A Forest of Wild Tigers [Wildfang x Tigerstrike kits]

It had been a harsh leaf-bare, but at least some good had come out of it. Wildfang had been a strong mother, eating only the bare minimum of poppy seeds for pain upon birthing her three kittens. She never yowled, regardless of the pain, but had simply walked to the Medicine Den, let Muddythorn know that she was in labor, and walked back to the nursery and lie down to have them. Despite how much of a princess she appeared to be, her pain tolerance had always been terrifyingly high. She bit down on the stick between her teeth and growled lowly only twice before the entire process was over. Once she had her three kits sucking at her belly, she stared at them with a softness in her eyes rarely seen by anyone. "My perfect babies," She crooned. "Maplekit, Hawthornkit and Oakkit. You'll take after me I'm sure and be the very best fighters in Skyclan." She gave each one a gentle lick.


The kits were about three moons old. Wildfang watched them carefully, often getting up several times to make sure they stayed away from the entrance to the nursery in case they wandered out. She didn't trust the undead monsters lurking around camp. If even one o her kits were harmed... then she would find out exactly how much a dead cat could truly bleed. "Don't wander outside yet. The cold isn't good for you. Stay in here and play." Was newleaf ever going to come back? Would her kits live and die all in darkness and cold? She hated to think of it. She worried for them often but tried not to let it show on her face. They were kits for now, but they would not be kits forever. They needed to savor this moment of innocence, because Stars knew that it would be fleeting and never come back.

Hawthornkit rarely strayed far from his mother's side. He simply loved her too much to bat an eye at life outside of the nursery, outside of her care. What in Starclan could be better than Wildfang? Today the only reason the beautiful little kitten wasn't glued to her soft side was his aspirations. He already knew he wanted to be Skyclan's greatest fighter, and of course the first step would be practice! And with Wildfang's words to stay inside, his mission was crystal clear.

The young tom carried himself over to his brothers with graceful and pointed paw steps, confidently challenging them to a duel, "Oakkit, Maplekit. I want practice with the best, so fight with me please. Who will win do you think?" It was a fair question, who would rein supreme out of three, perfect kittens?

Hawthornkit desperately wanted to be the winner- to prove himself and impress Mama, but his opponents were his very own kin. Could he really beat two of his own level? His confidence faltered slightly. Did he actualy want those questions answered? The tom-kit looked to his mother. His appearance just like hers, something Hawthornkit took great pride in. His paws then twitched with an odd fear. What happens if I lose? he wondered, Then I'd only be like Mama in appearance... I must win this then. I have to be as tough as her!

Being challenged by his brother, such a small little thing. The same size as him, however he knew he would win.

I accept! I will win, obviously! I will impress Mama.He knew the whole world will bend to his own will, felt that he was important.

Probably not, but that's just how kits think.

His monologue was quickly swept away as one of his brothers took him up on his offer. Hawthornkit didn't risk another second to ponder his chances, raising his paw over Oakkit's head. His strike perfectly crested his sibling's face. The rush of success felt good. Oh yes, he liked this very much. Maybe he could be truly strong like Mama! The little tom then tried to topple his brother over by ramming his head into the other kit's chest. It hurt a lot, and even caused a headache. Hawthornkit angrily shook his head, deciding that headbutting was a dumb move. Besides, precisely timing your hits was much more satisfying.