Dovewing seemed almost overwhelmed at first, trying to answer every question at once, until Ivypool’s kits came wriggling their way through the crowd, sniffing inquisitively at the newcomers.

“Are these yours, Ivypool?” Dovewing asked. “What lovely kits!”

“Yes, they’re mine and Fernsong’s,” Ivypool replied proudly. “This is Bristlekit, this is Thriftkit, and this is Flipkit.”

“They’re kind of small,” Lightkit remarked, stepping up warily to touch noses with Bristlekit. “Not like us!”

“They’re only a few days old,” Ivypool explained. “Their eyes only opened this morning.”

“They’re beautiful!” Dovewing introduced her own kits, explaining to them, “These kits are your kin. Their mother is my sister, Ivypool—you remember I told you about her.”

The two sets of kits examined each other with wide-open eyes. “It’s great to have kin,” Pouncekit mewed with a purr of satisfaction.

Bumblestripe, who had been Dovewing’s mate for a brief time, padded up and dipped his head stiffly to her. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he told her.

Alderheart could tell that he really meant it, but at the same time he recognized the hurt in Bumblestripe’s voice. It can’t be easy, knowing she chose to be with a cat from another Clan.

“And there’s more to tell you,” Alderheart meowed. “Tigerstar is alive.”

His news caused barely a ripple among the Clan; they were all too focused on Dovewing’s unexpected return.

“Yes, these are Tigerstar’s kits,” Dovewing added. “He’s my mate now. I had to leave, because I was afraid I wouldn’t be welcome here anymore, carrying kits with a father in ShadowClan.”

For a moment there was an awkward pause, the ThunderClan cats exchanging doubtful glances. Alderheart supposed it was asking a bit much for them to be thrilled with the news that Tigerstar was the father of Dovewing’s kits.

“Well, a lot of things have changed between the Clans,” Squirrelflight declared at last. “Anyway, Dovewing, we’re just happy that you’re back.”

“And there was another reason I left,” Dovewing went on. “I was having terrible dreams where our nursery was destroyed and my kits died.”

A murmur of sympathy rose from the surrounding cats.

“I wish you’d let me know,” Daisy mewed, stroking Dovewing’s shoulder with her tail-tip. “I could have told you that all she-cats have weird dreams when they’re expecting kits.”

Dovewing flicked her tail, looking irritated. “I did what I thought was best.”