Littlesheep's Rejection

Chapter one.

The kit's dreams were as clouded as the sky she was born below that night. Rain poured down in turns, and Burntpelt's fur began to grow wet and way too cold to protect her litter of kits.
"I name you, Stormkit." The queen mewed with a sigh. Her tail curled around the tuxedo tom-cat, now called Stormkit. "For the storm you've faced during your birth." She completed, coughing slightly. Burntpelt gently placed Stormkit aside, to have a better vision of the next kit.
"And you, little boy. I name you Thunderkit, for the thunders accompanying the storm." She licked his head, cleaning his creamy white pelt covered by stripes made of ink.
The next kit was the opposite of Thunderkit: a small, charcoal black she-cat with alabaster white stripes running down her lithe body. This kit was silent since birth. Burntpelt's semblance shifted to a disgusted one.
"Ah, you." The tortoiseshell queen spat. "You look like your father. That unworthy carcass of crow-food. I name you, Sloekit." She mewed, frowning slightly. Memories of her deceased mate flooded on her mind. "Adderstar was a jerk. I couldn't have expected much. There's a exact copy of him!" Burntpelt felt the urge to neglect that kit, maybe it would burn in the depths of Dark Forest like its father. Sloekit squeaked for the first time, and Burntpelt growled so it would remain silent. The small she-kit flinched, scared of the sudden, loud roar of her mother. Thunderkit nudged his sister, curling around her, while Stormkit ignored both and received attention from his mother.

Four moons had passed since their stormy birth. Burntpelt had finally found a home for them, and was proud to soon make her kits apprentices and join a clan.
Thunderkit mewed loudly, "C'mon guys! Look over there!" He smiled, staring at a small ant. Stormkit rolled his eyes. "Insects again, Thunder?"
Sloekit followed right behind them, head held low. Her tail flicked.
"Hey, Sloekit, c'mon! Or is it Slowkit?" Stormkit laughed, turning around to face his smaller sister. Thunderkit hissed. "Don't call her that, Stormkit! She's your sister. So respect her."
Burntpelt heard the convo, tail held high. She did nothing but stare, admiring Stormkit's rebellion against his sister. She grinned silently, sitting on her haunches and yawning after.
The wind blew through the meadow, sending chills down Sloekit's spine. She squeaked quietly under her breath, glancing up at the sky with pale cerulean eyes shadowed by grief. For a moment, she felt Thunderkit's fur rub against hers. The tom-kit smiled gently. "Ignore him, you're cool." He mewed. Giving her a apologetic look, Thunderkit licked her cheek. "Now, let's explore. Maybe we can find the fruits, sloes! I imagine them being black, what do you think?"
Sloekit pondered. Maybe they were ugly, like her. Stormkit interrupted her thoughts, along with Burntpelt. "I bet they're tiny and with bad taste, like Thunder's insects!" It made Sloekit flinch, damaged by his words.
Burntpelt shrugged, picking Thunderkit up by the scruff. "Nobody's gonna explore today. Time to sleep. Let's go, Stormkit, Thunderkit and.. Sloekit." She sighed, padding inside the claustrophobic den they slept in.