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Clammask gives birth to three healthy mollies not long after Halibutdusk gets greencough. Worried, Clammask decides to name them early.
[Image ID: With Halibutdusk in the background sporting + CONDITION: GREENCOUGH under them, Clammask faces three newborn kits; one red tabby, one white tabby, one black tabby. Under the red tabby, it says NEW PLAYER: POTTERYKIT, 0, FEMALE, SELF-CONSCIOUS. The white kit says NEW PLAYER: MOONKIT, 0, FEMALE, QUIET. Lastly, the black kit says NEW PLAYER: VERVAINKIT, 0, FEMALE, FEARLESS. Under Clammask, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH.]
Somehow, giving birth to three kits was more exhausting than five. Perhaps it was all the stress of recent moons; Scrubmask’s death, three of Clammask’s four kits coming down with food poisoning, casually seeing Halibutdusk only to become pregnant… that was a lot for one molly to handle! Add in the fact that the moon did not shine over the Clans on the first day of autumn’s third moon when Clammask felt a familiar pain in her gut, and Halibutdusk was stuck in the quarantine den with a loud case of greencough, how could she not be stressed?
This kitting was shorter, thank StarClan. It was still nightfall when Clammask cleaned off her last little kit and helped her snuggle up to her belly. Oilstripe, Tallowkit, and Slushkit had vacated the nursery for a while to give Clammask room to kit, but Lemmy, her belly fat against her thin frame, still slept inside, dreams undisturbed by the new life born to the Clan. The only other cat in the nursery was Troutpool (Clammask simply couldn’t ask her own son to help deliver her kits, it felt so strange!).
The head cleric carefully examined the three mollies at Clammask’s side while the golden molly caught her breath. The first was red with markings that reminded Clammask of her father. The second-born kit was white, with pale gray rosettes along her back. Although she was still slick from birth, Clammask could tell she would be long-furred in the future. The youngest looked so much like Drumtooth that Clammask was taken aback for a moment.
“They all look very healthy,” Troutpool said, stepping back. She placed her dirty bowl (once full of strengthening medicine for the kitting) and the broken stick Clammask bit into a basket at the den’s edge. “I don’t notice any deformed limbs or other issues. I… I won’t try to predict their future this time.” Clammask licked each kit’s head. None of them looked like her lost golden daughter. Perhaps that was for the best. “Do you still want me to perform that ceremony we discussed?”
“It would make me feel better,” Clammask sighed. Troutpool nodded and stuck her face into her basket. She took out a tiny jar; the gouges carved in for teeth holds left little room on the inside. She peeled off the thin leather lid trapping the contents. The jar was full of dirt. Troutpool sprinkled a bit of dirt over each kitten’s back. Each was too caught up in the shock of being alive, mewing and nursing, to really care.
“Dustfur, Celestial of the Newborn,” Troutpool prayed, setting the jar at Clammask’s head, “you taught the Clans not to mourn the stillborn and those taken before they even got a chance to see the faces of their kin. You were the one who revealed to us how StarClan accompanies litters on their way to the Clans and return to Silverpelt when their time is done. One of Clammask’s kits was one of these StarClan guardians. We do not know what awaits these kits in the coming quarter moon, but we ask you, give them souls of their own. Allow them to grow into strong and proud individuals who will make RippleClan proud. Do not taunt Clammask once more by taking a kit away. Allow them all to live, Dustfur. Give us your celestial blessing.” The ritual done, Troutpool licked the dirt off the kittens, sneering at the taste.
“If one of your daughters is a StarClan warrior,” Troutpool explained, “performing this ritual so soon after their birth may allow them to become cats of their own, rather than a protector for the others.” Clammask nudged her little mollies back to her belly, purring as they cried outrage at yet another grooming. “When you feel strong enough, we can move you to a fresh nest and get rid of all this dirty moss. Do you need anything else?”
“Maybe a leather pelt over my back?” Clammask asked. “It’s a cold night.”
“I’ll also have Mosspounce build a fire outside the den when he wakes up,” Troutpool promised with a nod. She touched noses with Clammask and trotted off.
