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A Journey Joined is a fanfic by Goldenpaw and Wollow/Willowpaw. There are two separate stories, but they join in the end. It has a lame title. Blame Wollow. And Goldie. And it's an RP fanfic. Lame, right. Haha it was Wollow's idea. Wollow is writing this. She's bored and it's way early. Whatever. Bye. also its probably never continuing

Prologue Edit

Hey, Wollow here.  How this is going to work is that we each write chapters until the story connects, and then maybe write another chapter or two after that :D 

Cloud’s yowls echoed through the forest endlessly, but in the end, she knew it would all be worth it. In the end, she’d have beautiful kits to love and raise. Names! What should she name the kits? Oh, if only Dusk was here. He had gone hunting, knowing she would be too busy with the kits to get out and hunt. What if a fox went by and saw her as easy prey? What if something went wrong? All the worries pulsed through Cloud’s head.

“It’ll be fine,” Dusk said, padding into her den. “Kitting is the most natural thing in the world.” He dropped a mouse at Cloud’s paws. She pushed it away. “I’m not hungry,” she muttered. “You need to eat, for the kits,” Dusk insisted. Cloud sighed, and devoured the mouse. “I’ll get more.” Dusk padded out of the den, his tabby tail waving behind him.


“Four beautiful kits!” Dusk yowled, coming back with a few mice in his jaws. He set the mice down, looking at Cloud happily. “What should we name them?” she asked, wincing. “They’re your kits!” “How about Dawn for this one, the only she-kit?” she meowed, pointing with her nose to a brown tabby kit. “Great! Maybe Ripple for this one, because his fur looks like ripples in a lake,” Dusk meowed, pointing to a grey tabby tom. “Maybe Lake for the solid grey one?” “Sure! What about this last kit?” Dusk flicked his tail.

“What about Creek?”

Robin’s moans of pain could be heard from outside the nursery. “Sky, why did you have to leave me?” She groaned. She missed her mate dearly. Why had he had to go off and die? A spasm hit her and a kit lay on soft moss, still.

“I’m so sorry, she’s dead.” A healer meowed softly. Robin was oblivious to her voice. The world seemed to be fuzzy and grief overwhelmed her. “No..” “There’s still two more to go,” The healer told her, “You have to keep going.”

Robin moaned again and a kit slid out onto the soft moss. It wriggled around, looking for it’s mother. Robin licked it’s small head. She shrieked in pain as another spasm overtook her and and the last kit slid out onto the moss. She sighed in relief, falling back into her nest.

“Congratulations.” The healer purred. “What are you going to name them?”

“ This one,” she nosed the very pale grey, almost white tom, “is Mist, after his misty fur.” Mist squeaked and suckled.

“Are.. Are you going to name her..” The healer asked softly, gazing at the stillborn kit.

Robin’s eyes flooded with grief but she nodded. “This is kit will be Birdsong after the birds that are chirping.”

Robin looked at her last kit. “And this one,” she nosed the small dark brown she-kit with gingerish golden streaks, “is Golden, after her golden streaks.”

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