Feverish heat pulsed through the day old leopard kit, feeble limbs twitching, eyes rolling as its tiny body overheated. Outside, a huge storm thrashed the cracked oaks and whipped the flailing birch trees, as if trying to take the remaining life away from the lonely kit. The other warm, wiggling bodies and its mother that it had known since the beginning were gone and the small feline was cold, colder than it had ever been. There seemed to be a vast emptiness that pressed against its throat and squeezed its jerking legs, empty of hope... And the warmth it had always known.
But the little one had more strength than it had been thought.
"Survive," whispered a strange voice. "Survive and awake!" A strange glow appeared just beyond the kit's closed eyelids and a new strength flooded through its veins. All through the night, it managed to push away the encroaching darkness as the quite voice whispered comforting words through its sealed ears.
"Awake!" It hissed a final time.
Her eyes popped open.
Bright blue morning sunshine was streaming through the den entrance and murmurs could be heard beyond. Leaves littered a clearing slowly filling with wiry, lean, and muscle bound cats with brown and black-veined spots dotting their gold pelts.
She instinctively knew she was one of them.
"Goldkit!" A voice cut though the morning air and wrapped around the young leopard, filling her with the warmth of love. "She's alive," another fatherly voice cut in. "LeopardClan is still strong."
Goldkit, for that seemed to be her name, rolled her head and stared at the felines gazing at her in the warm shelter of the nursery with their bright, yellow-green eyes. She instinctively knew that the female with the cocked ears tipped in black and slim frame was her birth mother and the powerful leopard who stood protectively over her, tail draped over her mother's spine, her father. At their paws tumbled three blurred bundles of fur.
And Goldkit felt forsaken, abandoned at the entrance of the den, previously mistaken for dead.
Her mother shook off her mate's tail with a small growl and trotted towards her daughter, gently nipping the scruff of her neck and setting her with the rest of her litter mates. The warm bodies surrounding her filled her with bliss and milk-scent flooded her fine nostrils. She fought for the teat with the litter mates whose eyes had not yet opened, whose ears could not yet hear. She watched the small bodies flashing golden and black in the gleaming dawn, scorching her unused eyes and the comforting darkness she found when she burrowed into her mother's stomach filled her with enchantment.
"Willowkit," her mother's voice snapped. "Save some room for Skykit. Strikekit, for goodness sake..."
My brothers and sisters, Goldkit realized.
"Rippleflower," her father purred softly. "You know they can't hear you."
Her mother snapped at the air, sending a jolt through her body. "Yes, I'm aware of that, Brackenthorn." For the first time, Goldkit noticed her mother's long and deadly claws sunk deep into the thick moss and shivered, realizing how her mother could easily tear her apart if she so desired. She nestled deeper into her belly and mewled desperately as hunger made her bones ache, before shoving a kit away with her small hind legs and rolling over. Milk filled her stomach as she sucked intently. Soon, full, she fell into a deep, contented sleep.

