Lightning flashed and thunder roared. Cragkit squirmed closer to Strikefeather's belly, seeking warmth from the chilly air. He was four moons old now, nearly too big to share the nest with his mother and Nightkit anymore.

Hollykit, Cardinalkit, and Fleckkit were growing quickly as well. The nursery was feeling cramped, and it didn't help that Sedgeflight's belly was so big.

Suddenly, a low moan rose from within the den. Cragkit poked his head up, amber eyes dilating to the darkness. Sedgeflight was hunched over in her nest, clear pain drawn across her face. The little gray tom froze.

"Strikefeather!" He exclaimed, turning to his mother and urgently prodding her side. "Strikefeather, wake up!"

Strikefeather stirred, blinking open her amber eyes. "What is it, Cragkit?" The queen sighed, drawing her gaze to the tom.

Cragkit lifted his eyes to hers, round like twin amber moons. "Something's wrong with Sedgeflight," he mewled, wrapping his tail anxiously around his haunches.

Strikefeather burst to her paws, waking Nightkit with her sudden movement. The black tom squeaked in frustration, casting a sour glare to his mother.

Strikefeather, ignoring her son's protests, hurried to Sedgeflight's side. "Are you all right? What hurts?" She fretted, gently cresting a paw over the queen's swollen stomach.

"I think..." Sedgeflight's face screwed up amid the pain. "I think my kits are coming."

"I'll go fetch Stumpwhisker for you," Strikefeather promised, pressing her nose gently to the queen's forehead. "Cragkit," the tom stood at attention as his mother addressed him, "wake the others and take them to the elder's den."

"To the elder's den? Through the storm?" Cragkit gasped.

"Yes, through the storm."

"But—"

"Cragkit, do as I say!"

Strikefeather lashed her tail and darted outside without another word. Cragkit stood, frozen in shock, before shaking himself out of his dazed state. He hurried to Vixensong's side and urgently nudged the queen awake.

Vixensong's sharp yellow eyes fluttered open, stuttering like the gentle wings of a butterfly. "What's going on, Cragkit?" She mumbled.

"Strikefeather said to get everybody out of the den," he proclaimed, sticking his tail out and puffing his chest. "I think Sedgeflight's kits are coming."

Vixensong stretched to her paws and nudged her three kits awake, who protested softly. "You three, go outside with Cragkit," she purred. "Sedgeflight's kits are coming, and she's going to need my help. Don't get into any trouble," she looked pointedly at Cragkit when she said this.

Heat rushed to his ears. "I won't," he vowed, fluffing out his fur fiercely. "Come on, guys!"

Cragkit quickly urged his friends to their paws, then he turned to Nightkit, who had slipped straight back to sleep even through the ambience of wails and rain. He prodded his reluctant brother awake.

Thunder crashed through the air, drowning out Sedgeflight's agony. With an audible protest, the five kits scrambled out of the den. Cragkit found himself face-to-face with Stumpwhisker, whose thick fur was drenched with rainwater and his head ducked low to protect the precious herbs from the downpour.

Twitching his whiskers, Cragkit scampered to the side, and the medicine cat dove into the nursery. The little tom exchanged glances with his denmates, who were now as soaked as he was.

"Hurry! The elder's den is over here," he cried, shaking out his fur and beginning the agonizing trek.

The kits all blinked at him blearily, but they offered little complaint as they hurried across the rain-soaked clearing. There were so many puddles that their paws constantly splashed, and Cragkit was drenched in muddy water up to his belly fur.

The camp lit up with a blinding flash of purplish-blue lightning. An instant passed before the deafening eruption of thunder joined the harsh light.

With squeaks of alarm, the five kits quickened their pace. In one final bound, Cragkit launched himself into the hollow trunk of the elder's den. Darkness swallowed him, and the tumultuous downpour eased to the hollow pattering on the bark of the cavernous trunk. The other kits hurried in behind him, shivering and cold. Cragkit noticed, after just a few moments, that he was shivering as well.

Beady yellow eyes blinked at the collection of kits.

"What're you lot doing here so late?" A voice rasped. Rattail crept out from the shadows.

Cragkit stared at the old she-cat. Her brown mottled fur was sprinkled with aged silver hairs, and her pelt hung loosely from her skin. The little holes where ears should be always frightened him, and her long, hairless tail—burnt off in a raging fire—was equally as unsettling. As per her namesake, it supposedly looked like a rat's tail.

"Mother said Sedgeflight is having kits," Hollykit mewed brightly.

"Kits?" Rattail rumbled, her eyes gleaming with soft joy. "Oh, isn't that delightful."

Thunder boomed, resonating in her words. Fleckkit squeaked wordlessly and tucked his tail close, crouching low.

Rattail's eyes glittered. "Come," she mewed, ducking further into the den. "Let me tell you where thunder comes from."

Cragkit exchanged glances with Nightkit.

"A story!" His brother exclaimed.

The kits all followed the elder deeper within the hollow log.

"Now, gather close," Rattail hissed, curling into her nest. The kits scrambled onto the moss, and Cragkit hesitated as he stepped over her bare tail. As he settled into the soft greenery, he found himself immediately enraptured by her raspy, intricate tone. His amber eyes widened. The fear that overwhelmed him only a moment ago was swept away by the next clap of thunder. "Long ago, before our Clans became what they are now..."

"Even ThunderClan?" Cardinalkit squeaked.

"Hush," Rattail chided. "But yes, even ThunderClan."

"ThunderClan hasn't always been here?" Hollykit chimed in, her voice tight with confusion.

"No, ThunderClan hasn't always been here."

As Hollykit opened her mouth again, Nightkit huffed and shoved her with his shoulders. "Shut up already and let her finish."

