[Dark]

Fishfreckle

Go With the Flow | Silver Tongue (T1) [Perm] | Mind Reader [Perm]
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The last moon or so had been stressful for the small-framed tom. He was worried about Larkwing. Her injuries coupled with her pregnancy filled him with so much anxiety. What if something were to happen to the kits? What if something went wrong? He knew that sometimes queens died while kitting, so what would he do if he lost the former leader? There was so much constantly running through his mind and it was hard to keep the level head that he was known for.

The kits were due any day now, and that did little to relieve his stress. Honestly, it made it worse. He had promised her they would figure it out together, he had convinced himself that all would be okay, but what if it wasn’t? What if—

The sound of a strained voice interrupted his pacing in the clearing. It was the familiar voice of his— err of Larkwing. Stopping in his tracks, he stood rigidly. Was it already time? Should he go get someone? Oh dear, he didn’t know what to do. As much as he tried, he wasn’t quite prepared for this moment, mentally, emotionally, nor physically. Honestly, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to be there just in case something happened to her or one of them, he didn’t want to see it. He didn’t want to bear witness to the loss of someone else he loved. Despite that, however, he knew he had to go. He had to be there for her, for them. They weren’t just Larkwing’s kits, they were their kits, and he held a responsibility to be there for them.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to walk to the entrance of the den. His heart was pounding so loud that it drowned out all other noise. When had he last felt this way? When was the last time that his anxiety had taken over in such a manner? He couldn’t remember. All he could focus on at the moment was getting to Larkwing — he had to be sure that she was okay, he had to be there for her.

Paws sweaty, and paw steps heavy, Fishfreckle finally made his way into the den. He wanted to speak, but seeing the queen working so hard, no words were able to come out. Instead, he was there gaping like his namesake (a fish) out of water. It was a messy ordeal, a part of life, true, but messy nonetheless. He’d always thought queens to be strong, and he always knew that Larkwing held some kind of grit in her that many others didn’t. But this? Watching this unfold, led to him holding a newfound respect to both of them. He didn’t know how they did it. Bringing new life into the world seemed… horrific. It looked painful, it looked messy, it seemed exhausting, but it happened all the time as if it were nothing. Had it been this way when he and his siblings were born? Did he also come into the world as a squealing, mewling, little lump of cat?

Well, that was something to ponder later. Right now, there were more important things to worry about. It seemed that it was all over. Larkwing, was looking at him, beckoning him closer and to meet their kits. Though she was exhausted, seeing her made his heart skip a beat. She was as gorgeous as always, and seeing the gentle care she had for their young and how she smiled warmly at him filled him with an indescribable warm and fuzzy feeling.

He nodded, still unable to find words, but at least his mouth was closed now. Hesitantly he stepped closer, making his way until he stood right in front of them. ”They're so small.” He whispered at long last, looking down at the tiny forms next to the queen. It was an obvious thing, but that was what first came to mind. These were his daughters. Three little bundles of fur, a tortoiseshell, a calico, and one who was all white. They seemed so fragile, as if they’d fall apart at the slightest of touches.

His gaze softened, and he was unable to stop the slight smile that formed at his lips. They were perfect. Just like they’re mother, they were perfect, and wonderful, and the loves of his life. ”They're here.” He said in slight disbelief. Though he watched it all from beginning to end, and was now standing right in front of them, it was as if it hadn’t fully registered. He was a father now. They were parents.

A small purr built up at the back of his throat. ”Our babies,” Fishfreckle cooed softly. He hadn’t yet looked back at Larkwing as he was too enamored by the wriggling masses at her stomach. Unable to hold back, he craned his neck and sniffed one, before poking them with his nose. He then did it with the other two. They were so… little and small and—

”Larkwing, they’re beautiful,” The tabby tom purred with a smile, finally looking at the mother of his kits ”I’m so proud of you.”

[ @Neptune. @Rowan @Star @Weekend-Wondering ]