It had been two moon cycles since Goldkit had been born and she and her litter mates were already strong boned and playful, although the fuzz of kit hood would not leave their faces for at least three more moons. Goldkit raced eagerly out of the nursery and scrambled onto a large stone, fluffing out her fur and trying to grip the warming rock with her spiky claws. "Queen of the rock!" She called out, as Spikekit padded out sleepily, trailed by Willowkit and Skykit.
Willowkit flattened her neck and tried to growl, while Skykit tossed his head back. "A queen is a leopard who bears kits," he retorted. "Good luck becoming a warrior!"
Goldkit stiffened as anger made her short, golden fur bristle. "Mama says the twolegs use the term "queen" as a ruling female."
Skykit snickered to Willowkit, "See, Mama says!"
Goldkit lashed her tail and hissed.
"Chill," Willowkit told Skykit. Spikekit shook out his head and whipped around, sinking his small claws into the peaty soil. "Mama will get mad if we fight again," he meowed.
"That's right," a stern voice sounded above Goldkit and she looked up, heart pounding and throat dry as a leopard face towered over her. A sheathed paw cuffed her, making her tumble off the rock. She stared in dismay at the warrior, before recognizing him as Stonetail, one of the stricter felines of Leopardclan.
"I sit here every sun-rise during announcements," the older leopard hissed, indicating the warm rock. "What makes you think you can claim it now." The leopard lowered his muscle bound neck and nudged Goldkit to her paws with a calculated jerk. She sat down hard.
"Sorry, Stonetail," she muttered before she dipped her head and trotted away, thin tail tucked between her wiry legs.
"Sorry, Stonetail," Skykit mimicked under his breathe to Willowkit.
Goldkit snapped up her head and growled, "I'm not completely deaf you know."
"Oh I know." he snapped back. Willowkit narrowed her eyes, and Goldkit noticed as her breathing quickened. "I'm completely aware," Skykit added.
"Shut up!" Willowkit had recovered her senses and swung her head up, facing her brother as her claws slid from their sheathes. "Just shut up." Advancing, she aimed a clumsy blow at her littermate's head and he ducked just in time, but his eyes widened in shock. Rearing unsteadily onto her hind legs, she swiped at the air above his head and hissed, her ears flat and lips peeled back from her small teeth. "Stop picking on Goldkit." Her sister let out a throaty growl.
Skykit shook his head, eyes narrowed as he darted forwards and viciously nipped Willowkit's weak, shaking leg. As she collapsed and glanced up, eyes huge, she mewled with alarm and rubbed a paw over her silky forehead. "Skykit..." The she-kit trailed off hopelessly. Skykit leered over her small, curved form, swiping a paw to ruffle the smooth pelt. As excitement made his neck fur quiver, a deep, vicious pleasure lit the depths of his eyes.
Goldkit's fur stood on end as alarm coursed through her veins. This was because of her. Acting on pure instinct, she streaked towards the two and shoved her brother away, spinning around and kicking him away with her hind-legs. As he thudded onto the ground, she twisted in the air and fastened her teeth loosely around his throat.
Spikekit watched from where he was pressed to the ground in horror.
"Goldkit!" A deep voice bellowed across the clearing, a vengeful snarl embedded in the tone. "We do not harm clan mates!" Realizing what she had done, Goldkit backed away and lowered her head in shame. Brackenthorn leapt the space between them in a golden blur and thudded in front of her. His yellow-green eyes were lit with concealed shock. Goldkit cowered at his feet as her father swiped a paw across her ear sharply. She shuddered, before pulling herself onto her paws. "But Skykit was going to hurt Willowkit!" She protested.
"What?" Skykit exclaimed, his ears flattened.
"Do not blame your brother." The warrior lashed his tail against her flank and his long and sharp claws dug deep into the earth.
"Skykit's been teasing her for ages and I attacked him," Willowkit confessed, and lifted her chin bravely. Brackenthorn whirled around and one blow from his muscle-bound paw made her stumble to the ground.
"Fools, all of you!" Their father lifted his head towards Whirlstar's den and a deep throaty growl sounded from his throat. "I'm going to talk about this to our leader, and if one sound comes from any of you..." Brackenthorn ripped a claw from the dirt and scraped it along the ground until the gleaming tip shone. "You get my meaning?"
Goldkit swallowed dryly and nodded along with the rest of her siblings. She sat down hard and watched with silent dread as her father stretched his thick legs and hurtled towards the den, skidding up the small hill and stumbling to a halt at the cave entrance, deeply bowing to what Goldkit assumed was the shadow of their leader in the dark.
"Goldkit," Skykit snarled suddenly. "You rabbit-brain. How could you be so stupid you wretched bag of flea-scum? How could you get our father to hate us that way, you detestable worm! You filthy measel no better than mouse-dung! Get away, get away!" Skykit stumbled forward and stuck his tail into the air, his eyes flashing with rage. His black-socked paw slammed against her cheek and a warm body slammed into hers and battered her flank. Spiked paws scraped against her pelt and ripped open her delicate skin.
Goldkit battered him away feebly with weak paws. "Are you done yet?" She whispered.
"Oh," a strong voice cut in. "Wow. You have strong kits, Brackenthorn. And runt ones, not to mention. Spikekit, you cower there while your brother and sisters fight?" It was Whirlstar, and as he said this, he gripped the small kit in powerful jaws and shook him vigorously before setting him down. "Be brave, kit." The leader hissed.
Spikekit stumbled away, a few small scratches visible on his back.
"As for Goldkit, well, talk to me later. Skykit, how dare you hurt her so viciously! But it was a good show of rage. You're too talented to have to wait a moon for apprenticeship."
Skykit cast a smug look at his littermates and licked a paw smoothly. Goldkit flattened her ears and looked away. What had her leader meant, talk to her later?
Goldkit winced as she tried to take a step forward.
"Here," Spikekit darted forward and supported her weight against his. "Let's get you some marigold and dock to soothe your scratches." As he shouldered her to help, he muttered to himself, "Don't forget thyme for shock. Oh, Spikekit,what are you going to do with your life?" As he finished, Goldkit blinked at him in surprise. "What do you mean, do with your life? You don't need to know that medicine stuff if you turn warrior right?" As she stared into his wide eyes, it registered.
"Unless you don't want to turn warrior," she added slowly.
Spikekit was silent.
Goldkit stopped for a second and ran a claw over the shallow scratches embedded in his back and winced. " I think Whirlstar's cruel," she whispered in his ear and shook her head, turning away as his ears pressed against his skull. His tail whipped around her flank and arced over her back before he glanced up and nudged her forward gently. "Come on Goldkit," he meowed and sunk his small claws into the soil for a brief second, a sudden snarl on his face gone as soon as it came. "Let's go get Heatherspots to tend to those wounds." Her littermate touched a scratch lightly and lowered his head. 
"Skykit would make a good Whirlstar in the future," Spikekit murmured suddenly, almost to himself as they made their way towards the medicine tavern. Goldkit swung her head towards him and bared her teeth as the words registered, neck flat and a small growl rumbling in her throat. "Never," she hissed a little too loudly and Spikekit's tail whipped over her snout.
"Ssshhhh..." he glared at her, arching his back and thumping his flimsy tail on the ground. "Don't let anyone know what you think. Your opinions are not meant to be your own!"

