From across the camp, the golden-colored tom heard yowls of agony. His ears flattened in distaste. Sure, Whitebird was his mate, but he was too queasy to watch a kitting. That job was for his sister, Robinflight. After a while, they quieted. The tom stepped into the nursery, where the beautiful, pure white she cat was resting. Tucked next to her belly were two wonderful kits. One was a golden tabby tom with curly fur, just like him. He purred, pleased. The other one was a very light silver, almost light. She had a white muzzle and paws, and one ear was white too. "They're beautiful," he whispered, licking his mate's ear. "What shall we name them? For the golden one, I was thinking... Ryekit?" "It's perfect," Whitebird breathed. "And for the other one, how about Silentkit?" "I love it," the tom purred. "Ryekit and Silentkit. My two amazing kits."
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