whispered everything, careful to make sure Oddfoot wouldn't hear. Once he was finished, he sat back up with a paw on the shell.

"Did I do it?"

"Not yet," Oddfoot stepped closer and tapped Twigtail's hips with his tail, coaxing him to stand. "Pick up the shell."

Twigtail did so, carefully. He expected it to be a bit smaller and less covered with gritty sand, but he held it by the shorter side tightly but carefully in his jaws. Oddfoot nodded approvingly. He spoke softly, carefully luring Twigtail to step into a shallow part of the river. The cold water flowed past quickly, and if Oddfoot wasn't standing behind him, Twigtail was sure it would drag him away.

Oddfoot used his muzzle to nudge Twigtail's head upward a bit, then turned him ever so slightly.

"Alright, good. Now, Twigtail, throw that shell as far as you can!"

Twigtail shut his eyes tighter cautiously. He was nervous he'd end up hitting a cat square in the forehead on either side. Nevertheless, he tried, twisting his head and releasing the shell. It landed with a pathetic  thiwp! and Twigtail was sure it didn't go very far.

"Nice job!" encouraged Oddfoot, purring and rubbing their cheeks together. Twigtail smiled. "Do you feel better, now?"

Twigtail nodded enthusiastically. Oddfoot purred.

"Great. Now I'm going back to bed."

Twigtail would've rolled his eyes. " Daaad!"

Dewstar
Dewheart purred. Her precious little bundles were safe and warm at her belly, snoring quietly with milk-full bellies and a tale about how their father was watching them proudly in Starclan. They all had strange blood-red pelts.

Wait.

Two of the kittens were gone, turned into pools of blood. The one left behind was screaming in agony, covered in blood. Its eyes weren't open and it's ears weren't popped, it's mouth wasn't moving but a scream came out.

No. That was Dewheart screaming. She reached out a shaky paw to try and pull the kit closer, to lick it clean of the blood and clean its pelt and give it a wonderful name. But when she hovered over the kit, it all turned to moss. Dewheart sighed and shook, burying her muzzle in her paws and sobbing as she remembered.

She was told she was going to have three kits. She tripped over a root and fell into the river and bled out two of them. When the time came to birth the one remaining, it came out dead. Drowned and covered in its sibling's blood. Dewheart knew it wasn't her fault, that there wasn't anything she could do, but she so desperately wished she was strong enough to save her kits whenever they needed her protection most.

"Dewheart," called a voice she hardly recognized. She felt leaves brush against her muzzle and paws and slowly looked up. Spiderpelt was crouched near her, he nodded back at the entrance and Maplestar stepped forward, a tiny little bundle in her jaws.

Dewheart felt her heart skip, she ate the borage leaves as fast as she could, cursing chewing and trying to swallow full chunks. She pressed her ears to her head as he chewed in desperation, Maplestar placing the kit to her stomach and licking it backward.

Eventually Dewheart ate and the kit nipped at her stomach. She stared for a few seconds, staring at the tiny bundle. She was brown all over save for a plumey, thick neck not unlike Dewheart's. She felt a purr rise in her throat and she bend around to nuzzle the kit.

"Cruel, isn't it?" mewed Spiderpelt after several seconds, "That a mother could just leave her child under a tree for a fox to eat?"

Maplestar shook her head, "Rogues work alone, Spiderpelt, I don't figure she had anyone to watch it."

"But how devastating. You're trying to hunt so your kits to eat, you come back to find your kit gone and covered in fox scent."

"Well, thank Starclan this one's mother abandoned it. I mean, that isn't good, but at least her mother will never have to deal with it."

"Is that why she doesn't smell of cat or milk?" Dewheart butted in quietly, gaze caught on the sweet little kitten.

Spiderpelt nodded, "Yes, thank Starclan we found it before a predator could."

"And thank Starclan we had a queen!" Maplestar said with a laugh. Dewheart purred.

"What an innocent little thing," she said softly, "What mother would leave you…?" She purred, curling her tail over the kitten, "No matter. I'm your mother now, and I'll protect you with every fiber of my being."

"She's a beaut, too," Maplestar mewed, "What strange patterning for a tortoiseshell. All her red is in that mane of hers."

"She looks just like a robin, doesn't she?" asked Spiderpelt with a laugh.