With a few moments alone in the nursery, Clammask stared at her daughters. Halibutdusk’s daughters too. Scrubmask wasn’t one to hold grudges, Clammask doubted she would be mad at her for finding another mate. But was she right for Halibutdusk? Her feelings for them were not a perfect match to her relationship with Scrubmask. Perhaps it was because she grew up alongside Halibutdusk, shared every heartbreak and celebration alongside them. Scrubmask was a whirlwind that pulled Clammask into a new life, a new family. Halibutdusk had just… always been there. They were the ocean, forever licking the shore, something whose absence Clammask could not imagine.
She prayed she would not have to live in that absence soon.
“I’ll warn you now,” Troutpool said, entering the den with a stitched-up pelt thrown across her back, “your sons are chomping at my tail to see you.” Troutpool threw the pelt over Clammask’s haunches.
“Send them in,” Clammask purred.
“We can come in? Finally!” Honeybuzz and Splashtuft shoved their way into the nursery, bumping shoulders to get a better look at their new siblings. Leathermask and Drumtooth lingered behind them, trying to catch a glimpse from the side. Honeybuzz and Splashtuft almost knocked Troutpool over.
“Is that all of them?” Leathermask gasped, squirming between his two boisterous brothers.
“They’re all mollies,” Clammask purred. “How funny is that?”
“Big brothers for little sisters,” Drumtooth hummed, finally managing to get into the den by shoving Splashtuft’s big flank to the side.
“I don’t suppose you can let me out?” Troutpool chuckled, slipping her basket around her neck.
“Sorry, Troutpool,” Splashtuft chirped. He moved to the side and knocked Drumtooth against the den wall. Troutpool left before she became the next victim of the litter’s excitement.
“How do you feel, Mom?” Honeybuzz asked. His clerical eye studied Clammask’s messy nest and the newborn shine on his sisters’ pelts.
“Very tired,” Clammask admitted, “but very happy. And I'm a little nervous if I’m honest.” Clammask nuzzled her daughters once more. “I want to do something, but I’m afraid you may judge me a little, Honeybuzz. I know I should wait to name them, like Scrubmask and I waited to name you four, but I don’t want to do that this time around. I want them to have names now.” Clammask was right; the enthusiasm in Honeybuzz’s face froze as he tried not to let it drop.
“Don’t do that,” Drumtooth huffed, appearing on the other side of the pack and shoving Honeybuzz’s shoulder.
“If you want,” Clammask sighed, “you can help name your sisters. We can keep it between the five of us for now.”
“Really?” Leathermask gasped softly. “Honeybuzz, let’s name the red kit first!” Honeybuzz squirmed a bit, but joined his brown-furred brother in study of their red-colored sister.
“Could we call her Redkit?” Honeybuzz suggested.
“That’s such a boring name,” Splashtuft scoffed. Clammask couldn’t help but laugh at that. He looked so much like Scrubmask in that moment.
“Troutpool left something behind,” Leathermask pointed out. The small jar with the ritual dust still sat at Clammask’s head. “Huh. The jar is the same color as the red kit’s fur. What if we called her Potterykit?”
“I approve,” Clammask purred. “Let your other brothers name the white molly.” Drumtooth squirmed closer to Splashtuft and they turned their gaze to the long-furred kitten.
“I want to name her Moonkit,” Drumtooth said.
“But our Clan’s guide is called Moonpaw,” Honeybuzz reminded him. “That feels… wrong, in a way.”
“StarClan isn’t going to ban the use of a prefix for the rest of history just because of one cat,” Splashtuft scoffed. “I like it, Drumtooth. Potterykit and Moonkit.”
“But what in the world do we call the last kitten?” Leathermask sighed. All four brothers leaned so close to the black molly, they were practically touching Clammask’s belly.
“I can’t think of a single good name for her,” Splashtuft muttered.
“Nightkit?” Leathermask suggested.
“How many black cats in history have been named Nightkit?” Drumtooth said. “Don’t we want our sister to stand out?”
“Hootkit?” Splashtuft laughed. “Do you want apprentices to make fun of her at Gatherings?”
“Hear me out, hear me out,” Drumtooth said, his soft voice catching his brothers’ attention. “Vervainkit.”
“But vervain is purple,” Splashtuft said.
“And drums are brown,” Drumtooth pointed out. “Vervains are pretty flowers. Something about their color reminds me of her.”
