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| - A black-and-white she-cat hurried through the falling rain. The ground was unfamiliar, but she sought only a safe place to have her kits. Another spasm rocked her thin body, and she stopped, exhausted. Curling under the shadow of a bush, she waited. There was nothing else to do. "Hawk." She touched the brown tabby tom with her tail. "Patch." She smiled at the black-and-white she-kit, so like herself. "And what about you, little one?" She gently licked the smallest: a silvery tabby she-kit. "How about... Song. Yes, that's perfect. Welcome to the world, my precious kits."
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| abstract
| - A black-and-white she-cat hurried through the falling rain. The ground was unfamiliar, but she sought only a safe place to have her kits. Another spasm rocked her thin body, and she stopped, exhausted. Curling under the shadow of a bush, she waited. There was nothing else to do. "Hawk." She touched the brown tabby tom with her tail. "Patch." She smiled at the black-and-white she-kit, so like herself. "And what about you, little one?" She gently licked the smallest: a silvery tabby she-kit. "How about... Song. Yes, that's perfect. Welcome to the world, my precious kits." The she-cat tensed. A cat was approaching. No, more than one, four or five. She knew this moment would come, but her kits were only a moon old. Why so soon? She had scented the cats as she hunted alone. They traveled in groups, hunting or scent-marking. She had never strayed beyond their markers, and neither had they. So why were they here now? "Mother?" Hawk's golden eyes were wide with curiousity. "What's wrong?" She smiled. So much like his father. "Nothing my dear," she said, sweeping her three kits under the large bush with her tail. "Just stay here and remain quiet." The she-cat stepped in front of the bush, ready to face the cats. And defend her kits with her life. The first cat to emerge was a large, handsome tabby tom. The spring sunlight glinted on his brown fur, and his muscles rippled smoothly. The she-cat tensed. If all the cats were like this strong tom, she stood no chance. But she had to try. For her kits. For Oscar. I won't let your kits die. You gave up your life for us, and I will do the same. But the tom, and the three cats who followed him into the clearing, didn't look evil. Stern yes, but not mean. He parted his jaws, then frowned. Before he could say anything, a small she-cat, her sleek ginger fur glistening, stepped in front of him. "Who are you?" she snarled. The she-cat's fur fluffed up. "I did not come into your territory. Why have you come here?" "Stand back Fireflower," the brown tom said. His voice was deep and gruff, yet had a musical lilt to it. The she-cat thought she could listen to him talk forever. Snap out of it, she shook herself. "We do not wish to hurt you. Perhaps we might even help," the tom continued, as the ginger she-cat stepped back. "I am Pinestar, leader of WaterClan. What is your name?" The she-cat hesitated. Then she looked into the tom's steady golden-brown gaze, and knew she could trust him. "Maribel." "Maribel," he repeated. "Not a clan name." Maribel twitched her ears, not sure what he meant. "Sorry," the tom said. "I suppose you've never heard of us. WaterClan, TreeClan, and LightningClan?" She shook her head. "Please," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Don't hurt my kits." The cats did not look surprised. They had smelled the milk-scent on her. "We would never hurt them," promised Pinestar. "Maribel," he said, "How would you like to join WaterClan?" Maribel glanced backwards. Song's head poked out of the bushes. They will be safer with more cats around. She looked at the cats. "Okay."
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