"Look at the size of those paws! What a warrior he'll make." The kit's father, a big rusty-brown cat, purred.
"I'm looking at his eyes," the mother said. "I've never heard of a cat with gray eyes."
The little one, who had been named Sevenkit, stirred in his nest.
His stare took in every detail. He made no sound, but those eyes promised... something.
**
Sevenpaw surveyed the camp. In the past six moons he'd grown form a bumbling kit to a competent apprentice. His legs and chest had filled with lean muscle; he stood head and shoulders over his denmates.
"Hi, brother." Silverpaw came to her feet as she caught sight of him. "Horseleg and I saved you a vole."
Sevenpaw dipped his head in thanks. That was one thing about being so big, he thought: he was always hungry.
His sister let out a mrrow of laughter. "Actually, it was Pebblepaw who caught it. He's turning into a fine hunter."
"And you've become a fine fool over him," he teased.
"Mind your own business, nosy!"
StarClan, what is with her? "It was only a joke, Silver. I know you..."
His voice trailed away. She wasn't listening. "She-cats," he muttered.
