Four cats, one destiney.

It was a cool leaf-fall, the crisp golden, red, and violet leaves floating slowly towards the bare earth. A silver she-cat lay in a cave, her pelt pressed against the cold stone. She panted with the effort of birthing four kits. Four lovely, mewling kits. Breeze, Rock, Ocean, and Flame. Breeze was a small, lithe, white and gray she-cat with pale blue eyes. Rock was a dark, almost black, gray tom with hard blue eyes. Ocean was a musuclar gray she-cat with ocean blue eyes. And Flame, oh flame. He was a lovely ginger tom with flaming green eyes. The she-cat sighed, her eyes shutting softly. A few minutes later and Silver's life slipped away. The kits mewled pitifully. The smell of warm milk had begun to fade and they were blind, helpless, and in danger.

[They can't talk! Their a minute old!]

Breeze was the complete oppisite of Ocean. She was lithe, small, and light. The kit stumbled, trying to mewl for milk.

The wind shifted and blew leaves into the kit's face. She leapt back, with tiny legs, but opened her eyes with a small hiccup. What was going on, she thought, looking at her siblings who, too, were opening their eyes.

Breeze looked behind her and the wind picked up, her throat erupting two words,"Who you?"

Breeze tilted her small head slightly and looked at her sister. She narrowed her eyes and blinked. "You-you Ocean. I Bweeze. No, Breeze!" She meowed, looking at the sky and back down. She shuddered.