The kit looked around, tumbling over its clumsy paws. Loud yowls sounded outside the hollow where it and its brother had been sleeping. It looked at its light-yellow body and frowned. Green eyes met green eyes as it stared at its brother.

"What's happening?" the kit asked its brother.

"I don't know." He replied quietly.

The kit turned around and faced the entrance of the hollow and stared at it, unmoving, with pale, determined green eyes.

A loud yowl split the air. The kit jumped, its brother coming out to nuzzle it. All of a sudden, a sickly smell wafted into the den. The kit sniffed the air cautiously, instinctively reaching for its brother.

A body thumped into the den. It was the kit's father. A handsome brown tabby he was.

Was.

The kit gasped as it realized its father wasn't moving. It moved towards the body, trembling. Its brother blocked its path defensively.

Red liquid pooled from the kit's father's body. A droplet of it reached its paws and it touched it with its tiny pink tongue, curious. Its brother's fur bristled as he watched it like a protective brother would.

The kit recoiled, licking its fur nervously. It had tasted sweet and salty at the same time.

Its brother pushed it back and stood at the entrance, jagged, white points bared from its mouth.

Another yowl split the air.

The kit crept towards its brother, longing for the warmth of its fur. Its father still hadn't moved.

Paw steps thumped at the entrance of the hollow.

The kit poked its head out, not realizing the danger that threatened its family. Not realizing the rogues that had invaded its camp. A silver claw flashed at it, cutting its cheek, and it yelped. It stung and it struggled to lick it.

The kit crawled back into the hollow, not long before a soothing scent came in, covered in the red liquid.

Mother.

Both kits struggled towards their mother, crying out with trembling mews.

Mother licked it, soothing it, before turning to its brother.

"You, my dear daughter, will be known as Spark Who Never Burns Out, for the spark that will never burn out in you." Mother said in a trembling tone. "And you, my son, shall be known as Fire That Flickers and Burns, for the hardness that will keep you alive. Spark and Fire for short."

Mother's voice trembled and Spark felt danger pressing in on them. She let out a mew of warning and crept into a hole at the back of the den. She watched her mother turn towards her before silver claws flashed at Mother. The large cat crashed to the ground. The claws turned on her brother...no, Fire.

Spark watched, a silent burning her eyes, a silent cry in her throat, as Firefell to the ground.

"NOOOO!"

Spark had watched her father die.

Spark had watched her mother die.

Spark had watched Fire die.

Spark wanted to die herself.

She curled into a ball, miserable, and stayed there, even as a chunk of rock and vine fell on her, breaking her fragile body.