“Potterykit, Moonkit, and Vervainkit,” Clammask declared. She leaned over and nuzzled all of her kits, toms and mollies, newborn and adult. “Welcome to the family.” All four toms purred deeply.
“Do you think Halibutdusk will be upset that we named the kits without them?” Drumtooth wondered.
“To be fair,” Splashtuft chuckled, pulling back, “we don’t have to tell them.”
“I know you all said you were happy for me,” Clammask said, shuffling tighter around the newborns, “but I want to be sure here. They aren’t a replacement for Scrubmask. I wasn’t trying to do that.”
“We know, Mom,” Honeybuzz promised. “We’ll still love the kits. We’re happy to have little sisters to care for.” Clammask’s purrs took over her entire body. Her sons gathered around her and groomed her tired pelt as she soaked in the joy.
(Clammask: 59, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)
(Honeybuzz: 13, male, cleric, daring, constantly fiddling with tools)
(Splashtuft: 13, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)
(Leathermask: 13, male, warrior, nervous, great speaker, good fighter)
(Drumtooth: 13, trans male, caretaker, loyal, great hunter, clever)
(Potterykit: 0, female, kit, self-conscious)
(Moonkit: 0, female, kit, quiet)
(Vervainkit: 0, female, kit, fearless)
Lavendertwist works with the AshClan historians to make a proper record of the Rippling Ashes (Darkkick, Weedfoot, and Paleseed) and their exploits in the Dark Forest.
[Image ID: Lavendertwist and Splashtuft face a black rosette apprentice. Under her, it says NEW PLAYER: MITEPAW, 7, FEMALE, INSECURE, QUICK TO MAKE PEACE.]
---
“It’s hard to believe our former leader would grow to hate us so much…” sighed Minkshine, an AshClan historian. She and two other historians, Blackmist and Comfreytoe, sat along the AshClan border while Lavendertwist and Splashtuft lounged on their side, sharing tongues with their forest counterparts. It was sunhigh, after all, and if the group was going to spend most of the day describing the official story of the Rippling Ashes, Lavendertwist and Splashtuft were going to relax.
“When you’re stuck in your ways like he was,” Lavendertwist sighed, “friends can quickly become enemies.”
“So Autumnstar used his Dark Forest powers to curse AshClan…” Blackmist muttered, grooming Splashtuft’s long fur as he spoke. “So many of our friends and family died because of him… their names have to be recorded in the story. All of them.”
“Ah, name memorization,” Lavendertwist chuckled, squirming. “My old nemesis.”
“I can handle that,” Splashtuft chirped. “Start listing out names, Blackmist.”
“Actually,” Comfreytoe groaned, glancing back into the trees of AshClan, “we’re still waiting on someone. She should be here before we continue.”
“Who’s our special guest?” Lavendertwist asked, leaves crunching underneath him as he rolled onto his back.
“Someone who needs a fresh start,” Comfreytoe sighed.
“It’s still hard to believe Eelstar and Barkfur agreed to this,” Blackmist muttered, letting Splashtuft take a turn grooming him, “but if Mitepaw can find some peace from it, so be it.”
“Mitepaw?” Lavendertwist hummed.
“I’m here!” a young voice gulped. While Lavendertwist heard the cat crunching leaves under her paws and panting, he only saw her once she stood in front of a pale bush. She was one of the blackest cats Lavendertwist had ever seen, with even blacket rosette markings. Pale yellow eyes bounced between Lavendertwist and Splashtuft. Bouldersong, one of AshClan’s caretakers, joined the small apprentice.
“RippleClan,” Bouldersong purred, placing his tail on the apprentice’s back, “I would like you to meet Mitepaw. She would like to join your Clan.”
“What?” Splashtuft gasped, sitting up so quickly that his head smacked Blackmist’s jaw.
“Both of her parents died as a result of the chronic frostbite that kept infecting our older Clanmates,” Minkshine explained as Mitepaw rubbed a paw deep into the leaf litter. “She’s struggled in our Clan ever since. We believe that in order to give her a fresh start, she needs to leave our home for another. Since RippleClan’s developed a reputation for accepting wayward apprentices, we thought she would fit in well with you.”
“Eelstar is letting one of his apprentices join RippleClan?” Lavendertwist scoffed. “I thought he hated us.”
