Warriors: The Prophecy of Fire

Chapter Twenty-Four

It had been almost exactly a moon- the half-moon meeting was last night. Hawthorneclaw's belly was too swollen to go on the journey, but she didn't want to send Cloudpaw alone for a second time, so Breezecloud had accompanied her until she found the other medicine cats. The Clan was told by Dawnstar a quarter moon ago. Some were accepting and even congratulating, but others weren't. As they got on, she could tell that they were still upset, but they talked to her and treated her nearly normal. She was overdue by a few days, but she couldn't feel anything wrong with her kits. Maybe they were just taking a little longer. Over the moon, Skypaw and Oakpaw had passed their test and had gotten their Warrior names- Skypaw was now Skyfeather and Oakpaw was now Oakstorm. Hawthorneclaw woke to a searing pain in her belly, a pain that she had heard described to her many times before. Staggering to her paws, she makes her way over to her apprentice.

"Cloudpaw! Wake up!" she murmurs into the cream she-cat's ear. She lets out a leisurely stretch, her pink mouth wide with a yawn, and gets to her paws.

"What?" she asks with another yawn.

"My kits are coming! Get some borage leaves and Nightsky. Tell him-" her voice was cut off by a yowl of pain. She panted catching her breath, before finishing her sentence. "Tell him to find a stick." The apprentice rushes to her feet and grabs the borage, giving it to her mentor, before rushing out of the den. Hawthorneclaw begins to chew the leaves and stumbles to her nest. She had insisted on staying in the medicine cat den and not moving to the nursery- she felt the need to train her young apprentice as long as she could. Soon Nightsky and Cloudpaw came rushing in. Nightsky's blue eyes were wide with worry, but Cloudpaw seemed oddly calm- a good sign for a future medicine cat. After getting the stick, she bit down on hit hard when the next spasm of pain crashed through her. Heartbeats later, a kit slid out onto the nest.

"Nip the sack and lick it, then put it against my belly," Hawthorneclaw hissed out. Cloudpaw obeys, gently licking the kit and pressing it against her belly.

"A tom," Cloudpaw purrs. Hawthorneclaw has two more kits- a tom and a she-cat. As they nurse, the new parents discuss their names, Hawthorneclaw's voice weak and raspy. 

"How about we name the last tom Dustkit because of his grey pelt?"

"No," she rasped. "They have to be related to fire. Smokekit."

"Lovely," he purred. "The she-cat, her pelt looks like sparks from a flame. How does Sparkkit fit her?"

"Yes," Hawthorneclaw replied with a short purr. "And Blazekit for the last tom."

"Smokekit, Sparkkit, and Blazekit. Beautiful," he purred, his voice silky. 

"Let her get some sleep," Cloudpaw told the tom.

"Okay. Sleep well, my beautiful ones." At his words, Hawthorneclaw's eyes closed in satisfaction and she drifted off to a peaceful sleep. 

When she woke up the following morning, she felt her kits' warmth against her belly. With a joyful purr, she reached her head down to lick them. As she licked their kitten fuzz back, she felt an odd sensation of cold fur. She moved her head back and found the cold. Picking the kit up by its scruff, she was surprised at how stiff it was. Then, with an overwhelming wave of grief, it dawned on her- Blazekit was dead. Setting him down gently with her other kits, she let out a yowl of grief, causing Nightsky and Cloudpaw to dart into the den.

"What's wrong?" Nightsky exclaimed, his mew worried.

"Blazekit. H-he, he's gone." Nightsky gently touches the limp kit with his nose, but he gets no reaction.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hawthorneclaw." He nuzzles her gently, whimpers of grief escaping her jaws.

That night, the Clan holds a vigil for the small kit. His limp body was buried, Hawthorneclaw, Nightsky, Sunpelt, Brushbranch, and Silverfeather sat for him. His littermates were curled up in Hawthorneclaw's belly, protected from the air that was slowly growing colder, it was the beginning of leaf-fall after all. Even though Hawthorneclaw was evidentally grieving for the loss of her kit, it didn't stop her from caring about her other kits. Smokekit and Sparkkit became close, especially since they were the only kits in the Clan. Even though she herself didn't go, Cloudpaw reported to Hawthorneclaw that fighting nearly broke out at the gathering because of her kits. The medicine cats had fought for her and explained that it was StarClan's way. The outbursts from the other Clans had subdued, but the rest of the night was tense and it was obvious that they were still upset, especially Stormstar and Shrewstar. Smokekit and Sparkkit were pretty good kits- asking for permission before doing anything. Their favorite things were badger rides and stories from Fernfoot and Lilypelt. Sparkkit had grown into an orange tortoiseshell pelt, like her mother's, and green/ blue eyes. She was as firey as her name and loved beingSmokekit had a dark grey pelt, his father's but lighter, with his bright blue eyes. He also had a white front right paw that gradually darkened into his grey pelt. 

"Hawthorneclaw!" a voice mewed. She had been sorting through the herbs that Cloudpaw had found earlier.

"Yes, Smokekit?" she replied, turning to face the excited kit.

"Spar-" he's interrupted as his sister slides into him, knocking the wind out of him. 

"Sparkkit?" Hawthorneclaw mews at the she-cat, her eyes narrowed and tail flicking.

"I just wanted to playfight!" she exclaimed instantly, defending herself.

"And I was trying to head over here to make the nest," he retaliates. "I had found some new feathers by the creek just outside of Camp." Hawthorneclaw opened her jaws to scold her kit for leaving Camp, but Smokekit flicked his tail to silence her. "Don't worry. Nightsky had offered to take me out. He offered to-" his voice fades as Nightsky pads into the den. Hawthorneclaw's deathstare gives enough base for him to understand their conversation. "Taking our kit out of Camp before he's an apprentice, huh?" she mews, her green eyes amused. 

"Just a few fox-lengths. He was begging for feathers after Cloudpaw had told him she found some." Hawthorneclaw glanced over at the cream she-cat who was shifting her paws guiltily. 

"You're fine," she purrs, her eyes glinting in amusement. As she looks over her mate and kits, she realizes how lucky she is- to be a medicine cat and to have a mate and kits. Even though Blazekit had passed away, she was still more lucky than most. Her beautiful kits were growing so fast, and she knew that Blazekit was watching over her from StarClan. As Smokekit and Blazekit get into a play-fight, she watches as they roll around on the floor of the den, a tangle of legs and fur, she purred heartily. StarClan really had lit her path.