Scourge's Deathmatch - Warrior Cat Fanfiction

Prologue

"Its happening! Get Mothwing, quick!" A light grey she-cat hissed, nosing two kits out with the others. A silver she-cat lay sprawled out on a large nest of moss, panting. Her belly was swollen with unborn kits ready to see the world.

"Don't worry, Feathertail, Mothwing will be here soon and then you can have a proper kitting." As she spoke, a white she-cat returned with a dappled golden she-cat with soaked moss.

"I brought you some water. Whitetail, fetch a stick; a sturdy one." She meowed, nosing the wet moss to Feathertail. The she-cat lapped a few drops, then groaned as another spasm hit her.

"Isn't there anything you can give her?" The light grey she-cat hissed, worry whisked through her eyes. Feathertail's legs tensed as she let out another groan. She panted heavily, and Mothwing turned to whitetail as she returned with a thick stick.

"Thank you, Whitetail." She placed the stick beside Feathertail, and the kitting she-cat latched around it with her jaws. "There's nothing more i can do but help her along the way. She needs to have these kits, not me." Mothwing pointed out as she placed her paws on her belly, feeling her as she convulsed and finally a kit slid out.

Mothwing nippled the sack, pulling the black kit out and beginning to lick it fiercely. It soon let out a wail, pushing hard on the young medicine cats paws.

"He's gonna be a real fighter, Feathertail. Keep pushing hard, I beel you have two more." She encouraged, and the she-cat gave a blink in response, biting hard on the stick. Whitetail busied the kits outside as a Black tom paced beside the entrance.

"She has already started kitting, don't worry, Crowfeather." She purred to him, placing her tail tip onto his shoulder. He sighed, turned to face her.

"Oh, I'm not worried about the kitting, Whitetail. I know Feathertail's strong, and so are our kits. I'm just worried they are not strong enough for Scourge's Deathmatch." He meowed, looking at his paws.

"Don't worry about that right now. They still have five good moons before they are apprenticed, and then two more before Scourge's Deathmatch. They have plenty of time to strengthen up." She pointed out, padding to her own kits.

Another groan sounded from the nursery as a second kit wailed. Mothwing purred, licking it dry.

"She is very wild, Feathertail. She make a fiesty apprentice. One more, dear. Then you can name them." She placed her paws on her belly again just as a spasm took over her and her body covulsed. The last kit was almost there.

  
"Crowfeather, you can come meet your kits." Almost immediately the anxious tom stood up. He padded quietly into the nursery. Feathertail had two black kits suckling quietly while a silver kit lay afar.

"What happened to him?" He turned to the medicine cat, grief in his eyes.

"He was too weak. He died soon after birth but Feathertail named him after her kin, Stormkit." She whispered solemnly. Crowfeather touched his nose to his limp kit's cold fur.

"May you find swift running, great hunting and shelter where you sleep." Mothwing murmured, picking up the small kit and taking her out to Cinderpelt, who had been waiting beside a small hole dug for the poor kit.

"Have you decided on names, my love?" He whispered, to his resting mate. She looked up, warmth in her eyes.

"I would never choose their names without you." She purred, nosing the black tom back against her when he slid out of place.

"I think we should name the tom Brokenkit, for how broken his apponents will be in Scourge's Deathmatch." He purred, proud of his son. Then he turned to the she-kit, who had her paw raised slowly, before striking it down on her brother's head. He smirked at the little she-cat.

"I think we should name her Spiderkit, for she shall be as sneaky and as deadly as a spider." Feathertail meowed, licking the top of both kits' heads.

"They will be the strongest in the clan."