my world blooms around you || p

[Neptune.]

Larkwing
~<>~
29 moons || she/her || RC Queen || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Killer Aptitude T2
scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes

[cw: non-graphic birth]

Pain is not something Larkwing is unfamiliar with. It has been her constant friend for as long as she can remember and as far forward as she can imagine - there will never be a day she does not feel pain. So, at first, the quick shock of pain in her abdomen is one she ignores, one she doesn't think is important. And then it comes again, and once more it goes ignored. The third time, however, Larkwing cannot simply ignore it, cannot push it to the back of her mind to deal with later as she does everything else.

There are a number of things constant abdomen pain could be - perhaps she just has a tummy ache? But, no, this was not a tummy ache... except in the fact that it sort of was. She's not sure how she knows - if it's the intense pain lancing through her body every few minutes, or some instinct deep down that every mother possesses - but she knows tonight her kits would be coming.

In that knowledge there lingers a metallic taste of fear, strong and tumultuous and fueled by furious love. Love for little beings she has yet to meet but has kept right by her side for moons, love that she does not know what to do with, and her brain begins to work on auto pilot - she thinks she might have called for Fishfreckle, she thinks one of the queens might have gone of to get him, but she has a task to do as she tries to make herself as comfortable as possible in her nest, tries to fashion the coziest of entrances into a cold world. She will keep them warm. She will keep them safe.

The ordeal is not one she remembers much of, mind addled with pain and making sure everyone is alive and... oh, they're so tiny... have you ever seen any cat as small? Sandpaper rough tongue rasps over each of them, three little lumps, making sure they are moving, making sure they are warm, and making sure they can find their way to food.

One, a molly grey fur with flecks of red, folded over ears adorable as she squirms and wiggles around. Larkwing gives her an affectionate lick on the rump, nudging her closer. Two, another girl carrying Larkwing's colors... just broken up by much more white. Emerald gaze cannot help but squint fondly at the eyes squeezed shut, blind to the world for now, and she offers this one a long lick on her forehead. And, third, another girl, her fur pearlescent white, not a speck of red or grey to be seen. A little blip of snow among grey pelts. Larkwing nuzzles her close, purring loud as she looks over the three. Hers. And Fishfreckle's.

...Speaking of the father, was he here now and she just... failed to realize? Blinking up into the nursery's darkness, her tail coming to rest around her three kits, the queen searches for the object of her affections and, should she find him there, she will smile fondly, tiredly, and beckon him closer with a twitch of her whiskers.

"Hi, you," she would greet, exhaustion in her voice as she does so, "come here and say hello."

[ goooodd morning !! welcome to the world <33 birth order is whatever, y'all can duke it out among yourselves lmao. No pressure to get a response up quick !! It's a holiday, enjoy the time with family if you celebrate !! ]
[ @Dark - fish || @Rowan - unnamed (fern) || @Weekend-Wondering - unnamed (hound) || @Star - unnamed (faith) ]

[Rowan]

FERNKIT
Posts: 1 | Female | 0 Moons
Purrks: None
___________________________________________

There was some sudden, yucky, drastic change in temperature. She was previously warm. Now it was freezing and wet and bleh. She felt little bodies squirm around her and- oh! A larger source of heat. She crawled her way next to…whatever it was and a warm, welcoming feeling embraced her. Despite the cold it…wasn’t too horrible. She got close to…what she believed was her mother’s belly and drank, small little purrs escaping her in the progress.



@Neptune @Dark @Weekend-Wondering @Star

[Star]

╔══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╗
Faithkit
Fluffy albino she-cat with pale eyes
She/Her | 0 Moons | RiverClan Kit | The Gentle Hoper
. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.
It was cold, and so, so unfamiliar. But in a heartbeat, she was drawn close to a source of warmth and protection. Pure bliss. The kit let out a soft squeak and nuzzled closer, a soft purr rumbling from her throat. It was so nice. She felt safe. Very, very safe. She could not possibly ask for any more.

{ @Neptune. - Larkmum | @Dark - Fishdad | @Rowan - Fernkit | @Weekend-Wondering - Houndkit }
╚══ ≪ °❈° ≫ ══╝

[Dark]

Fishfreckle

Go With the Flow | Silver Tongue (T1) [Perm] | Mind Reader [Perm]
___________

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 ]

[Weekend-Wondering]

Houndkit
(No Header Yet)/ Female / 0 Moons / RiverClan / Orientation Unknown
Sleek and short-haired dilute calico she-kit with cream and pale grey streaks and patches running through her pelt. She is a small cat, with larger ears and a long, feathery tail, and tufts that puff up around her ears and face. Her eyes are narrow and pale green.

“TBD”
~ Houndkit, 1/100

✽❀✽

[ Correct me if I am wrong, but it seems Houndkit has been born last of the litter? ]

The small she-kit felt a burst of freezing air shoot through her pelt, and immediately, she curled up into as tight of a ball as she possibly could. Good riddance, what was going on, and why had any and all comfort suddenly zipped out from her grasp? Her tiny paws, pressed tightly against her chest, did not provide anywhere near the amount of warmth that the young kitten had hoped and expected them to, and despite her attempts to warm herself up again, she remained a sad lump of ice, shivering as streaks of chilly air tore through her fur, tearing at her skin and leaving stinging tracks as they crept down to her bones, down to her core. With a small thump, her head gently touched the ground on its side, slightly too large and heavy for her poop shoulders and neck to support, resting against solid ground. Breaths drifted into her lungs cold and painful, burning down through her throat every time she inhaled her first handful of breaths, and as she lay there silent and rigid for a moment, she shivered in her skin, trembling like mad. Finally, after a few long, dreadful moments of pure, undeniable sting and forced strength, the struggling she-kit felt her body begin to adjust to the dramatic change in temperature, and a long stream of breath left her nose, her eyes loosening as she found peace in the adjustment. The chill faded into something… a little less painful- still very uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but… less. Then finally, she lifted her head again.

