Willowheart's Unwanted Kit

The only live kit
Willowheart stared at her two live kits. Her other one were dead. She stared at the two light gray females. Then at the little dusky brown tom. He was breathing very slowly. "You will be Barkkit." She murmured licking him gently. She had kitted by herself without even Eaglecall. As soon as she was done cleaning Barkkit he stopped breathing. "No!" She yelped. She turned to the dead one. "You shall not go to starclan without a name, little one." She meowed. "You little black, dead one shall be Blackkit and you two, gray ones should be Flykit and Stormkit."

Suddenly Flykit let out a squeak of agony. A thorn was jabbing into her. "Ma, it hurts!" She exclaimed. Willowheart brushed of the thorn. "Once Flykit opens her eyes we will see Leafclan camp, right?" Stormkit asked. Willowheart nodded. It had been three days since she had kitted. Still a patrol hadn't found her hiding space underneath roots of a maple tree.

Willowheart settled down for a nap when she heard loud paw steps. "She's got to be somewhere around here!" A distraught meow sounded from up above.

"Hello?" Willowheart called. Suddenly, Willowheart's mate, Featherfoot jumped into the roots.