Yup, there's my baby Aspenleaf, and here's a backstory because I entered her as an abandoned kit by a rogue though I want her to be Clanborn now but whatever, I'm rolling with it. Also, I chose a random season.
A pale golden tabby heavily trod through the thick sheet of ice as snowflakes pelted her skin. Underneath her belly, she felt her kits wriggling and struggling against the cold. A dark ginger tom kit was in her mouth, the small thing shivering feebly, his eyes scrunched shut. Don't die yet, Oak. Just a little farther.
Just then, her ears swiveled back as a thump rang through the frozen air. Snow hurled at her face as she looked back with wide eyes. A dark ginger she-kit was collasped in the snow, her eyes scrunched shut as her sister stumbled over her body. The larger cat immediately licked the fallen kit's fur, desperate to bring her back. No, no, no!
The she-kit wasn't responding, her face buried in the snow. A cold gust buffeted them, a kit squealing in protest. Another one gone. I'm so sorry, Juniper! I thought Oak was going to die but you died first and-and...
She brushed the dark ginger kit's head with her muzzle, feeling Oak squirm at the contact of freezing snow. The queen nudged the remaining two kits under her forward with her paws, the ginger kits struggling to move forward. Each kittenstep was barely any progress, but progress it was.
An eternity of freezing death lingering on their shoulders and the constant rushing of pelting snow throbbed under their fur. Another kit slumped down, mewling pitifully. The pale queen paused for a moment before glancing back. A golden tom kit was muzzle-deep in white was gaping his pink mouth, barely a whisper coming out. The older she-cat leaned down to lick him gently. The tom kit shuddered slightly like humming ice before stilling. Another one. Juniper... now Birch... oh, Colin, you were right about this!
The tabby lowered her head, grief washing over her again. She remembered Colin's words, her mate spitting at her ideas of bringing her kits somewhere else. Then, she thought that he was selfish and cruel, but she was the foolish one. The golden she-cat looked back at the two remaining kits, Oak and Aspen.
The queen nudged them on, hoping they would reach their destination.
Another eternity passed, the older tabby sluggish from the weighing grief. Thud.
She couldn't bear to look. The golden she-cat gazed down, seeing the similar pelt of Aspen beside her, the she-kit still alive and standing. Then Oak's gone.
The tabby dared a glanced back to see the dark ginger kit submerged in snow, his eyes shut tight and flank still. I only have one kit left. Would they have survived back at home? With me and Colin? No, then she would have gotten rid of them. Aspen has no hope of living all the way out here. I'm gonna have to leave her if I should make it back alive.
The queen hesitated. Was she really that cold-hearted? But if I'm gone, Colin will have no one. She would have no one. They'll probably go searching for me only to get hurt by wild cats. One life for multiple. Plus, Aspen is still just a kit. What difference would it make?
She thought for a moment before scooping the golden she-kit and placing her in the nook of a tree's roots. The queen looked at her for a long moment. She'll never forgive me for this.
The pale golden tabby turned away, heavily trudging through the snow and back to the warmth of home.
