The kitten balled up, mewing blindly as they squirmed, feeling other bundles of movement around her. She followed the mindless waddling, making her way to a fading warmth. But it was warmth, and she wasn't going to pass it up. Cold as she was. She heard overhead mumbling, but one thing rang clearer. Flykit. Why did it make her feel something significant? Was it something important? Why did the warmth keep dying? Her eyes were squeezed shut, and there was no opening them. For now, at least. She she was curious about so many things. Why was this that... how was that doing... what was she around... so many she couldn't answer. The alluding curiosity fading quickly as she grew uncomfortable around so much cold. Everything was cold. It was like everything around her had been flocking to same warmth, like moths to light, stealing every last bit of it until there was no more to give.
Snakepelt rushed into the den, hearing news of their mother kitting. As they finally got there, they smiled at the little clumps of fur. They looked a lot like moles. They quickly laid down beside Weepingwillow, lapping at her pelt. They wanted to be there to comfort their mother. And, of course, see their new baby siblings.
"Are you alright?"
They examined the kits for a moment, their stare out the side of their eyes. They didn't want to stop bringing a sense of calm to her. One of the kits, Greykit, as they heard their mother say, was gone. They would make an effort later to bury them, littering their grave with all of the flowers in the forest they could find. They hated anything that made their mother upset.
"It's okay, Greykit's being taken care of in StarClan, I promise you."
Snakepelt whispered soothingly, wrapping their tail around their mothers flank. They were silently glad they missed the agony of the moment, afraid they'd have gotten too saddened by their mothers pain. The aftermath was much easier, as Weepingwillow was much more tired. However, it didn't stop him from feeling a bit too much remorse for the she. They noticed Darkclaw, a long time friend of their mothers, and gave a nod. They felt nice after not seeing them for a while. They did have duties to attend to, unfortunately.
They perked their ears, their mother was giving them the honor of naming one of her kits? Their eyes lit up, a grin plastered to their face.
"Cinderkit, it's quite a lovely name, don't'cha think?"
Snakepelt rushed into the den, hearing news of their mother kitting. As they finally got there, they smiled at the little clumps of fur. They looked a lot like moles. They quickly laid down beside Weepingwillow, lapping at her pelt. They wanted to be there to comfort their mother. And, of course, see their new baby siblings.
"Are you alright?"
They examined the kits for a moment, their stare out the side of their eyes. They didn't want to stop bringing a sense of calm to her. One of the kits, Greykit, as they heard their mother say, was gone. They would make an effort later to bury them, littering their grave with all of the flowers in the forest they could find. They hated anything that made their mother upset.
"It's okay, Greykit's being taken care of in StarClan, I promise you."
Snakepelt whispered soothingly, wrapping their tail around their mothers flank. They were silently glad they missed the agony of the moment, afraid they'd have gotten too saddened by their mothers pain. The aftermath was much easier, as Weepingwillow was much more tired. However, it didn't stop him from feeling a bit too much remorse for the she. They noticed Darkclaw, a long time friend of their mothers, and gave a nod. They felt nice after not seeing them for a while. They did have duties to attend to, unfortunately.
They perked their ears, their mother was giving them the honor of naming one of her kits? Their eyes lit up, a grin plastered to their face.
"Cinderkit, it's quite a lovely name, don't'cha think?"
Weepingwillow watched her son come in, gently purring as she felt his rest beside her, grooming her pelt calmingly, still leaning against Nightwhisper, Weepingwillow leaned her head forward to press it to her her son's shoulder for a short moment, "I'm fine.." She whispered, lifting her head and looking sat the newly named Cinderkit with a purr, "It's a very lovely name. Thank you." Weepingwillow was quite tired but didn't let her usually goofy sarcasm escape her grasp, "And of course you can tell him you named him once he's about a moon old. I'm sure he'll be thrilled." Weepingwillow snorted, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, Honeypetal and, Snakepelt. You two are now Cinderkit, Emberkit, and Skytkit's older siblings. I understand as warriors with apprenitce's your busy, but..... I ask of you to please stay a present figure in there lives. They'll need it as much as I do." Weepingwillow purred, giving her kits a hard look. "And please stop ignoring your father and only talking to me, he raised you to." Weepingwillow pointed out, feeling Nightwhisper give an embarssed shift.