Goldkit stared at him for a moment, feeling the fur on her neck rise as she lowered herself onto her haunches curiously. "You sound like Mother." She noted, keeping the tremor from her voice.
"That's a direct quote from her, too." Spikekit stuck his tail in the air proudly, lifting himself onto his hind paws as Goldkit tilted her head, twitching her whiskers at him.

"Lets get your scratches cleaned up," Spikekit remembered himself, blinking a few times and shaking his head as he landed back on all fours and trotted forward a few paces. Goldkit flicked her whiskers at him and brushed her tail over his weak shoulders before following behind, feeling the ground pass beneath her pads, the pads that would toughen and callous over the passing of time with hunting, running, and... war. 

Somewhere deep inside of her, a flame of excitement stirred. 

The two cubs paused at the entrance to the medicine den. "Whoa!" Goldkit whispered to Spikekit. "This place is so cool!" She gasped, looking up and flicking her tail excitedly. The stone steps leading to the arched entrance looked as if they had been hammered out by a Twoleg device, and they were covered by designs etched into the rock by leopard teeth over countless generations. The entrance had dried leaves hung in the doorway emitting powerful auras of fresh Earth smell that almost managed to cover the smell of blood and pain. Just past the entryway, she could barely make out rickety wooden shelves scavenged from the Lion's forest, from fallen trees cut out and shaped by the leopard's sharp claws. "How..."

"Apparently, ages ago, we found those steps at a destroyed Twoleg home and we managed to lug them here with an ingenious transportation method lost to time now," Spikekit explained. "The perfectly shaped entryway was a result of countless generations of leopards' sculpting. Persistent, huh?" 

