Kitestar jumped down from the opening in the makeshift nest constructed out of the hollowed shell of the long-deceased monster onto the moss-lined floor below, one of the many structures just like it within the MetalClan camp. This one was a nest and nursery for pregnant and nursing queens and their kits, and inside was Cricketleap and the two kits that survived the past few nights.
He mourned for the kit that didn’t live long enough for him to meet. Poor, sweet little Mintkit. Despite Cherryflower’s best efforts, nothing could be done to save him. As much as Kitestar knew that kits perished shortly after birth often and it was just the way things were, he wished that weren’t the case. He was sure that with enough care, even a kit weak at birth could grow up strong. That was his son, and he loved him all the same, even if they never met.
But it wouldn’t do to let that get in the way of him meeting the two that did make it. Flickerkit and Foxkit were waiting for him.
As he leaped down into the nest, he brushed noses with Cricketleap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t visit sooner.”
Cricketleap only purred, laying her head back down and stretching her body while the kits slept peacefully at her belly. “You’re trying to get a Clan settled. Think nothing of it.”
“Don’t justify it. It’s been days.”
“You’re going to drive yourself insane. MetalClan needs you.”
Kitestar circled the nest before settling beside Cricketleap, poking his nose into the two bundles of fur curled up at her belly. Flickerkit, a tiny she-kit, looked much like her father with her white and orange fur. Foxkit, on the other hand, was the spitting image of his mother, with sleek, reddish brown fur. It was hard to tell now, but Kitestar was certain he’d have the same coat and lithe build as Cricketleap when he got older.
Their eyes still had yet to open. For all the important moments he’d missed, he hoped he could be there so they could meet him properly. They deserved to be able to see their father there when they could finally see the world around them.
“They really are our kits, aren’t they?”
“A little emotional?”
“Didn’t think I’d live to see kits of my own.”
“I don’t think you expected to lead a Clan, either.”
“I didn’t.”
Cricketleap’s upper body jolted upright. “Speaking of, are you sure you aren’t busy?”
Kitestar pressed a paw to her shoulder to ease her back down. He couldn’t let her get stressed now, not when she had kits to take care of. “Waspflight is taking care of everything for a little while. He wanted me to be able to come to see you and the kits.”
“That old badger of a cat? He’s older than dirt. How does he still do it?”
“That’s a mystery that I don’t think I could ever solve. Maybe he’s just too angry to stop and settle down. I’ll probably be old and gray by the time I see him retire to the elder’s den. He’ll bring back a big haul of fresh-kill for his precious Springpool, I know that much.”
“Maybe they’ll have kits of their own.”
He tilted his head. “At her age?”
“It’s still possible.”
Kitestar let himself rest again Cricketleap’s warm body. He was still so enamored by the sight of his kits. “Then I would gladly mentor for one of my best friend’s kits.”
“Their kits… they would look a little funny, don’t you think?”
“Tailless and the fur of an opossum with the face of a wolf?” Kitestar had to hold back a laugh. That would look a little funny. “Or perhaps they’d look more like their mother or father.”
Foxkit squeaked and nuzzled his face into Cricketleap’s belly.
Kitestar purred. “Foxstar. That would be a name befitting a leader, wouldn’t it?”
“Don’t get biased, now.”
“I know, I know. It won’t be me that gets to choose him for the role. I’ll be watching from StarClan,” he said, licking Foxkit’s fur as the kit pawed at the warm belly. “But I can feel it. He’ll be a leader someday.”