“His opinions are more nuanced than you’d think,” Comfreytoe insisted. “Mitepaw is an artisan apprentice. She has a knack for woodwork and should take to your Clan’s crafts well.”
“You really want to join us, Mitepaw?” Splashtuft asked. He risked crossing the border to approach the small apprentice. Since no one clawed his ears off, he kept going. “This isn’t a decision you can take back.” Mitepaw hesitated, words getting caught in her mouth. She looked at her Clanmates, as though waiting for someone to snap at her. She swallowed hard.
“I don’t like AshClan,” Mitepaw said. “Everyone is grieving. It makes it hard to breathe. I don’t want to grow up in a Clan that’s carrying such hurt with them.” The AshClan historians grew lost as Mitepaw explained herself. No one countered her claim.
“I’m sure Downstar will welcome you, then,” Splashtuft purred, touching noses with Mitepaw.
“You can always talk to your old Clanmates at Gatherings, Mitepaw,” Bouldersong sighed. “I hope RippleClan will be better for you than we have been.” Bouldersong licked Mitepaw’s ear. The young apprentice purred softly. She left Bouldersong’s side and joined Splashtuft.
“So you’ll take her to your camp when we’re finished here?” Minkshine asked.
“Absolutely,” Lavendertwist promised as Splashtuft led Mitepaw across the border. “We have just the mentor for her.”
(Lavendertwist: 31, male, historian, playful, great singer, good storyteller)
(Splashtuft: 13, male, historian, adventurous, fast runner, student of art)
(Mitepaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, quick to make peace)
[Image ID: Rapidleaf, Asterpaw, and Elmsprout stand behind Mitepaw as she listens to Rattlepelt say, “It will be better for you to live in a Clan that is loyal to its members. You’ve escaped a rotten place, Mitepaw.”]
Later that day, as RippleClan buzzed with sunset activity, Mitepaw took in the sights of her new home. The shipwreck was so tall! Despite the late autumn cold, the sand felt warm from the sun. Even the air felt lighter in RippleClan! This was the right choice, Mitepaw was certain of it. There was a glimmer in everyone’s eyes as they surrounded her following her new apprentice ceremony. She soaked it all in as she stood beside her strange and famous new mentor; Rattlepelt.
“Mitepaw!” A long-furred gray molly made her way to the front of the crowd of unfamiliar faces. A brown molly and a silver tom followed close behind.
“Hello,” Mitepaw chirped softly, bowing to the strangers.
“No need to bow to your Clanmates in this Clan!” the silver molly said. “You’ve probably heard about me. I’m Elmsprout.”
“Oh, Eelstar’s daughter,” Mitepaw gasped. She took Elmsprout in a second time; she could see Eelstar’s color in Elmsprout’s darker tints. “Your father’s told the kits about you.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Elmsprout chuckled. “He and I have… an awkward relationship. I wanted to make sure I could talk to you after your ceremony, because I’ve been where you are. We all have. We’re a bit of a Clan-within-a-Clan, you could say. We’ve all left our original Clans to join RippleClan. This is Rapidleaf and Asterpaw.”
“I’ll show you how to adapt to life in RippleClan,” Asterpaw promised, raising his tail high.
“Leaving my Clan was hard for me as well,” Rapidleaf said with a nod. “Like you, staying in LynxClan would have been too painful. RippleClan has built itself on second chances. Elmsprout befriended me as we both recovered from a bought of food poisoning a few moons ago, and we’ve both looked after Asterpaw since his arrival. If you need help, we promise to look after you, too.”
“That’s…” Mitepaw purred, her whole body rippling, “that’s amazing!”
“It will be better for you to live in a Clan that is loyal to its members.” Oh, right! Rattlepelt was still standing there! She was so unlike any other cat Mitepaw had ever seen. Who else would have the courage to wear a fox pelt? She looked more like a fearsome warrior than the talented artisan Lavendertwist and Splashtuft made her out to be on the walk to RippleClan. “You’ve escaped a rotten place, Mitepaw.”
“I’m excited to learn under you, Artisan Rattlepelt,” Mitepaw said, bowing once more.
“Mitepaw, we don’t bow here!” Elmsprout laughed.
