The nursery was almost silent except for the annoyed whispers of a thin she-cat, who's night colored fur clung to her bones.
"I refuse to raise a crippled kit!" She hissed quietly.
It was only then that the small orange and white bundle of fur realized she was cold and...no longer curled up by the warmth of her mother's belly and fluffy sister.
As the helpless kit mewled, and her mother's yellow eyes softened for just a short heartbeat. She huffed and turned away from the kit. "She'll never be a warrior and she will most certainly not be a medicine cat. She is of no use to our clan."
A pale gray tom sat in the nursery entrance, his blue eyes dull and his fur ruffled. "Maybe you don't seem to remember just what a weak cat you once were." He mumbled. He picked up the kit and laid her back beside her white furred sister, Orchidkit.
Ignoring his mate's disgusted hiss, he sat down.
He lashed his tail and laid it on his mate's shoulder. "Imagine what the clan would think of you abandoning your first-born kit." He said.
The warrior licked the kit's ear and left without a word, then soon drifting go sleep in the warriors' den.
