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Part 1

Feathertail’s body convulsed, a thrill of pain running from her nose to the tip of her tail. Two of the kits were already born, squirming around at her belly. Mothwing was with her, but the two she-cats were near the gorge, in a small cave that Crowlight had shaped into a somewhat comfortable den instead of the RiverClan nursery. Feathertail was comforted by the presence of her mate, Crowlight. He had been there for her when she was recovering from the Sharptooth attack in the mountains, and she had come back, pregnant with his kits.
The Clans were gone now, headed for a StarClan-promised land. Feathertail, Mothwing, and Crowlight had decided to sty back and catch up later. Mothwing didn’t trust StarClan, and Feathertail had wanted to stay behind to look for her father, Graystripe. Stormfur, her brother, had died in the mountains on the way back to the forest due to an avalanche.
Another unspeakable jet of agony bore down on the laboring queen, and another squirming, wet body was added to the two toms suckling at her belly. “Another tom,” Mothwing proclaimed, then turned back to her patient. “When will this be over- AAGH!” Feathertail’s growl turned into a scream as yet another kit was born, answering her unfinished question.
“Three sons and a daughter,” The golden tabby medicine cat said, backing away happily. “I’ll go hunt for you, while you two have some time together.”
Crowlight snuggled closer to his mate, nuzzling her and each kit in turn. “We should give them Clan names,” He whispered. Feathertail was startled by this. “Why wouldn’t we? Once they’re old enough to travel, we’re going to find the Clans!” She said, bemused. Crowlight sighed, his smoky-gray fur rising and falling with the breath. “Have you ever considered just staying here?” He asked.

Part 1

Briarlight gazed at Jayfeather’s sleeping form, so perfect, so beautiful… and she loved him. More than anything, Briarlight loved this wounded, fierce, beautiful cat who was going to make a wonderful father for her kits. The kits she was carrying were his, but she couldn’t let him know. They had an unspoken bond, the bond of being mates.
At least, Briarlight thought they were mates. Why else would she be pregnant with his kits? Shaking herself, the paralyzed, dark brown she-cat huffed softly. Who would step forward as their father? What would Jayfeather do if he couldn’t be a medicine cat? Would he still love her?
She felt the kits squirm around in her, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before Leafpool or Jayfeather noticed. Briarlight thought there were at least three kits, and wondered if they would be born with disabilities.I’ll just worry about that later, She decided, yawning.
She turned in her nest (or at least, as best she could with her useless hind legs), and fell asleep.

Briarlight screamed with pain. Her upper body was in agony, and the stick that Millie had brought her was not helping. it had already shattered into a million tiny wooden splinters, which Leafpool was sweeping up with a broad, thick leaf. Jayfeather was beside her, worry and confusion showing in his blind blue eyes, along with a question: Are these my kits?
An unfathomable sear of pain ran up from where her spine still felt something to her nose, and Briarlight blacked out.

This is my last entry, promise!

Part 1

Cinderheart grimaced. Why did Leafpool have to be so fussy over her? And why was Lionblaze so, so terribly stupid and annoying? Why did she have memories that she didn’t know? These were some of the greater mysteries to her life.
She was out hunting, trying to concentrate on her quarry: A wood pigeon. It was pecking around the roots of an alder, probably searching for some seeds or nuts. Narrowing her blue eyes, Cinderheart crept up on the unsuspecting bird and pounced. She broke the spine upon impact, so there was no need to deliver a killing bite.
“Great catch, Cinderheart!” Lionblaze purred, stepping out of the bushes. “Thanks,” She said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “C’mon, we’d better be heading back to the camp.”

That night, Cinderheart had formed a plan. Lionblaze was under the impression that she liked him, maybe even wanted to be makes. Blech. She was beyond trying to make him like someone else, and pointing out that she didn’t want to be mates with him. So she was going to shut him up for good, this time. She would make it seem like an accident: He slipped, fell, broke his neck. And Cinderheart could do nothing to help her poor, unfortunate “mate”.