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Re: ThunderClan Nursery
Mantiskit was squirming with the other kits looking for milk. Kits kept bumping in to each other, fighting for milk and warmth. But the warmth was disappearing and replaced with a new smell. She didn't care, the kit just wanted milk.
It was warm. So warm. Cozy and awesome. But the kit wasn't here to stay. She had to get out! It was so, so crowded in here. And this lump of fur next to her wouldn't stop moving! So, she started pushing to escape this warm prison. After what seemed like an eternity of trying to escape, the cold engolfed her body. No! Let me back in! It's too cold!
She nuzzled who she assumed was her mothers stomach,
searching for milk. She needed it! But strong vibrations scared the little kit. What was going on? But soon, Waspkit was much too tied to care.
The air was thick. Stagnant. Her nose was assaulted by an array of scents, very few of them pleasant. Writhing and flailing, she searched desperately for something, some kind of warmth, not this cold, cold air. It clung to her soaked through pelt like mud. Continuing to squirm, she found her way to something warm. The smell wasn't so bad over here. Something wriggled beside her, before slowing down. This seemed nice.
the following post will contain details of labor going wrong and death. most of it is under a spoiler as a result. [ If you've been mentioned and aren't a kit, it means you're a queen on the allegiances! Wolfhive needs at least 1 - 2 queens to take in 13 newborns, as their mother just died. ]
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Throughout the day, Briarberry had dealt with some strange sensations in her stomach but nothing quite like this. As dusk began to fall, so did her tolerance - the mild discomfort was growing progressively worse, escalating to the point where she began to writhe. "Ow!" What was going on?? Did one of the kittens mega-kick her? Another flare of pain, this time worse than the last. She nearly crumpled into herself. "Dung, what.."
Her pregnancy had always been hard, had always left her sore and uncomfortable but not... this. Her body convulsed and she groaned, rolling onto her side as a way to try to alleviate the pain.. to no avail. "I think.." another gasp, her body folding in another convulsion. "the kits are coming...!"
-------
Wolfhive had been passing by the den when Briarberry's cries caught his attention. In most cases, labor was quick and needed little help - but something felt.. different. He could smell blood, metallic and almost overwhelmingly strong. Something was wrong.
His memory immediately went back to Tawnykit, whom had been struck by a snake some moons ago and died in this very den. Instinctively he followed the scent, hackles raised in preparation to strike.
Thankfully, there were no snakes.
Unfortunately, there was Briarberry... convulsing in pain, a pool of blood forming beneath her. "Um..." Yeah, he wasn't an expert, but wasn't that quite a bit of blood?
"Quit standing there and help!" Briarberry screeched, spurring Wolfhive out of being frozen. Unlike battle wounds, he was completely unequipped in matters of labor, especially ones that seemed to be going wrong! "Drizzlecloud! Spiderthroat!" Wolfhive howled as he found a nearby stick - well, to be more exact he plucked one from the wall to give to Briarberry. She clamped down on it so hard he thought she'd snap it in two.
He didn't have time to find them, no one would - because in the span of the next few moments Briarberry would begin to push, push, push! Wolfhive's first instinct was to focus on helping her to the best of his ability, utilizing the fresh moss around the den to soak up much of the blood.
When all was said and done, thirteen kittens were nestled beside Briarberry and she was exhausted against her nest. She'd lost... too much blood. A kitten had gotten stuck. Wolfhive managed to get it free but.. in doing so, he unleashed a wave of blood. More than he'd ever seen. And he had killed people!
It was actually quite nauseating.
-------
Briarberry felt so weak, but as she gazed at her kittens all she felt was overwhelming warmth. "Perfect..." she murmured. "just... perfect..."
"Briarberry..."
They both knew.
"I.. want to name them."
"You don't want Spiderthroat to help?"
Wolfhive hadn't missed the new father's absence, but had been so focused in trying to stop the bleeding-- he still was, soaked moss discarded in piles beside him as he stole more from nearby nests.