Dewheart nodded and purred. "Yes, I think Robinkit will do her nice."

Mothpelt
Mothpelt purred quietly, licking his stomach. It hadn't been long enough to it to be obviously large, but it certainly was strange on his twig-thin stature. Both Squirrelfur and Robinflight were out hunting, and he knew he'd be back soon. Beechstar was asleep in his den and, impulsively, Mothpelt figured he'd tell him the good news.

He stuck his head through the ferns under the thorn tree, seeing Beechstar curled up in his bed, asleep.

"Beechstar? Are you awake?"

Beechstar made an uncomfortable noise and turned his drowsy head around. Soon after realizing it was Mothpelt, Beechstar's eyes brightened.

"Son! What is it?"

Mothpelt entered the den, laying down beside him. "I have some good news! I'm expecting kits."

Beechstar's expression dropped. "Y-you're expecting kits?" Mothpelt nodded. Beechstar sighed, "Mothpelt… I didn't just let you become a tom for you to become a queen."

Mothpelt flattened his ears to his head. "...what? I thought all new warriors were good."

Beechstar shook his head and sighed again, gruffly, "Fine. Who's the other father?"

"Squirrelfur!"

Beechstar's eyes dulled and he bared his teeth, "You convince me to let a kittypet into the clan, then you convince me you're going to have kits- but for you to mate with a kittypet? Mothpelt, I expected better from you!"

Mothpelt pressed his ears flat to his head, "But Squirrelfur is part of the clan now, what should blood matter? He's a warrior!"

"Once a kittypet, always a kittypet!" Beechstar snapped, "Couldn't you've had Robinflight's! You two are always hanging around eachother!"

Mothpelt decided it was best for him to leave before he did something he would regret. He saw Robinflight and Squirrelfur drop birds at the fresh-kill pile and Mothpelt headed toward them. He buried his face into Squirrelfur's pelt, whimpering quietly.

(...)

Beechstar never visited his granddaughter, not even when Mothpelt was screaming loud enough Shadowclan could hear giving birth to her. Mothpelt was panting on Squirrelfur's paws, and the tom was licking his ears. Robinflight laid on one of Mothpelt's legs.

When Mothpelt finally managed to gain his breath, he weakly mewed, "Robinflight… I'd like you to name the kit."

Robinflight let out a light purr, "Oh, I don't know. I'm thinking another bird, since we've already got a flight thing going on."

Squirrelfur nodded for him to go on. Robinflight rolled his gray eyes and looked down at the kitten. She was white all over, save for the top half of her head, half her back, and front legs, save for her paws.

"...Hawkkit," Robinflight mewed quietly.

"Hawkkit?" Mothpelt repeated, "Why?"

Robinflight shrugged, "Her patches kinda look like wings, and they are brown."

Squirrelfur purred, licking Mothpelt's ear again. "You like Hawkkit, Mothpelt?"

"I do."

Hawkstar
Hawkstar always hated Riverclan.

He hated Riverclan the day they took his grandfather. He hated Riverclan the day they took his father. He hated Riverclan the day they took Dewstar.

And he hated Riverclan now, watching its warriors turn the water pink with blood splatter.

Hawkstar hissed, snapping his head around and pulling Ivystripe off his back by a paw. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Reedstar holding down Robinheart's head in the water. He felt rage fill his body and he leaped hard into the fluffy dark tom. Reedstar hissed and spat, clawing at Hawkstar's shoulders.

Then, suddenly, Hawkstar felt one slash dive into his neck.

He heard his heart beat in his ears and knew he couldn't let Reedstar get away with this. Yowling and leaning down, he bit hard into his neck. Until, finally, both toms took their last breaths and the battle stopped as they realized.

When Hawkstar opened his eyes again, he wasn't in bloody water. He was laying in a meadow, with clean, perfect climbing trees he could hardly see the tops off. He smiled and wiggles his hindquarters, ready to have the time of his life. Before he could, someone spoke.

"...son?"

Hawkstar shot around, "Dad?"

Mothpelt's eyes lit up, "Hawkie!"

Hawkstar rushed over purring, rubbing his head under Mothpelt's chin.

"Did you see me dad? I avenged you!"

Mothpelt blinked, "...you what?"

