Post by ~Night~ on Jul 5, 2009 21:05:31 GMT -6
Darkstorm
The pretty tortoiseshell warrior picked her way among the stones, carefully making her way from ledge to ledge. Alot had been going on in the clan. More than usual. Sleetpads kit were finally become aprentices, but just when there were cats leving the nursery, Whirlclaw had had her kits now.
She stopped and turned around for a moment. She was now seated on a large stone. Her mis-matching eyes surveyed the scenic view below. The gorge that her clan called home.
Her mind wandered, back to kits. Kits. The start of life. Kits made her wonder about her own past. She still wondered if she was clan-born or not. She always had a nagging doubt that she was not clan-born. Kits. they made her think about the joy they always brought to the clans that they were born into. Kits. They decided the future of the clans. Kits. Would she ever have any of her own? She loved kits so much. Were they in her future? She hoped that they were.