"No," a weak chuckle. "He.. hasn't.. been around. No, I want to name them." Gently, she would nose the kits in question as she dubbed them. "Spiderlingkit.. a clone of her father." Coincidentally, as only she knew the truth. "Beetle..kit, Cricketkit, Hornetkit.. Waspkit, Butterflykit, Mantiskit..." she had to close her eyes. Stars knew how hard this was, to find the last of her strength to name her babies. HER babies, whom had gotten this far.. she never thought she'd have so many with Chief Chonk, but she was glad ThunderClan would have so many more future warriors.
".. F--Fleakit, Dragonflykit... Fireflykit... Flykit... C..Cicadakit.. and.." her youngest, her tiniest. A little "Mitekit.. oh, my little.. precious bugs.." Briarberry sank back, spent. She felt all fuzzy and tired. "... make sure.. theyre looked.. after.." and then she was gone.
-------
Wolfhive was left alone with a small army of children and he had no idea on what to do. Well, okay, they needed milk... he needed to find them a surrogate, he guessed? Or was it a foster? Hell if he knew. This was way above his paygrade.
Step one, find a queen. With Briarberry already gone, Wolfhive had to decide to leave her there-- just a smidge-- because her fading warmth was better for the kiddos than nothing. He exited the den to sought out a queen, paws coated in dark blood. "I need a queen!! Briarberry's.. she's dead, her kits need milk!"
Saying that felt like a finality, a confession of failure.
They hadn't.. had time to find someone who might save her.. there was so much blood, nothing stopped it.
He was struggling to keep his nausea under control, unaware of how much he was shaking.
[QUOTE=Rose;1626358]
Never before had they seen so many kits. More than a dozen. Her sister’s kittens. Softdaisy’s very own nephews, her nieces, her neicphews. Her sister’s… Briarberry’s…
Grief swept over the lilac tortie like a tidal wave, the tears that had been flowing for a while now continuing to fall. If she was being truthful, Softdaisy would admit the jealousy she’d harbored briefly. Her sister, the lucky one, the cat who lit up every den she walked into - and don’t get Softdaisy wrong, she loved Briarberry to the moon and beyond, but then they’d both been pregnant and… the father of Softdaisy’s kits wasn’t the Clan deputy. That was Briarberry’s kits. The more special ones. The ones to be doted on and visited. To be completely honest, Softdaisy couldn’t even recall much of whoever had been the parent to her litter.
It had been a vague dream, a line in the sand she and Briarberry had drawn together. They’d have kits of their own, and those kits would have a proper family. Finally. This dream… Softdaisy had never really noted how much it meant to her. Not until she was going into labor a fortnight too early and they were gone, snatched from her. Two tiny kittens, stillborn. She’d lost them. It had been hard not to be envious as Briarberry remained round with kits. And sure, perhaps that made her a terrible sister…
But now here she was, lamenting her own stupid struggles. Briarberry was… gone, and Softdaisy again hadn’t even realized what she had until it was gone. “I’ll take the rest of them.” Her voice was soft, raspy and thick with emotion. Softdaisy realized to speak up only when Weepingwillow offered to take a couple. “I… Briarberry is my sister, I can raise her kittens. If Weepingwillow wants to help wean them, that’s a-alright. I… have none of my own, mine are lost.” Perhaps her sister had died to go take care of them in StarClan for her. Her littermate was thoughtful like that.
She was broken-hearted, that her other half had ascended to a place she could not follow. And once that grief dissipated, there would be hell to pay - for Spiderthroat, for not being there for his wife and the mother of his kits in her last moments. Softdaisy gently lowered herself into the nest of squirming insects newborns on her side. Oh yes, she’d be pushing this litter of thirteen to go interact with their father at every turn.
Cicadakit
| He/him | 0 moons |
Cicadakit mewed anxiously, smelling the faint metallic scent of blood in the air. He was hungry, and that was not the scent of something to be eaten at his age. But for the time being, he had more pressing concerns - the warmth he had initially been surrounded by was fading fast, the squirming of things around him migrating to a different location. He followed the heat as fast as his tiny little body could move, wrestling through the army of what he would eventually learn to be his siblings until he eventually found his way to Softdaisy's side. As the blood scent faded, he could smell a sweeter mouth-watering scent and quickly snatched a spot to suckle, determined to quench the ache in his tummy. With warmth and food secured, he quieted - content.
