Three cats huddled together by a rippling flame. "D-Dawnpelt? Which one will it be?" A young looking she-cat asked, shivering in the cold. They stared down at the fire, it displayed an image of two kittens, one male and one female.
"Maybe they're destined to be mates." Another she-cat meowed slowly, as if she were trying to understand her own words.
"I think they're siblings, Frostleaf." Dawnpelt, a dark gray she-cat, replied hastingly. Frostleaf locked gazes with Dawnpelt, her eyes searching for some type of doubt, but nothing but determination showed.
"Well, Dawnpelt, if you're so sure, why don't you just walk in their dreams too? Like always." Frostleaf had never been fond of the old and snappy she-cat, even if she was her grandmother. Dawnpelt began to look uneasy.
"I-I can't." She simply replied, acting as if she were trying to hide something.
"Dawnpelt, whats wrong?" Winterstar, a white she-cat, asked quietly, for she was never an outspoken cat.
"Dawnpelt's just scared because-"
"Enough!" A gruff male voice boomed out like thunder. "Dawnpelt, what is disturbing you?"
"Scarface, those kits, they aren't born yet." TBC