“Leave her be,” Rattlepelt scoffed. “If she wants to bow and use honorable titles, let her. It’s nice to be respected. Now Mitepaw, how would you like to learn the intricacies of leather-making from a master?” Mitepaw’s eyes sparkled. Learn to craft a leather pelt with the quality and skill of Rattlepelt’s fox fur? Learning in a Clan so bright and welcoming, under a mentor that was clearly wise and strong and clever, better than her old mentor in every way?
“Yes please!”
(Mitepaw: 7, female, artisan apprentice, insecure, quick to make peace)
Tallowkit reminds himself it will all be okay while Slushkit chews on a stick.
[Image ID: Tallowkit says “She won’t choke, she won’t choke…” as he watches Slushkit. Under Tallowkit, it says + NEW SKILL: SPLASHES IN PUDDLES. Under Slushkit, it says + NEW SKILL: QUICK WITTED.]
(Tallowkit: 1, male, kit, skittish, splashes in puddles)
(Slushkit: 1, female, kit, polite, quick witted)
Scaleripple and Tempestshade officially become mates.
[Image ID: Scaleripple and Tempestshade face each other. Under Scaleripple, it says + MATE: TEMPESTSHADE. Under Tempestshade, it says + MATE: SCALERIPPLE.]
---
Scaleripple couldn’t help but be in awe of Troutpool and Honeybuzz’s skill. When he had found Tempestshade half a moon prior, leg encased in a shimmering silver jaw, he had been certain it would have to come off. Yet there they were, half a moon later and still possessing four legs, even if one was so bandaged and slathered in ointment that it could hardly be called a leg. Honeybuzz had changed the bandages not so long ago, but Scaleripple could already see dots of blood leaking through. Not that Troutpool and Honeybuzz would notice; no, when Scaleripple visited Tempestshade that day, the Clan had a bit more exciting news to swallow.
“Our instincts are never more controlling than when a queen is kitting,” Troutpool explained to Mosspounce, waiting eagerly outside the den as she and Honeybuzz collected a few supplies into a basket. “Lemmy will know what to do with her kits, but she’ll need spiritual and emotional support. We’ll be with her the entire time, Mosspounce.”
“Are you sure Tempestshade can’t join us?” Mosspounce groaned, glancing around Troutpool to Tempestshade, whose nest sat in a quiet, warm corner of the medicine den. Scaleripple sat beside her, ice-faced and observant. “I want my kits to meet all of their kin.”
“Mosspounce, your kits won’t be able to meet anyone for a while,” Honeybuzz laughed. He slipped the basket around his neck. “They’re born with their eyes and ears shut. They’ll get to meet Tempestshade in the future, don’t worry.”
“But I wanna meet them,” Tempestshade whined. They laid sprawled across the nest, mangled leg carefully frozen on the edge. Their dark green eyes lacked some of their usual sparkle, devoured by the pain.
“You will, I promise,” Mosspounce said. Honeybuzz joined Mosspounce outside the den and the two trotted to the nursery. Troutpool, however, lingered, eyes wandering to Scaleripple.
“Will you be okay while we help Lemmy?” Troutpool asked.
“I won’t die,” Scaleripple growled. He laid in a loaf against Tempestshade’s nest, ignoring Troutpool’s gaze. Tempestshade chuckled, a soft, almost feverish sound. Troutpool shuffled her paws about.
“I didn’t want to have that vision,” Troutpool gulped. “I thought revealing it would spare Tempestshade a guilty verdict and protect RippleClan. I wouldn’t use StarClan to hurt them.”
“Did I say that’s what you did?” Scaleripple scoffed, daring to look up, even if Troutpool’s awkward expression made his skin hurt. “You don’t need to explain yourself. You just have to live with making Tempestshade a living omen of death.” Troutpool bowed her head low, closing her eyes. She followed her former apprentice and Mosspounce to the nursery, where Scaleripple could already hear Lemmy panting with the effort of her kitting.
“You showed her,” Tempestshade mumbled, purring. Scaleripple stared at Tempestshade. Why were they seemingly the only cats who truly understood the other? Scaleripple’s family loved him, he was certain of that, but did they know him like Tempestshade? Did they understand the strange way he worked, which separated him from everyone else? And did anyone else in the Clan dare to face the blunt of Tempestshade’s curse just to spend time with them? Did they appreciate their youthfulness, their honesty, their loyalty? From everything Scaleripple knew, two cats who were as close as he was to Tempestshade could only be called one thing.