"Be kind to each other," Rattail softly scolded, her tail softly batting Nightkit over the ears. The tom shrank down with a scowl. She continued, "Before the Clans as we know them roamed the forest, four great Clans roamed these lands—cats taller than trees with the fiercest of roars. ThunderClan originated from the Clan of Lions, a group filled to the brim with the most loyal of cats, embroidered at the necks with thick, golden manes."

"I've heard of lions!" Hollykit chirped. "Mother told me about them when I was two moons old. She said... she said they're the fiercest cats known to the Clans!" She glanced around, then gasped. "Didn't RiverClan come from tigers?"

"That they did," Rattail purred, leaning forward to give the she-kit a warm rasp between the ears. "All of the ancient Clans are long gone, yet their key traits can be seen in the Clans we know today."

Hollykit thrummed happily and squirmed closer to Rattail, settling her chin on the elder's forepaw.

"When storms shake the sky," Rattail resumed, her golden eyes glittering with something akin to wonder, "LionClan is fighting with the other Clans. The flash of lightning is the swipe of their claws," as she said this, a blinding glow darted across the den's walls, "and the crash of thunder is the defeat of an enemy." A shuddering rumble shook through the air.

"What are they fighting over?" Cragkit inquired.

"Perhaps territory," Rattail mewed thoughtfully. "Though, it could also just be a training session. There's no way for us to know, not unless we join them among the clouds."

"If LionClan lives above us," Nighttkit began hesitantly, "then... where is StarClan?"

"LionClan lives among the clouds," Rattail explained. "StarClan lives far above them, among the stars."

"Woah," Cragkit breathed.

A soft purr rose to Rattail's chest as she looked at the cluster of kits. "That's enough storytelling for now, kits. You'd best get some sleep while you wait for your mothers. There's no telling how long Sedgeflight will be kitting for."

Cragkit bobbed his head in agreement, only now realizing just how heavily his tiredness weighed down on him. Rattail shuffled to the side, leaving room for the five kits to curl up beside her.

Cragkit blinked as he realized that her nest was actually big enough for all of them to fit. He picked his paws over the rim of moss and stepped inside, curling up against her flank and draping his tail over his nose.

"Why is your nest so big?" Cardinalkit mewed as he nestled inside.

Rattail smiled softly. "I used to share it with my mate. Rest now," she nuzzled each kit in turn. "I'll watch over you."

Cragkit snuggled close to his denmates. As Rattail's warm yellow eyes lingered over them, the young tom's eyes slid shut.

His dreams were swept away by thoughts of maned lions in a fierce battle with similarly massive cats, the ferocious beasts rolling around in the flickering thunderheads above.

Well into the night, when the thunder had ended and the pouring rain had eased into a soft drizzle, Strikefeather entered the den to fetch Cragkit and Nightkit. Rattail bode the kits and their mother farewell as they padded, weary-pawed, out into the wet clearing.

Cragkit's paws trembled with exhaustion as Strikefeather led him and his brother quietly back into the nursery. His amber eyes flashed towards Sedgeflight, whose flank rose and fell steadily around three adorable bundles of fluff.

"May I?" He asked sleepily, casting his tired eyes to his mother.

"You may," Strikefeather encouraged, giving the drained kit a gentle nudge.

Cragkit blinked his heavy eyes and curiously approached Sedgeflight's nest. He peered down at the crook of her stomach where three bundles of fur suckled happily. A little ginger and white she-kit pawed at her sister's white ears, and the last one, a sandy-furred she-kit, nestled close to her mother's belly.

"Wow," Cragkit breathed. "Was I this small once?"

Sedgeflight let out a soft mrrow of amusement. "Yes, you were. All of us were so little, at some point in time."

"Have you named them?"

"Not yet," Sedgeflight bumped her ginger kit with her nose, guiding the tiny she-cat to her belly. "I'll be naming them with Oakstrike in the morning."

"Is he your mate?" Nightkit propped his paws on Cragkit's back, craning his neck curiously as he peered into the nest.

Cragkit jolted, but didn't budge for fear of disturbing the three newborns.

"Yes, he's my mate. He had a long day yesterday, so I told Vixensong not to fetch him." Her eyes gleamed in amusement as a soft purr trembled in her lungs. "She wasn't too pleased."

The queen sighed happily and lowered her head to the soft cushion of moss, her yellow-green eyes drooping with exhaustion. Cragkit and Nightkit exchanged glances. Nightkit relinquished his hold on Cragkit's back, and the two quietly wished Sedgeflight a good night. The kits padded over to their mother, who gave them each a gentle lick between the ears.

"What did you think?" Strikefeather queried, curling up around the toms as they nestled at her belly.

Nightkit blinked happily. "It was a miracle," He purred.

Cragkit nodded eagerly. "Did Stumpwhisker really help her give birth?"

"Yes, he did," Strikefeather smiled at the two. "Medicine cats know, better than even all the queens in this Clan, how to help a mother through birth. He has special herbs and tactics to make the experience easier."

"Wow," Cragkit breathed, burying his nose into Strikefeather's fluffy belly fur. The soft, sweet smell of milk sprang to his tongue, mixed with the taste of heather.

"Settle down now," Strikefeather purred, drawing her tongue across Cragkit's fur, lapping away at the mud that clung to it. "It's time for you to sleep."

As Cragkit relaxed under his mother's gentle grooming, his thoughts meandered over the events of the night. Stumpwhisker was a cat to behold. Wise, methodical, and so, so very helpful to the Clan. If medicine cats could make miracles, Cragkit wanted to make miracles, too. He knew, with every fiber of his being, that his destiny was to become ThunderClan's next medicine cat.

With a purr thrumming in his throat, Cragkit fell into a deep slumber.