Brightstorm walked through the snow. In the middle of the night, she felt a call to the forest. She was full of grief for her kit, who had died a couple hours after he was born. She shook the thoughts away. Her mate was killed as well, and she never had siblings. She felt like an outsider. Brightstorm then heard a squeak. Prey? No, it's too... cat-like.. She heard a tiny mew. Kits! She raced through the snow and stopped at a hollow tree. The mewing was loud. Brightstorm looked inside the tree and saw three tiny kits. They had the same unique swirly stripes, just all different colors. One was a white she-kit with faint stripes, one was another she-kit with light gray fur and slightly darker stripes, and the last one, a tom, was a smoky gray, with darker stripes. And their eyes were still closed, giving her the knowledge these were barely two day old kits. Who would leave such young kits? Brightstorm thought angrily. I have to take them to ShadowClan and... and maybe I can raise them... She picked them up, surprised at how light they were. She came back to camp as fast as she could. Mintwing was guarding the entrance to the camp. ''I found them at the hollow tree,'' Brightstorm panted, placing the kits at her paws. Mintwing gave them a look of pity and grabbed the tom-kit. Together they ran to the nursery, and Brightstorm curled around them. Mintwing murmured softly, ''I'll tell Falconstar'' Brightstorm nodded. She was tired, and these kits were eating already. She purred as Mintwing padded away. She lay her head on her paws and closed her eyes. She gave the kits a loving sniff and her eyes snapped open. She recognized those tabby markings! Slatefang... One of the most dangerous cats.... but he was dead! She gasped. These kits were his heirs!