Chapter 38-

                                                       Two moons later

Sagestar is angry. No, pure fury courses like venom through the tom, and he works his paws into the moss of his nest, tearing it into thin shreds.

How could she? We're siblings. 

Smoothpearl had given birth to four healthy mewling kits. Three toms, one she-kit. Sagestar could barely look at the ugly scraps. Sure, Sagestar's and Smoothpearl's relationship isn't the best, in fact it's frankly bad, but hiding kits from him? That's just low. Sagestar had noticed her swelling stomach and the way Yewmist doated over the she-cat, no, the way the whole clan doated, but he'd chalked it up to her being a pretty she-cat. Maybe even a popular one. But not this. 

And now Smoothpearl just has kits, without telling Sagestar she was going to do so? They aren't part of his clan, as far as he's concerned. They barely exist, really. 

But now, from the nursery, their little tiny cries can be heard and his clanmates came bearing news of cute little yawns and tiny milk mustaches. It isn't fair. Sagestar should've known, should've noticed. But he hadn't. He'd been too busy making sure the little scrap Cricketkit didn't snitch on him. He'd already found a way to shut the tom-kit up before his ceremony. He'd just make sure he couldn't speak. That easy. 

But now Sagestar has another problem. How can he punish Smoothpearl for her misdeeds? Or her defenseless kits, who technically deserve it just as much. Sagestar doesn't know. He can't kill his sister; it'd be too suspicious, clearly. The kits could be easier to stage. 

For once, Sagestar could take inspiration from Snapstar. 

No. Sagestar tries to be firm to himself, quickly rejecting the thought. Plus, who said Sagestar needs to kill the kit? He can just as easily just...take it away. It'd hurt the same, without the guilt. But it'd have to be quick, and when the kits are older. The weather will be warm, the kit at least a little strong, strong enough to survive and perhaps eat a little prey just in case the other clans don't have nursing queens. Perhaps Sagestar would take away the least strong kit, the skittish one, or maybe the rude one. The one that didn't want to be a warrior, or such. 

It's going to be okay.

Sagestar will try to like the kits, at least for a while. Perhaps that starts with meeting them and learning each of their names. 

Sagestar forces his mind to be quiet and his fur to lie flat. His plan is perfect. He wouldn't be a monster for taking the kit to a different clan. Whichever kit it was would be fine, perfectly fine, and he could sustain the urge for revenge while helping the clan. He would only be removing the weak link, after all, the least helpful. 

Sagestar rises to his paws with a small smile on his face, ducking to avoid the rough rock walls above his head as he slinks out of the den. 

The tom makes his way to the nursery quickly, feigning pure excitement. It isn't really hard. He does feel excited, to some degree. Smoothpearl having kits is a little exciting, considering they're family, even if barely. He's an uncle now. Something, except his clan, is his. 

Sagestar's nephews and niece.

Sagestar ducks into the milk and moss smelling nursery, blinking to adjust his eyes to the sudden darkness. Inside its confines hold little mews of pleasure. Little kits. Smoothpearl's eyes are blue and rich, filled with such a love Sagestar has only seen in Aloestar's eyes, when he was young. Smoothpearl looks up, and instantly all love disappears. Her eyes go cold, her tail suddenly wrapped protectively over her litter of kittens. 

"Sagestar. Greetings," The orange white she-cat says cautiously, "I'm not supposed to have visitors and-" 

"You let everyone else visit," Sagestar interjects firmly, "And, after all, they're my kin. I should be able to see them." Sagestar draws himself to his full height, trying to see the little kits entrapped in the she-cat's loving gaze and firm tail. He wants to see the smallest one, mostly, but also the one who mews the loudest and quietest. 

"You know why that's different," Smoothpearl says carefully, giving one black kit head a lick. The little kit squeals. Sagestar feels his heart harden with anger, and maybe a mix of hate. 

"They're my kin," Sagestar hisses, claws coming out, "Mine."  Smoothpearl freezes, looking rigidly from the sharp weapons to Sagestar's agitated face. 

"Sagestar," she says, not fearfully, but dangerously, "You've never been a mother. You're not a father. But do you know what Aloestar was willing to do for us? Do you know what I'm willing to do to you, if you even look at these kits wrong? Do you know what Flickerfire said to me, moons ago? He'll gut you, Sagestar. Yewmist will too, he'll tear out your throat and eat it. So take a singular step closer and I'll make sure to make you regret for the next short portion of your life." The she-cat's face is smooth, like she is simply warning Sagestar what will happen. Like she actually cares about what will happen. 

Sure. 

Sagestar narrows his eyes, a growl bubbling in his throat. Smoothpearl stares back, straight into Sagestar's eyes. Sagestar isn't scared of her. He doesn't look away; it'd make him look weak. Instead he slowly lets four small words roll off of his lips. 

"You'll pay for this." 

                                                                            ~~~

Flickerfire is more than thrilled at the birth of his sister's kits. He can't visit them instantly, not exactly. Sure, he'd been at the birth, but it'd been without Tumblecry, kind of like a twisted test. It'd been way too stressful to enjoy, and Smoothpearl's screeches had made his stomach roll and vomit bubble in his throat. But he didn't puke, instead he'd licked off a tiny tortoiseshell tom and put him to Smoothpearl's head. He'd given a little reddish kit to Yewmist, who'd nearly cried with happiness. 

Flickerfire had done okay, but Smoothpearl had done even better. The tom had felt the strongest pride ever, looking at his nephews and niece. But Tumblecry had called him out from the den, saying they had other work to do. They hadn't, but clearly Smoothpearl had needed rest, so Flickerfire had left that alone. Fringestrike had surprisingly been overjoyed with the kits, complimenting them and telling her they were perfect. Flickerfire didn't even get glared at. 

