Cold...Cold...She heard mewls but they were so far away. The ground beneath her was harsh and unwelcoming. The warmth she craved seemed to be unattainable. Her legs squirmed but couldn't seem to pull her body anywhere. The air hit her like...pain. She struggled, fighting, clawing at the ground with soft claws, getting nowhere. She let out an angry hiss, her face contorting but no sound escaping. So she fell mewed, bellowing it from her shaking lungs as she fought to move...somewhere.
**Doeheart**
@
Starfall @
Slushie @
Estelle @
Castle
The nursery was growing homier but the running of kits around the cozy den was making Doeheart crave for her kits to come out into the world. Nights were growing more sleepless and walking had become waddling. The news of Sleethound at the last gathering had struck her hard but she pushed it away. She held the same resolve now as she had before she learned of Sleethound's exile, when she thought he simply might be busy with Thunderclan, she couldn't afford to worry. Her kits needed her to be fully present, focusing on their growth and development.
The pretty lilac calico stepped out of the nursery, dropping into a stretch until her belly brushed the ground. She sighed. Her muscles felt tight and needing a good stretch but she couldn't ever seem to get in a full stretch without her belly getting in the way some how or another. She shook her head, her body attempting to follow but not hardly moving under the weight of her midsection, then stepped heavily through the clearing. Her bright amber eyes scanned the clearing for her nephew, Codwhisper. She needed to take a walk, clear her head and hopefully exercise these kits into coming out, but she knew it'd be frowned upon for her to leave camp alone in the state she was in. Worse, Codwhisper himself would probably scold her ear off. The young tom loved going for walks and she was sure he'd appreciate the stroll through the territory. Checking the clearing and then the warrior's den, she didn't see him. She shrugged,
Well I won't sit around all day waiting for him. She smiled, he was likely on another of his adventures, in which case she decided she'd go for a short walk and be back before he even returned.
She lumbered through the camp entrance, trying to keep her pace steady but slightly faster than she was really comfortable with. Her goal was to encourage these kits to come out, not lull them into a nap. The territory around her smelled somehow...more. It was fresher than she remembered and she could smell the woody reeds, the brackish pond waters and the fresh spray of the creeks, the earthiness of wet moss on rocks. She let out her breath in a contented sigh and kept moving forward. The day was warm and she couldn't help being hopeful for the future, and think that today would be an ideal day for her kits to be born. Part of her wanted to kit right out here, in a nice sunny spot out in a soft patch of dirt or atop some dry riverweeds. She sighed. She knew it wasn't practical, however lovely it sounded. There was danger out here, whether they saw it or not. No, she knew she had to put her kits' safety above her own comforts.
She stopped as the border neared, somewhat shocked that she'd already made it so far from camp. She glanced along the border, towards the Thunderclan territory.
Would Sleethound still be hanging around? She was so near the outskirts, near Thunderclan. If the father of her kits was exiled and still near, maybe he was right out there, somewhere nearby in that forest. Doeheart had a nearly irresistible urge to cross the border, looking for the tom who'd wooed her, stole her heart, hear his side of the story. She still couldn't believe he had pushed that apprentice out of the tree. There just
had to be some other explanation. Doeheart sighed as she let her gaze drop away from the unknown forest outside their borders. It was impractical. She couldn't go chasing after a tom from another clan, exiled, with no idea where he actually was, much less in the states she was in.
Doeheart was about to turn around when a mewling caught her attention. Tufted ears perked up and her head went on a swivel.
Am I hearing things? Is it my desire for these kits to be born playing tricks on me? But as she stared over the border into the unclaimed territory of the outskirts, she heard it again. The sound was faint but distinct, unmistakably the mewl of a young kit. Doeheart's heart began to race.