“Tempestshade, are we mates?” he asked. Tempestshade cocked their head. A little life came back to their eyes.
“Haven’t we been mates since the summer?” they laughed. Oh. Well then.
“Maybe so,” Scaleripple purred. He rested his head on the edge of Tempestshade’s nest, a whisker length from their nose. Tempestshade hummed happily. They stretched and quickly touched noses with Scaleripple.
Mosspounce wants to be a father with different motivations than his own, and feels proud when Lemmy delivers four healthy kits.
[Image ID: Lemmy and Mosspounce watch four newborn kits; a tortoiseshell, a black molly, a silver molly, and a gray tabby. Under Lemmy, it says - CONDITION: PREGNANT, + CONDITION: RECOVERING FROM BIRTH. The tortoiseshell says NEW PLAYER: WEEVILKIT, 0, FEMALE, BULLYING. The black molly says NEW PLAYER: RAVENKIT, 0, FEMALE, SWEET. The silver kit says NEW PLAYER: SILVERKIT, 0, FEMALE, DAYDREAMER. Finally, the gray tabby says NEW PLAYER: WOLFKIT, 0, FEMALE, POLITE.]
(Lemmy: 41, female, codekeeper, cold, deep StarClan bond)
(Weevilkit: 0, female, kit, bullying)
(Ravenkit: 0, female, kit, sweet)
(Silverkit: 0, female, kit, daydreamer)
(Wolfkit: 0, female, kit, polite)
Downstar is almost intimidated by the knowledge Asterpaw has gained in his short time in RippleClan and confidently names him Asterblaze.
[Image ID: Asterpaw, now Asterblaze, is an adult! Under him, it says LEVEL UP! ASTERPAW -> ASTERBLAZE, HAS LOTS OF IDEAS -> CONSTANTLY FIDDLING WITH TOOLS.]
(Asterblaze: 12, male, caretaker, thoughtful, constantly fiddling with tools)
While Troutpool and Honeybuzz are on patrol, Troutpool sees strange shimmers in the distance. They encounter a kittypet who grew up with old stories of RippleClan and wanted to raise her kits in the wild. Troutpool and Honeybuzz help welcome five more kits to the nursery.
[Image ID: Troutpool and Honeybuzz approach a brown and white molly and five kits; one light brown, two red, and two brown, all with white markings. Undee the mother, it says NEW PLAYER: HARVEST, 53, FEMALE, NERVOUS, GOOD FIGHTER. Under the light brown kit, it says NEW PLAYER: ANCHOVYKIT, 0, MALE, CHARMING. Under the upper red kit, it says NEW PLAYER: CURRENTKIT, 0, MALE, POLITE. The second red kit says NEW PLAYER: ROBINKIT, 0, MALE, UNRULY. The first dark brown cat in the upper corner says NEW PLAYER: YARROWKIT, 0, FEMALE, NOISY. The last brown kit says NEW PLAYER: BILLOWKIT, 0, MALE, BOSSY.]
Working on updating pretty much all of my characters. Some got very little updated and others got a pretty big redo. Overall I think they’re way more appealing and cohesive, and I’m getting better at drawing tabbies and torties
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Both Ferncloud and Snowbird are expecting kits at the time of the battle.
Snowbird’s are born first, about a moon after the battle. She has three daughters: Beekit, a plump white molly with black ears and green eyes; Yarrowkit, a ginger trans molly with yellow eyes; and Bluebellkit, a deaf white molly with blue eyes. They all train as warriors, and Toadstep is actually Bluebellkit’s eventual mentor, as he and Furzepelt both had to learn to communicate without voices since both of them have weak voices.
Ferncloud has her litter about half a moon or so later. She has two daughters and two sons, and names them after fallen ThunderClan cats. Her daughters are: Dustkit, a pale gray molly with darker flecks and pale amber eyes; and Cloudkit, a pale gray tabby molly with green eyes. Her sons are: Leafkit, a dark gray tabby tom with pale green eyes; and Poppykit, a dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes (spitting image of Dustpelt). Poppykit decides to become a medicine cat, while his brother and sisters become warriors.
Their full names will be posted along with the other kits and apprentices in another post.
#cats of tumblr
#lana del rey
#horror movies
#photography