Last edited by Zero; August 7th, 2024 at 03:48 PM.
[ If anything is wrong, tell me. I am half asleep, pls ]
Never before had they seen so many kits. More than a dozen. Her sister’s kittens. Softdaisy’s very own nephews, her nieces, her neicphews. Her sister’s… Briarberry’s…
Grief swept over the lilac tortie like a tidal wave, the tears that had been flowing for a while now continuing to fall. If she was being truthful, Softdaisy would admit the jealousy she’d harbored briefly. Her sister, the lucky one, the cat who lit up every den she walked into - and don’t get Softdaisy wrong, she loved Briarberry to the moon and beyond, but then they’d both been pregnant and… the father of Softdaisy’s kits wasn’t the Clan deputy. That was Briarberry’s kits. The more special ones. The ones to be doted on and visited. To be completely honest, Softdaisy couldn’t even recall much of whoever had been the parent to her litter.
It had been a vague dream, a line in the sand she and Briarberry had drawn together. They’d have kits of their own, and those kits would have a proper family. Finally. This dream… Softdaisy had never really noted how much it meant to her. Not until she was going into labor a fortnight too early and they were gone, snatched from her. Two tiny kittens, stillborn. She’d lost them. It had been hard not to be envious as Briarberry remained round with kits. And sure, perhaps that made her a terrible sister…
But now here she was, lamenting her own stupid struggles. Briarberry was… gone, and Softdaisy again hadn’t even realized what she had until it was gone. “I’ll take the rest of them.” Her voice was soft, raspy and thick with emotion. Softdaisy realized to speak up only when Weepingwillow offered to take a couple. “I… Briarberry is my sister, I can raise her kittens. If Weepingwillow wants to help wean them, that’s a-alright. I… have none of my own, mine are lost.” Perhaps her sister had died to go take care of them in StarClan for her. Her littermate was thoughtful like that.
She was broken-hearted, that her other half had ascended to a place she could not follow. And once that grief dissipated, there would be hell to pay - for Spiderthroat, for not being there for his wife and the mother of his kits in her last moments. Softdaisy gently lowered herself into the nest of squirming insects newborns on her side. Oh yes, she’d be pushing this litter of thirteen to go interact with their father at every turn.
FOXKIT Brown tabby she-cat with oak brown eyes. 4 Moons. She/Her. "Will the curse be reversed if I say it backwards?" /lyr
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The brown tabby she-kit shifted a bit, her eyes fluttering open. It took her eyes a moment to focus, as if she was processing the voice that had spoken.
She looked up, blinking at the warrior. She seemed to be fine, just sleeping. Foxkit's ears twitched. Why was a warrior waking her? Had she done something wrong?
"Oh, uhm... hello?"
She meowed carefully. The she-kit was quite calm, tilting her head curiously.
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@Oliver (No worries, it's fine! I was kind of hoping someone would respond lol)
Orangeblossom half startled as the kit lifted their head to look at him with a mewed question... because yeah, it wasn't like Orangeblossom knew this kit at all. He gave a sheepish grin and readjusted his paws underneath him before answering, "Sorry! I just- get paranoid at times, wanted to make sure you were okay! Sorry for waking you, I should go check through the rest of the nursery..." He trailed off awkwardly as he looked back towards the space, as chaotic as ever it was it seemed. The warrior found himself sometimes thinking he sees one of his siblings out of the corner of his eyes, but he also knows that they were fake. For some reason... it didn't actually hurt too much to have that happen, maybe it was because he was always distracted with the next thing that was happening in the den. "Oh! Before I go, I'm Orangeblossom, you?" He asked, lightly tilting his head at the previously sleeping kit.
The air was thick. Stagnant. Her nose was assaulted by an array of scents, very dew of them pleasant. Writhing and flailing, she searched desperately for something, some kind of warmth, not this cold, cold air. It clung to her soaked through pelt like mud. Continuing to squirm, she found her way to something warm. The smell wasn't so bad over here. Something wriggled beside her, before slowing down. This seemed nice.