It was time to begin her search for some warmth, something she could curl up against, rest her head against, and drift off into a deep sleep beside. Her mother. Blindly and weakly, the she-kit dragged herself about a centimeter ahead of where she had last been, tiny, barely visible claws griping the moss ahead of her as she moved along. After this successful attempt to get one step closer to her goal, the unnamed she-kitten moved again, scooting along until her nose caught the strong, lovely scent of Larkwing and what her mother had to offer; From her warmth, to her milk, to her love and care for her new daughters. Step by step- well, scoot by scoot, technically- the kitten moved forward, until suddenly, the strength temporarily left her behind. Her ears flattened, her chin bumped the ground, and her whiskers twitched. Her eyes shut tighter again, and when her blood flow quit flowing like magic through her body, the she-kit felt the chilly air reach her again, gripping ther pelt and pulling at her skin, a terrible, terrible cold. She prepared to create her first sound, to meow something awesome and lion-like, opening her maw as widely as she could. But when she tried to roar, something even more painful than the cold air entering her lungs ripped through her throat, through her vocal cords. Her throat burned and stung, and the only sound she had the ability to make was a tiny, barely audible squeak, something pitifully miserable and quiet to the ears of nearly any listeners. It was obvious that making noises was not the kitten’s speciality, so stiffly, she returned to trying to move forward, using every last ounce of her strength to locate her mother. And finally, after the horribly hard work it took to move those four inches, the newborn tried to snugfle her way selfishly in between her sisters, allowing her bold pelt to absorb the warmth of her siblings and her mother. She found Larkwing, and finally, she relaxed, her expression loosening completely when she pelt her mother’s tongue draw across her forehead. Now, and only now, was she warm.

✽❀✽
~ @Neptune. { Larkwing } ~
~ @Dark { Fishfreckle } ~
~ @Rowan { Fernkit } ~
~ @Star { Faithkit } ~

[Neptune.]

Larkwing
~<>~
29 moons || she/her || RC Queen || Kitty Softpaws, Mind Reader, Killer Aptitude T2
scarred, scrawny dilute tortoiseshell; green eyes

There is a softness in the quiet, a gentleness in the chilly night as her world expands, just a little. And, just a little, tense shoulders loosen for the first time in moons, and a relaxed smile graces her face. Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe she's finally cracked under the pressure of... everything. Larkwing doesn't believe that to be the case, though, she knows what cracking feels like, this is less cracking and more... more like mending.

"Mn," tortoiseshell queen hums in agreement to the comment of their size. They are small. "But so are you," a playful jab. Yeah, she might actually be losing it to be making stupid jokes. Is this really the same shell of a cat who returned to RiverClan? "Our babies," she agrees, and her voice is quiet, a reverent whisper.

As they squirm closer, suckling and mewling in voices brand new and yet so painfully familiar, Larkwing can practically feel the way she vibrates, purring so hard. Gazes meet and emerald eyes melt at the praise. Someone was proud of her. Perhaps for the first time in her life it felt sincere and she accepted it.

"They need names," she says. They hadn't spoken about names, honestly, Larkwing had tried her hardest to ignore that they were coming, trying to convince herself that she could still be a warrior, a role that was useful, and she didn't need to be coddled or provided for. She could do it all herself. So names had never come up. She'd thought about naming them, very briefly, after her brother or Tansypaw, but it felt... strange, to say the least, so the thoughts had been dismissed. "What about... Ivy, or Fern for this one here?" She asks, nudging the tortoiseshell kit with her nose. None of those names held any significant weight to her, other than the fact that she thought they might be pretty.

[ @Dark || @Star || @Rowan || @Weekend-Wondering ]

[Dark]

Fishfreckle

Go With the Flow | Silver Tongue (T1) [Perm] | Mind Reader [Perm]
___________

Larkwing sounded so tired as she spoke. Even a small portion of her old self returned as she playfully joked about his own stature. Listen, he wasn’t that small (the ‘that’ in question being the size of the kits), so that had to count for something!

When the queen mentioned the fact that the kits needed names, Fishfreckle blanched. He hadn’t thought about that! He was so ill-prepared! They hadn’t discussed names, and though he had excellent naming sense (the clan should’ve gone with Wetrock!), he was ill-prepared for this moment. He wasn’t quite sure how he expected the little munchkins to get names, but his input being needed was not what was on his bingo card.

The spotted tabby wracked his brain, trying to figure out something to call their kits, when Larkwing began speaking. Ivykit or Fernkit for the tortoiseshell one? Well, it was a suitable name to say the least. Both suggestions were after a plant, but that was okay. ”Fernkit then.” He said affirmatively, casting a cautious glance at the mother of his kits.

Well, the other two needed names as well, so he had to come up with something! He wanted to give one of them a strong name, something that sounded intimidating and would hopefully prove to be beneficial to them as a warrior later in the future. The white one… well, they didn’t give him “strong” vibes, and to be honest, neither did the calico, but he had to choose one of them. ”How about…” His voice trailed off as he spoke up, brows furrowing in concentration. ”How about Houndkit for the calico? It’s only right that one of our kits should have a good strong name, yeah? After all, their mother is oh so brave and strong ~” It was his turn to tease, but he meant it. Larkwing, despite all of her flaws and shortcomings was one of the strongest cats he knew. He just wished that she could find that part of her again and bring it back out.

[ @Neptune. @Rowan @Star @Weekend-Wondering I was initially waiting for you all, and life got busy so that’s on me chat]