Yeet. This is something dumb I’m making just for fun :P If people like it I’ll continue it. Oh, and I haven’t read Warriors in a while sooo yeah. And one more thing, cats can mate and breed in winter, it’s not impossible.
Prologue A young Graystrike roamed across the forest. He was lost, cold, and hungry. He was meant to find food during the worst Leafbare that Oakclan had ever seen. He padded through a snow bank, and sniffed the air. He stiffened. There was no smell of any sort of prey, but there was the smell of fresh blood and coyotes. He was about to turn back, but he heard a soft sound. It sounded like a young kit. “Who would have their kits in the middle of leafbare?” He thought. He couldn’t just let the kit die, so he began walking towards the sound. After a minute, he came to a clearing, his eyes scanned the area, and he saw a red stain on the fresh snow, and near it, a light-cream colored kit, its fur stained red with blood. The coyotes however, seemed to be gone. He went up to the kit, and poked her with his paw. She wasn’t moving. “I wonder if Riverfoot can save this kit…” He wondered aloud. He picked up the kit, and began walking. Suddenly, a coyote pounced at him. He managed to tumble out of the way, picked up the kit, and began running. A howl could be heard. The pack was nearing him. He sped up. A second coyote bound towards him. He threw the kit into a nearby snowdrift, and went into a battle stance. Most of the coyotes had disappeared. Only this one remained. “If this is how I die, saving a kit, well then so be it.” He leapt towards the coyote, and made a deep slash down its neck. The coyote didn’t appreciate that. It mauled Graystrike into a tree and bit him on his side. They continued fighting until Graystrike collapsed. “I can’t let such a young cat die..” He muttered to himself. The coyote was wounded too, and they could be able to escape if they tried. With the last of his energy, Graystrike picked up the kit, and ran all the way to Leafclan camp. * * * The med-cat, Riverfoot was able to save Graystrike and the kit after an overnight, miraculously, and he walked into his den. “Graystrike! You had me and our kits worried sick! They’re only two days old, and their father already had a near-death experience.” His mate, Coralpelt said. “Coralpelt, it wasn’t a near death experience, but I did want to ask you something…” Graystrike started. “The whole reason I got so injured is because I found this kit, hurt and all alone in the middle of the woods. She doesn’t seem to have anyone to take care of her.. we only have three kits, do you think I could ask if we could take her in?” Coralpelt sighed. “You know I can’t say no to you.” She smiled. You can ask. * * * “We’re allowed to take her in!” Graystrike said, as he helped her into the den. She mewed softy. “Why, I don’t think that this one has a name, along with all of our kits.” Coralpelt said. “We can call this one,” She said, pointing to a tabby she-cat with her father’s green eyes, “Robinkit.” Greystrike nodded. “Sounds wonderful.” He said. “And we can call this one,” He pointed to a light grey fluffy kitten with eyes like sea glass. “Lilykit.” Two kits remained. A storm-gray one and the light-cream kit. They decided to name the first one Silverkit, and the cream one Willowkit. “Well,” Coralpelt said to her mate. “We did a fine job of naming these kits, did we not?” Greystrike nodded. “We really did.”