Waspkit
Thunderclan kit, She/her 0 moons
[Powerplay permission given by Sleepyyjax]
Who was beside her? Who?! They smelt like all of the other fur balls around her! Waspkit squirmed a bit closer to the kit next to her, nuzzling into their side. She had no idea who this was, but Waspkit knew they were connected somehow. But that didn't mean Waspkit would like it! She opened her mouth slightly and chomped down somwehere on the kit next to her even if she didn't have teeth. Waspkit huffed softly and let go of the kit next to her.
[These looks odd to me. If it is, sorry. I don't rp newborn kits often]
__________________
My characters thoughts and actions are not my own. They are simply roleplay characters and reflect nothing of my person and who I am.
the following post will contain details of labor going wrong and death. most of it is under a spoiler as a result. [ If you've been mentioned and aren't a kit, it means you're a queen on the allegiances! Wolfhive needs at least 1 - 2 queens to take in 13 newborns, as their mother just died. ]
-------
Throughout the day, Briarberry had dealt with some strange sensations in her stomach but nothing quite like this. As dusk began to fall, so did her tolerance - the mild discomfort was growing progressively worse, escalating to the point where she began to writhe. "Ow!" What was going on?? Did one of the kittens mega-kick her? Another flare of pain, this time worse than the last. She nearly crumpled into herself. "Dung, what.."
Her pregnancy had always been hard, had always left her sore and uncomfortable but not... this. Her body convulsed and she groaned, rolling onto her side as a way to try to alleviate the pain.. to no avail. "I think.." another gasp, her body folding in another convulsion. "the kits are coming...!"
-------
Wolfhive had been passing by the den when Briarberry's cries caught his attention. In most cases, labor was quick and needed little help - but something felt.. different. He could smell blood, metallic and almost overwhelmingly strong. Something was wrong.
His memory immediately went back to Tawnykit, whom had been struck by a snake some moons ago and died in this very den. Instinctively he followed the scent, hackles raised in preparation to strike.
Thankfully, there were no snakes.
Unfortunately, there was Briarberry... convulsing in pain, a pool of blood forming beneath her. "Um..." Yeah, he wasn't an expert, but wasn't that quite a bit of blood?
"Quit standing there and help!" Briarberry screeched, spurring Wolfhive out of being frozen. Unlike battle wounds, he was completely unequipped in matters of labor, especially ones that seemed to be going wrong! "Drizzlecloud! Spiderthroat!" Wolfhive howled as he found a nearby stick - well, to be more exact he plucked one from the wall to give to Briarberry. She clamped down on it so hard he thought she'd snap it in two.
He didn't have time to find them, no one would - because in the span of the next few moments Briarberry would begin to push, push, push! Wolfhive's first instinct was to focus on helping her to the best of his ability, utilizing the fresh moss around the den to soak up much of the blood.
When all was said and done, thirteen kittens were nestled beside Briarberry and she was exhausted against her nest. She'd lost... too much blood. A kitten had gotten stuck. Wolfhive managed to get it free but.. in doing so, he unleashed a wave of blood. More than he'd ever seen. And he had killed people!
It was actually quite nauseating.
-------
Briarberry felt so weak, but as she gazed at her kittens all she felt was overwhelming warmth. "Perfect..." she murmured. "just... perfect..."
"Briarberry..."
They both knew.
"I.. want to name them."
"You don't want Spiderthroat to help?"
Wolfhive hadn't missed the new father's absence, but had been so focused in trying to stop the bleeding-- he still was, soaked moss discarded in piles beside him as he stole more from nearby nests.
"No," a weak chuckle. "He.. hasn't.. been around. No, I want to name them." Gently, she would nose the kits in question as she dubbed them. "Spiderlingkit.. a clone of her father." Coincidentally, as only she knew the truth. "Beetle..kit, Cricketkit, Hornetkit.. Waspkit, Butterflykit, Mantiskit..." she had to close her eyes. Stars knew how hard this was, to find the last of her strength to name her babies. HER babies, whom had gotten this far.. she never thought she'd have so many with Chief Chonk, but she was glad ThunderClan would have so many more future warriors.