Flickerfire licks his paw and runs it over his head for the fifth time in a row, feeling the already smoothed fur being pressed further down. The tom is almost anxious as Tumblecry's gray-blue head peeks in through the medicine cat's den entrance. The she-cat frowns at Flickerfire even through the small mouse she holds. The she-cat carefully sets the mouse down, tail settling on Flickerfire's back. "Nervous about seeing your sister?" Flickerfire frowns. 

"I mean...of course," the tom sighs, his paws shuffling anxiously, "I've seen them before but... I don't know their names, I don't know their personalities, I don't-" 

"No one does," Tumblecry says softly, "They're kits, Flickerfire. For at least a moon, no cat will know their personalities fully. As for their names, go find them out." Tumblecry isn't smiling, but she looks almost close to it. Flickerfire smiles anxiously. He should. 

Flickerfire barely nods before he shoots himself from the den, tail curled and mouth basically grinning. He's so thankful that the nursery is so close to the medicine cat's den, just across from it. The tom is forced to slow into a trot as he approaches the nursery, slipping into the inky darkness. 

The den does not smell of milk and comforting moss nests. It smells of anger and Sagestar. Instantly, Flickerfire pauses, fur bristling at the smell of anger. Smoothpearl's and Sagestar's.  Flickerfire all but bolts in. Something bad could be happening. 

Flickerfire nearly bumps into a puffed-up Sagestar, who doesn't seem to notice the white tom. Flickerfire's pelt ripples with anger and unease. Flickerfire slips around Sagestar to get in between the two. He tries to remain calm, but his voice comes out as an angry hiss. 

"Sagestar, what is the meaning of this?" 

"None of your business," Sagestar spits instantly, with no hesitation, tail flicking, "I was just leaving. And you should too, because she's 'not having visitors.'" Flickerfire looks to Smoothpearl, and her wide eyes are hard and cold. She shakes her head slightly, gaze locked onto the retreating Sagestar. 

"Smoothpearl," Flickerfire almost whispers to his sister as Sagestar tail tip disappears out of the den, "...Are the kits okay? They're...louder." Smoothpearl finally peels her gaze away from Sagestar's previous spot, but her eyes search her kits instead. Flickerfire backs away to give her space, hoping nothing is physically wrong. 

"I'm angry," Smoothpearl sighs, "Remember being a kit? If Aloestar was angry, we were even angrier." Flickerfire nods, breathing out a puff of air. He doesn't press, he doesn't ask about Sagestar, he just peers at the four wriggling bodies, little pink mouths pressing out shrill little mews. 

"I know their names," Smoothpearl is suddenly smiling, eyes full of motherly love, "The reddish one, that's almost brown, is Rustkit. The little tortie tom there, my smallest, is Mallardkit. Mallard's twin, here, the one with the white spot on his nose, is Snailkit. And this kit here, the white one with little black spots, is Myrtlekit. She's the only she-cat." 

"They're perfect," Flickerpaw purrs, crouching down beside his sister. To his relief, her tail falls away, allowing the kits to flop down and sprawl across the mossy sheet. The little pinkish paw of Myrtlekit reaches out as she yawns and stretches, eyes closed and her jaw making little clicking noises as it closes. She's so cute, so precious, and Flickerfire dissolves into a smiling bundle. This moment is perfect. 

"She's lucky, to have so many brothers," Flickerfire comments, nudging the little black-headed kit towards her littermates. The she-kit squeals indignantly. Smoothpearl and Flickerfire laugh together, softly as to not disturb the dozing kits. 

"She is," Smoothpearl nods, giving her she-kit a lick, "I was worried I'd have a big litter, earlier, but...it seems just like a blessing now." Smoothpearl is suddenly frowning, looking thoughtful. "I'm worried though, Flickerfire. I can see it in Sagestar's eyes, ya know?" 

"See what?" Flickerfire asks instantly, tail intertwining with Smoothpearl's for comfort, "Did he try to hurt you? Did he tell you anything?" 

"No...no. Not really but I swear he's dangerous. I don't know why or how or..." Smoothpearl trails off, a thick worry in her eyes. "I know I can't protect my kits forever but he just reminds me so much of Snapstar." Smoothpearl sighs, and Flickerfire gives the she-cat a reassuring lick. 

"You're right to worry," Flickerfire says cautiously, "I do too, sometimes, but I try not to. He's done nothing wrong-" 

"Yet," Smoothpearl gives her daughter a quick lick, "But...there's always something on my mind." The she-cat looks almost nervous, guilty, as if she'd done something wrong. She hadn't. Flickerfire is almost sure of it. 

"What?" 

"Well...It's just...Obviously Snapstar didn't really like me, or care for me that much but...I loved him. So much. He never hurt me, either. He never really hurt anyone in front of me. It's hard to hate him so much when I never saw him hurting. Same with Voidflicker. It's hard to love him, even if I technically should, when he's done nothing but hurt. It's...awful." Flickerfire lets her finish, even though he itches to interrupt, to ensure the she-cat that he feels the same sometimes. 

"Family is chosen, not just...there," Flickerfire says after a long thoughtful pause, "You chose Yewmist. You can pick who you choose, sis." The tom licks his sister between the ears, and she pulls away, face looking conflicted. Flickerfire scoots away to give the she-cat some space, trying to soften his eyes a little more. 

"And if you don't choose Sagestar, that's okay."