□□□□□□□□□□

The harsh snapping of fire reverberated in Hazefoot's ears, and the acrid taste of burning forest made fear coil deep inside of him.

His home burned around him, fire and ash twisting into the air, embers drifting down to earth like painful raindrops.

He couldn't believe his eyes.

The sound of splashing water drew near, and as the grey tom turned, he saw Yarrowtuft racing closer, singed fur growing dark from the water of the stream. The medicine cat stumbled to a halt just beside Hazefoot, and the grey warrior ducked to support the pale tabby.

A charred herb drifted from white jaws, as Yarrowtuft leaned against Hazefoot, coughing against the sting of smoke. "Your mate," he choked out. "She's... she's having he-" he broke off, curling into himself as he hacked, the severity of it making the pale tabby tremble. "She's having her kits."

Panic flared in Hazefoot, stopping his heart for a painful moment. Not Leafgaze! Not now, when the situation was so dire, when there was no truly safe place to shelter!

His gaze skidded back to the crouching medicine cat, lapping up the ashen water of the creek as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. The smoking herbs he had dared the flames for spun downstream, forgotten and forlorn.

"Where is she!"

Hazefoot couldn't help the panic and anger in his voice, couldn't help the weight ceiling in his stomach, the fear skittering down his spine. "Where is my mate?!"

Yarrowtuft looked back up, eyes full of distrust. "Down the creek, in RootClan. They took her in, so she could have her kits in peace." He spat slightly at the last word, nose wrinkling. "As if anyone could have peace in a clan of pushovers."

But Hazefoot wasn't there to hear him, wasn't there to see the wall of fire stretch onward, wasn't there to hear the frantic yowls of Yarrowtuft as the medicine cat fled.

He was in a place far away, with rustling trees and dappling light, in a fiction where danger didn't exist, and his kits could grow up safe.

The fantasy didn't break until he saw his mate, saw the relieved smile on her face, saw the two, small kits tucked into her fur.

He dropped down, panting, gasping, the wonder of everything crashing down. "They're perfect," he gasped, inching closer.

Leafgaze gave him a tired smile, one of joy, of fear, of uncertainty, all bubbling under the surface. "They are beautiful," she replied, touching her tail to his shoulders. "What should we name them?"

Hazefoot let out a gentle purr, the thrum of it filling his body with warmth. He touched his nose to the small russet one, chuckling as she mewled at his touch. "Charkit."

He felt the light touch of Leafgaze's tail again as he bent to the dark grey one. "And Ashkit."

Leafgaze nodded, satisfied with the names. "They're wonderful." She curled closer to her kits, no, their kits.

"And one day, they will lead."

□□□□□□□□□□

Welcome to When Ashes Arise! I hope you enjoy this book, and find it very interesting and page turning! (Or screen scrolling!)

I know the story of Ashkit has actually been an idea I've had for a while, so I am very happy to finally share it with all of you.

Enjoy!

//word count: 500//