"Yeah, yeah." Padding forward, Goldkit nosed past the leaves, wrinkling her nose at the overpowering stench, and slunk inside. Immediately she sneezed, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head to and fro. The floor was sanded smooth, cool stone meeting against her warm paws, and in the back were several nests, warrior sized, and made of pigeon feathers. The shelves along the sides were lined with countless herbs, cobwebs, stones, and even scraps of stuff scavenged from Twolegs, including bits of metal... and was that a weapon? A small fire lit the inside, throwing shadows, the smoke escaping through a hole in the ceiling. All the walls inside too were etched with intricate drawings. Battles, victories, kits tumbling among the sand, even dying cats, their souls rising from their bodies, free. A sunset, a sunrise. A strike of lightning and a forest fire. An endless rush of water. Mountains. 

Medicine cats could talk with Starclan, after all. Perhaps these were prophecies. Goldkit felt a shudder travel up her spine and her paws momentarily weakened. For a second, she had the urging to stay here all day, live in this cool stone cave and observe these drawings made over countless generations forever, until she reminded herself that she would be a warrior. She had to be. She could feel the urging to become powerful, fast. The best, the strongest, the most feared, the need, deep in her bones. To flow over the moor like a river over a dry riverbed, to run below the sky, stretching her limbs to their full extent, towards the horizon surrounding them on all sides. The Earth rushing below her, her digging her long, sharp claws into the soil, ripping it out in chunks as she flew over the ground. Muscles that would ripple, powerful necks that could kill, deadly jaws. The bit of star inside of her that burned. 

Spikekit padded inside after her, shaking his head, whiskers twitching at the sudden scent. "Isn't it great?" He asked. His eyes sparked with excitement, a look Goldkit had never truly seen in her brother. His claws clicked on the stone as he slid them in and out and he walked forward a few steps. "Heatherspots?" He called softly, before moving around and sniffing the herbs, ears screwed against his head in concentration as he muttered them to himself. 

"Get away from those," a growl rose from the cave entrance behind them and Goldkit spun around, tail tucked beneath her legs and ears flattened as the medicine cat padded from the light at the entrance, trotting over to the fire and showering it with small twigs. Spikekit padded up to him nervously, head lowered to the ground and pelt twitching furiously. "Sorry, Heatherspots." He squeaked. 

"No harm done, Spikekit." The older leopard growled. "You know what you're doing, I'm sure." There was real laughter in his eyes. And kindness. More kindness than Goldkit had seen in any other cat in her life. Trotting up to him tentatively, she looked up at him.

"We came for our scratches," she told him. Heatherspots spun around to look at her, eyes widening in fascination as his eyes ran over her ruffled pelt. Her pelt that had an unusual richness to it, that appeared an intense gold in the sunlight, unlike a normal cat's usual yellow. 

"Goldkit, I assume?" He asked, pacing around her and sniffing her. There was something zealous in his eyes, especially as he muttered, "The precious stone begins its flight," and his eyes widened. Goldkit was surprised to see fear. "But no," his whisper was hardly loud enough for her ears to catch. "It's too soon." Before she could ask what he meant, he whipped around, tail lashing across her face and his paw crashed against her pelt. She fell with a whimper, scrambling away from him and towards Spikekit, whose ears were flat against his head. 

"What are you doing here?" He roared at her. "I... I should kill you right now!" Of course he was unconcerned someone would hear him. Threats like that were not uncommon in the Clans. Heading towards the entrance, he growled to Spikekit, "You know how to take care of your wounds. I can't look a second at her." But even as he spoke, tears dripped from the corners of his eyes and his pawsteps sounded peculiarly empty and hollow, as if he was uncertain in his step. Then he was out of site, away into the forest. 