What's a kit doing out here?.....What am I walking myself into? She realized she could be waddling herself right into a rogue mother's den and nobody knew better than her how protective a new mother would be, but she couldn't turn away. What if that kit needed help? She hit a point where she began to sense she was close but she didn't know where to begin looking, so she stood still, limiting her panting so she could reach out her senses for the crying kit. It came again, softer but much nearer. She turned toward the sound quickly, padding heavily forward. She stopped as the ground sloped sharply down, her amber eyes searched desperately down the gully until they stopped on something. She made out a brown and white pelt, still. Doeheart quieted her breathing, focusing on the pelt of what surely had to be a full-grown loner. Until the mewling came again, unmistakably from the eerily still loner.
Doeheart swallowed thickly, bracing herself for what she may find, before slowly, carefully, making her way down the embankment. She crept cautiously up on the strange cat. Movement made her flinch but then she realized it was coming from the nook of her belly, not the cat herself. Doeheart got close enough to reach her nose out and sniff the still loner, the undeniable scent of infection and death wafting from her. Sadness overtook her worries,
What a sad way to go. Out here alone, with nobody to bury you. Then the wiggling brought her back to why she'd found the loner in the first place. She gasped as she looked down, taking in the scene around her. Four kits snuggled against their dead and cooling mother, but in so many states of shocking disability. One kit had extra, pieces, growing from various places and the other three were small and fragile. A loud wail pulled her from her pity and a shock ran through her. Two more kits lay at the poor dead queen's backside. One kit, much like the three with the mother, was small and skinny, but the other kit, having never made it completely free of the mother, was purple and stiff. Sadness gripped her heart and she could only imagine the horror the queen had suffered in her final moments, leaving her kits in so much uncertainty. Heavily pregnant but weighted eve further by grief, Doeheart gently lifted the lone she-kit and set her down among her brothers then laid her body on the other side of the kits from their dead mother.
"Hush now, dear ones," she whispered,
"You're safe now." The brown and white she-cat's stiff paws chilled Doeheart but she kept her body from flinching away, offering the kits some warmth and comfort.
After a few heartbeats, Doeheart took a deep breath, solidifying her resolve. These kits needed a mother and the poor dead queen, wherever she may be now, needed the peace to know her kits would be cared for and loved. She wanted desperately to burying the queen and her dead kit but she knew she had neither the time nor the energy to complete the task. So she switched her thoughts to the five living kits, taking a deep breath. They all needed to get back to the nursery with her. Standing up, she grabbed two kits by their scruff and started the trek up the embankment. A safe distance away from the drop, Doeheart set the two down in the cover of a bush then returned for two more. Setting those two with the first two she slid back down to grab the fifth. Giving the queen one last long regretful look, Doeheart turned with the last of the loner's kits and climbed back up the hill. By the time she returned to the first four kits, she was panting heavily. She knew this was only the beginning and once again she wished that Codwhisper was with her. She was sure her nephew wouldn't have said anything against finding and bringing back the kits and his assistance now would have made everything easier, but he wasn't here so Doeheart steeled herself and moved forward. In the same leapfrog fashion she worked all five kits back to camp.
The sun was setting by the time she made it to the camp entrance. She waited outside the camp, crouching within a clump of reeds with her five new kits, watching the entrance as she panted, shaky and exhausted. She needed to get all five kits in without being spotted. She knew there's likely be some questions by some of the queens that saw her between now and when her own kits came but most of the clan seemed better than asking the questions outright. If she could avoid answering any unwanted questions for long enough then hopefully it'd all simply go away. She resolved now that these kits were as much hers, and thus had as much right to be here, as the kits squirming in her belly.
After a while of no activity at the entrance, Doeheart took a deep breath and picked up the first kit. She decided doing the lone one first would give her a better chance to scope things out without being too conspicuous. She hurried, as quickly as her body would allow, through the entrance. It seemed the clearing was empty so she ducked into the nursery, keeping her eyes averted from any prying eyes, though it seemed the other queens were already asleep or not in their nests. She quickly returned for the other four kits, sneaking them all in with three trips and no incidents. With all five kits safely in her nest, Doeheart, exhausted and dizzy from exertion, carefully lowered herself down around the kits. She knew she likely didn't have any milk yet but it should be coming and hopefully the presence of the kits would coax it in early. She hoped only that the litter had received just enough from their mother to carry them through the night.
Closing the Circle [P]
