The old tom opened his milky eyes, only to realize he could see.

"Sight? This isn't right..." He thought out loud, looking at his new environment.

The thickly laced oak trees, standing mixed with others reminded him of Shrieking Eagle's Description of MapleClan territory. He glanced around, slight fear in his bristling pelt.

"There's no need to be afraid, love." A familiar voice sounded from behind him, and the cream tom turned around calmly.

Recognition flew through his milky eyes, and he bounded over, knowing the she-cat in front of him by sight.

Her silvery-grey pelt sparkled beautifully in the sunset, her kind Hazel eyes loving.

"Shrieking Eagle, is it really you?" He purred, stopping right in front of his deceased mate.

"It is, my love. I have come to give you a message." She mewed, her brownish green eyes suddenly growing serious. "Go, be with her."

"Henna?"

"Yes. She is the key to your fate. You might not love her, but raise her family. Create new generations."

"Why, Shrieking Eagle? I don't want her kits, I want ours!" The old tom complained, wanting the feeling of his two kits back at his side.

"They are here, and they agreed to come see you, they will arrive soon." She mewed, purring.

As if on cue, two cats, a tom and a she-cat, pushed through the brush, their nearly identical pelts blending with each other. Their distinct smells have them apart, though their cream and silver tabby pelts were nearly the same.

"Crouching Bush, Leaping Bear, you've arrived!" The cream tom purred, running to his two beautiful kits. "I love you."

"We love you, too, father. But we're dead. Move on from us." Crouching Bush, his daughter, mewed. "Go, have new kits. Give them life. Take back your life."

"Do it, father. For us." His son, Leaping Bear, mewed happily. "Please. The fate of the Clans depends on you. We love you, but you must continue. Please."

The cream tom nodded reluctantly.

"I will speak to Henna. But that does not mean I will ever love her. We will have kits, to restart the Clans, that it all." He growled, his stubborn personality showing.

"Yes, start the Clans. Keep their memories in your kits." Shrieking Eagle encourages. "But learn to move on from the past. You'll be fine."

The old tom nodded, but internally promised himself that he would never love Henna for as long as he lived. He only had one true love, and even if she was deceased, she was his.

"I love you. I'm waking up now, goodbye, my love, my kits. I'll miss you." He mewed, giving them one last goodbye.

--

His milky eyes snapped open, this time to darkness. He could hear the distant meow of Henna, and the reply of someone else.

Suddenly, Leaping Willow snapped up, his ears pricked. Yes, there was the gruff mew of a tom, and the slightly higher voice of a she-cat.

'Two cats?' He thought, padding into the pine clearing.

"Henna?" He mewed, scenting the newcomers.

The light brown tabby she-cat turned her head, matching her gaze to the blind tom's.

"Morning, Leaping Willow. We have some guests." She purred, turning to the two loners. "This is Thistle, and this is Gemma. Oh! Sorry! The tom is Thistle, and the she-cat is Gemma."

The cream tom merely chuckled, and followed the two cat's scents, standing in front of them.

"Greetings, I am-"

"Leaping Willow, we got it." Gemma snapped, quite rudely. "Henna told us."

"Oh. Thanks." He growled, annoyed at the she-cat.

"Excuse Gemma, we've been traveling." Thistle mewed, his voice smooth and friendly.

"Don't excuse me for anything, Thistle." She snapped, her voice somewhat moving this time.

"Are you two mates?" He asked, pointing his tail to the two newcomers.

"Yes." Thistle purred. "She's my Thorn."

"So I see..." The old tom news, confusion on his mind. "How are you two doing?"

"Not good. But we're getting better." He purred. "Gemma is expecting kits! Are you and Henna... Mates?"

"Oh, Holy Ancestors, no!" Leaping Willow exclaimed. "We've only just met. And also, congratulations."

Henna padded over, whispering into Leaping Willow's ear.

"Have you thought about our deal?" She whispered.

"Yes, mouse brain, come out here." He whispered back, padding out. He heard a quick "excuse us," from Henna, before the light brown tabby joined him.

"So?" She mewed.

"I've decided I'll go with it. I'll have kits with you." He growled stubbornly.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Henna purred. "I'm going to be a mother!"

"Don't get too excited." Leaping Willow growled.

"I won't." She mewed, obviously overjoyed.

"Let's go back, then." He growled, padding back into the clearing.

As the two cats padded back in, they could detect the low murmurs of the excited couple.

"Oh, hi!" Thistle mewed happily. "How are you two doing? Better?"

"We made a decision." The cream tom mewed gruffly, obviously not sounding to excited.

"Well, since there are only four cats on the planet, we're going to have kits so we can start the race of cats again!" Henna purred, happiness in her voice.

"Oh, congrats!" Thistle purred, and a grunt could be heard from Gemma.

"Exciting." She mewed, obviously not caring at all.

"I know, right?" She purred. "It's amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

Suddenly, by his scent, and the noise, Pouncing Willow could tell Thistle had stood up.

"Shouldn't we hunt?" The tom purred. "I can go with Pouncing Willow, and you and Henna can go together. How about that?"

"Sure!" Henna agreed heartily.

"Well, let's go, then." Thistle replied. "Can I just call you Willow?"

"Sure, whatever..." The old cream tom replied. "And tell me something, what do you look like?"

"Well, I'm a white cat, and I have dark grey patches covering my body." He replied.

"And your eyes? And how about your mate?"

"They're yellow. And Gemma is a blue-grey cat, and she has blue eyes. And I'm assuming you want to know what Henna looks like?"

"Yes, please."

"Well, she's a brown tabby, and she has pale green eyes."

"Thanks, Thistle." 'Willow' grunted.

"No problem, Willow."

"Now, let's hunt." Leaping Willow replied.

"Alright."

--

As the two toms returned to their "camp," several pieces of prey hanging from Thistle's jaws, his yellow eyes high and proud.

Behind him stood Willow, obviously upset. He had only one small mouse, and it was a pitiful catch.

He remembered the moment, scenting the mouse, and creeping up on its approximate place. He had pounced, his paws landing on nothing. Just fallen leaves left to rot. He had heard a scuffling sound in the dirt, so he took a chance, and had dropped his paw down, crushing the rodent's spine.

The catch had succeeded, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

He placed his mouse down, setting it on top the mouse that Thistle had dropped. He sat up, and gently began to groom his fur, it was rumpled from the strong breeze. As his tongue gently pushed down his frayed pelt, the welcoming mew of Thistle came from the entrance.

"Hey, Thistle." Henna greeted, her voice slightly muffled. As the brown tabby she-cat padded towards Willow, he could hear the strong scent of rabbit.

"Nice catch." He grumbled, still angry at his small mouse.

"Thanks!" She purred, touching her nose to his ear.

"Yep." He grunted.

"Anyway, I have a spot. Let's eat, and then we can go.

"Fine." The cream tom growled, grabbing his mouse, gulping it down in a few bites.

He scented Henna gently picking at a squirrel Thistle had caught, and heard her burying the bones. As the she-cat stood up, gently running her tail along the blind tom's side, they padded out of the clearing. Henna lead them to a small hill, and they climbed over. He felt the beautiful green grass beneath his feet, and the smell of honeysuckle came somewhere from the right.

"So this is it." He mewed.

"Yep. I'm going to become a mother." Henna purred.

"Alright."

They mated, and padded back to camp, both of them slightly awkward.

"Well, I guess we'll have kits, then." The green eyed she-cat mewed, her pawsteps sounding loudly on the dirt covered forest.

"Yep. We will."