"What - what?" Goldkit looked at him in dismay. Spikekit only shrugged, before pacing the perimeter of the den and randomly snagging leaves from the shelves he could reach and the niches in the ground where bundles were neatly stored. When he got back, he spat them at her feet and pointed to three specific leaves at her feet.  

"Chew these into a pulp and then rub them into the scratches on my back," he commanded. 

"Are you not even curious about as to what Heatherspots was talking about?" Goldkit demanded?

Spikekit looked away to lick his wounds before turning back around to her, churning his paws against the stone and licking his lips of the bitter taste of the herbs. "Something about a prophecy, I think." He muttered and dragged a claw on the ground. "Now are you going to chew those leaves or what?"

"Something about a prophecy and that's all you have to say?"

"I don't know anything about it, but it sounded like a prophecy and- "

"We're surrounded by prophecies, too." Goldkit waved her tail at the walls. "Such gives us a sense for the possibility of prophecies happening to us." Spikekit nodded at her.

"Good point." He added. "But really, please chew those leaves."

"Fine, but after, we're going directly to the stream, where I can wash my mouth, and then I'm eating a warm rabbit," she retorted, thumping her teeth on the floor and tossing her head back. Spikekit snorted. Reaching forward to chew the leaves, Goldkit cringed at the unusual taste and ground them to a mashed pulp beneath her fine teeth before spitting them out and licking her lips, shuddering. Shaking her pelt to rid it of the stench, she bared her teeth at the leaves and swatted at them. Spikekit gave a loud yell of alarm and started dancing around the cave, tail sticking straight up as he twisted and turned, yellow pelt rippling. As soon as he was finished, he gave her a light thwack, nudging her with his snout crossly. 

"Don't do that," he snapped. "It takes ages to get them all together like this." Twisting, he managed to apply the herbs to the scratches on his back.

"But there are so many," Goldkit whined, suddenly realizing the extent of a medicine cat's job.

"Yup, and you could ruin them in a second with a large lash of your tail." He eyed her warily as she swung it slowly through the air. Dropping to a hunter's crouch, she let out a small meow and sprang upwards, arching her back and skidding to a stop just before a leaflet of herbs, on her toes. 

"Don't start," Spikekit warned. "I may not want to be a warrior, but I can still fight."

"But after my training, you won't be able to beat me." Goldkit squeaked. She felt the rise of excitement inside her again at the thought, and rolled over and back up, unable to quell the stir of eagerness in her limbs. "I'll be unstoppable," she added. Focusing, she made Whirlstar's fierce face as accurately as possible. "Rawr!!!" She tried. 

"You'll get there," her brother assured her. Although she could see the bright gleam, something was suddenly wary about him as he slunk past her, nose low to the ground and tail flying just above the stone floor. 

"You look like a dog," she observed. 

Spikekit raised his head. "And you're the size of a rabbit so don't go there." 

Puffing out her fur and showing her teeth, Goldkit exclaimed, "Easy there, coming from the cat the same size as me."

"I have to tend to your wounds," He snapped, interrupting their argument. Snagging a few leaves from a shelf at the back, he trotted back to her, chewing and spitting them out before plastering them over her scratches. "There," he muttered, looking her over. "We're finished here."

"Aren't you going to ask Whirlstar?" She asked. Spikekit only mutely shook his head, nosing through the leaves at the entrance and padding down the stairs. Bewildered, Goldkit followed, letting the intricate carvings pass in a blur as she eagerly emerged into the sunlight, shaking her head and letting her pelt warm. 

"Medicine cat?" A voice behind her made her whirl around. Whirlstar towered over Spikekit, who whimpered. "Medicine cat when you could become a fine Clan warrior?" The snarl buried deep in his voice made Goldkit shudder, especially as Whirlstar took a step forward and traced a claw down the fragile cub's chest. "Do you want me to kill you?" He asked. Spikekit mewled desperately and looked down. Shivers rushed down his spine and he cowered at the senior leopard's feet. "I could do it," Whirlstar was whispering, but Goldkit's sensitive ears managed to pick up the stream of conversation over the moor's wind. "I could do it and no one could tell me not to. It's not uncommon."