".. F--Fleakit, Dragonflykit... Fireflykit... Flykit... C..Cicadakit.. and.." her youngest, her tiniest. A little "Mitekit.. oh, my little.. precious bugs.." Briarberry sank back, spent. She felt all fuzzy and tired. "... make sure.. theyre looked.. after.." and then she was gone.
-------
Wolfhive was left alone with a small army of children and he had no idea on what to do. Well, okay, they needed milk... he needed to find them a surrogate, he guessed? Or was it a foster? Hell if he knew. This was way above his paygrade.
Step one, find a queen. With Briarberry already gone, Wolfhive had to decide to leave her there-- just a smidge-- because her fading warmth was better for the kiddos than nothing. He exited the den to sought out a queen, paws coated in dark blood. "I need a queen!! Briarberry's.. she's dead, her kits need milk!"
Saying that felt like a finality, a confession of failure.
They hadn't.. had time to find someone who might save her.. there was so much blood, nothing stopped it.
He was struggling to keep his nausea under control, unaware of how much he was shaking.
[ Kit Roleplayers: submit to the allegiances if you haven't yet! You do not need to respond to this post ; we can do a little time jump to when they're a bit older so they can be roleplayed easier. In this roleplay, Wolf will be harassing the current queens til someone caves and agrees to look after the mini army. ]
[ If anything is wrong, tell me. I am half asleep, pls ]
Never before had they seen so many kits. More than a dozen. Her sister’s kittens. Softdaisy’s very own nephews, her nieces, her neicphews. Her sister’s… Briarberry’s…
Grief swept over the lilac tortie like a tidal wave, the tears that had been flowing for a while now continuing to fall. If she was being truthful, Softdaisy would admit the jealousy she’d harbored briefly. Her sister, the lucky one, the cat who lit up every den she walked into - and don’t get Softdaisy wrong, she loved Briarberry to the moon and beyond, but then they’d both been pregnant and… the father of Softdaisy’s kits wasn’t the Clan deputy. That was Briarberry’s kits. The more special ones. The ones to be doted on and visited. To be completely honest, Softdaisy couldn’t even recall much of whoever had been the parent to her litter.
It had been a vague dream, a line in the sand she and Briarberry had drawn together. They’d have kits of their own, and those kits would have a proper family. Finally. This dream… Softdaisy had never really noted how much it meant to her. Not until she was going into labor a fortnight too early and they were gone, snatched from her. Two tiny kittens, stillborn. She’d lost them. It had been hard not to be envious as Briarberry remained round with kits. And sure, perhaps that made her a terrible sister…
But now here she was, lamenting her own stupid struggles. Briarberry was… gone, and Softdaisy again hadn’t even realized what she had until it was gone. “I’ll take the rest of them.” Her voice was soft, raspy and thick with emotion. Softdaisy realized to speak up only when Weepingwillow offered to take a couple. “I… Briarberry is my sister, I can raise her kittens. If Weepingwillow wants to help wean them, that’s a-alright. I… have none of my own, mine are lost.” Perhaps her sister had died to go take care of them in StarClan for her. Her littermate was thoughtful like that.
She was broken-hearted, that her other half had ascended to a place she could not follow. And once that grief dissipated, there would be hell to pay - for Spiderthroat, for not being there for his wife and the mother of his kits in her last moments. Softdaisy gently lowered herself into the nest of squirming insects newborns on her side. Oh yes, she’d be pushing this litter of thirteen to go interact with their father at every turn.
At first, it was warm then it was cold then warm, and then cold again. All these temperature changes were freaking Mitekit out along with that irony smell that was so pungent it was clugging her nostrils. it didn't help that she was getting jumbled around by all these other small but larger bundles around her. Until another form settled in front of her and all she could smell was the tasty scent of milk. Now she was content with her small world unaware of the loss that happened mere hours ago.
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"I need something bigger than the sky; Hold it in my arms and know it's mine"
✭storage ✭ mitekit (thc) - palepeach (thc) - daintycurl (shc) - softfeather (alt skyclan) - osprey (alt tosw)
Re: ThunderClan Nursery
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