"I killed Reedstar! He was about to drown Robinheart-  Robinstar-  and I killed him. Skyclan won the war with Riverclan, and it was in your honor!"

Mothpelt blinked, his fur standing on end a moment. Hawkstar's expression shifted. Mothpelt shut his eyes tight, shaking his head slowly. Hawkstar assumed he was remembering his own father's death to Riverclan.

"Hawkstar…" he spoke softly, loosening the grip on his eyes, "Sometimes it's better to forgive someone rather than get revenge on them. If either of us had known that, we'd still be alive."

Hawkstar blinked and flattened his ears. Maybe he  had  been blinded by rage. Maybe that  was  an impulsive action. He nodded quietly.

"Whenever Robinstar comes to get her lives, I think I'll give her one for forgiveness."

Mothpelt smiled and blinked open his eyes, "I don't think she'll need to learn that."

Skystar
Skystar always wanted another shot at raising a son well.

He'd lost Thunderstar and regretted it deeply, and even in Starclan the two hardly spoke. Then Tiny Branch had died and once Skystar joined him in Starclan he'd grown up all on his own. He loved Dew Petal and Flower Foot as much as any father could, but he still felt the need to make it up.

"Hey, Skystar," mewed Sparrowstar, "Skyclan tom was born recently, looks just like you."

Skystar perked up a bit. "How recently? Can he hear?"

Sparrowstar nodded a bit, "He's just learning to speak."

Skystar nodded, padding away toward the edge of Starclan and leaping down gently. As soon as he landed in the center of the Skyclan camp, four little kittens tumbled through his paws. Skystar sat on his haunches and let them roll through, not quite remembering that they couldn't feel him.

Skystar watched them quietly. Three were she-kits he figured were all from the same litter, the youngest was the tomkit that Sparrowstar had been speaking about. The oldest of the three sisters was the darkest brown tabby, the youngest pale brown and white, the middle a fair mix of her siblings.

"Drop that prey, nasty fox!" yowled the middle sister, tumbling over her rounder older sister. The tomkit promptly leaped on the pile, but the youngest sister picked up the moss they were using as prey and shot across camp.

"Yes!" squeaked the tom, "Good job, Fawnkit!"

Fawnkit let out a chirp and came back, dropping the moss as the dogpile dispersed. A dark ginger tabby tom, one ear still not popped, wobbly came over.

"Can I play!" he squeaked.

"No!" said the tomkit, "If we let you Flyheart will just scold us for hurting you!"

The young kitten frowned as the group ran off again, Fawnkit as their fox. Skystar quietly wrapped his tail around the kit. He thought Fircone would like to guide him.

Skystar watched until the sun set and their parents gathered the protesting yet sleepy kits into the nursery. Skystar sat close to the blue-and-white kit, sleeping next to the dark ginger tabby. When Skystar was sure he was asleep or was about to be, he pressed his nose to a little ear and entered his dream.

They were together in one of Starclan's meadows, the kitten looking around with wide, blue eyes, not yet realizing Skystar was there. When he did, he jumped a bit, but strut right up. Skystar smiled.

"Hello kitten," he mewed, trying his hardest to be soft, "What's your name?"

"Cloudkit!" he squeaked, "What are you doing on Skyclan territory!"

Skystar let out a  mrrow  of laughter, "Cloudkit, you're on  my  territory. This is Starclan." Cloudkit's eyes lit up. "Would you like to come on a walk with me, Cloudkit?"

Cloudkit gave one big nod, closing his eyes. Skystar smiled to himself and flicked his tail for the kitten to follow.

"I saw you playing earlier with your littermates-"

"Oh, they aren't my littermates," Cloudkit interrupted, "Well, Buzzardkit sorta is… Papa's nursing him because Starlingfeather found him alone in the woods and you're supposed to help all kits in danger!"

Skystar nodded, "What's your papa's name, Cloudkit?"

"Flyheart! He's Fennelstar's son!"

Skystar nodded. Yes, he faintly remembered watching over Fennelstar's life-giving ceremony.

"Hey!" Cloudkit squeaked, "Who  are  you!"

"My name is Skystar, I founded your clan. I'm here to teach you the warrior code."

Cloudkit's eyes lit up, and soon enough he was bouncing around, begging for Skystar to teach him.