"But why?" Goldkit hardly knew what she was doing as she stepped up behind and lowered her head at the leader respectively. "What's so wrong with being medicine cat. He can save cats!"

"Little cub," Whirlstar narrowed his eyes at her. The deep, vicious pleasure in Skykit's eyes could be seen in his. "If cats become injured enough to die, then they do not deserve to live. Basic medicine skills, everyone should know. But if they injure themselves dearly, then they pay."

"How did you know?" Goldkit tilted her head at him.

"Know? Well, a lovely little cub with a golden pelt asked her brother when he would tell his leader the news." 

Suddenly, he was walking away, tail lashing over frightened Spikekit's face. "Cats that can't do self-preservation are most of the time useless to us, and do not deserve freedom of choice. But I've been looking for a helper for a while." Turning to face the cub, Whirlstar grinned with his wicked sharp teeth. "Restrain him," he called in a louder voice." Suddenly, leopard's whirled around him, shoving taunts and jokes his way. All their teeth were bared, their claws out, and their powerful tails thumping the ground, ready to block escape routes. Poor Spikekit huddled helplessly, shaking with fear. 

It was me, Goldkit realized as sudden feelings of guilt, shame, and anger poured over her. I did this to him. Unable to look, Goldkit walked away, tail down, as Spikekit was restrained, hating herself for taking away her only good brother's freedom. 

Lowering her head, Goldkit trotted into the darkness and coolness of the nursery several hours later, laying her head on her mother's nest and waiting for her return, to make everything right again. For her desperate guilt to be soothed by her mother's logical reason. For Spikekit to come back. The other kits trailed in soon, tired and sleepy, nestling in the nest and waiting. As Goldkit waited, Skykit snapped, "Is it true?"

"That Spikekit was restrained by Whirlstar? Yes." Goldkit burrowed her nose into the sand and sighed deeply, sorrow writhing on the inside.

"No, that you caused it." Skykit nudged her harshly, rolling her over to get the better spot in the nest and pushing her out. Goldkit sighed and picked her way among the moss, settling in besides Willowkit. 

"He told me, and Whirlstar overheard." Goldkit muttered, waiting in the dark for their parents and trying to repress images of Spikekit alone and restrained in the cold. Probably shivering in the moor's frosty night air, unable to warm himself. "And-"

"Who did it?" A sudden low growl punctuated the night's peace and her mother stomped in, long claws sinking into the dense moss and tail thumping the heads of her kits. "Who told Whirlstar?"

"Spikekit told me and Whirlstar overheard." Goldkit told her, bravely she thought, before Skykit could bend the story to his liking. 

"Told you what, exactly?" Her mother asked. Her voice was dangerously low, soft, and tense. A quiet hiss escaped her throat before she snapped her jaws shut, teeth clacking.

"That he wanted to be a medicine cat," Goldkit volunteered, kneading her claws on the thick moss as her muscles knit with tension.

"Liar," her mother whispered and swatted her. "Why would he do that?"

"He thinks that if a cat can't save itself, it should die." Goldkit whispered, ears smarting from the blow. "I don't know why, or understand. He-"

"Enough about our leader. What he thinks is his business. Whatever is best for the clan." The leopard recited the last sentence with a deadened voice, as if she didn't believe it anymore, and settled beside her kits, nudging each of them gently with her nose. "Let's all pray for your brother tonight, okay kits? My son." The other kits fell silent, aware of a sudden gentleness in their fierce mother, and Goldkit burrowed against her, feeling Skykit and Willowkit follow in her lead. Her mother's sheathed paw fell over Goldkit's pelt and she licked her cub lovingly. "Stay strong," she whispered. Goldkit tensed, unsure about her mother's protection over her, her sudden caress, but suddenly, she felt the shame wash from her body like the water washed away all grit, all dirt. For just a moment, everything was okay. For a moment, she could breathe.