Oh dear Starclan not again. (Birth topic)

Oh how Specklefur hated being so heavy with kittens, she couldn't hunt, couldn't fight, could hardly patch anything up, couldn't really order any cats around without straining herself. Somewhere in the back of her mind knew it was not only about her kits but also her age, which was even more frustrating, the thought was grating on her nerves.

Looking begrudgingly out of the den entrance to out of the nursery Specklefur tried to curl in on herself, it wasn't very successful until her guts convulsed. Joy. Specklefur wasn't an idiot, she knew the signs as plain as day, sucking in a breath Specklefur gave a ear-splitting screech. That better get some attention from Foxfang and Nightfire, she didn't want to bother with calling their names it was degrading. Digging a bit at the ground which produced a fair size of a stick she took it in her mouth and waited, she knew what to do but she still needed them there.

She wanted Foxfang there, her partner with her for once when she needed him. Spreading her body across her moss bedding, her teeth clenched on the stick so hard that it was close to splintering, she was going to murder anything that moved after this, other than her kittens that is.

Foxfang's head jolted up at the sudden, wordless noise and instantly understood, scrambling up and almost tripping over his paws to enter the nursery. After moons of overhearing queens kit, the ginger tom was convinced Specklefur wouldn't be in the best of moods for the rest of the day, if not the ones after as well. He knew she'd done this twice already, but neither of those ended well.

He was still a bit in shock that this was actually happening, with their age and all. Jeez, where was Nightfire? He wouldn't admit it, but he was a little scared, and he wasn't even the one kitting!

Nightfire grunted from his sleep, snapping awake. Why was there a shriek and not someone calling his name? Just in case it was a kitting, he quickly grabbed the kitting bundles he had stacked now and followed the noise to the nursery and was right. "Oh Specklefur, quickly take one of these." he mewed, pushing an herb towards her to help the pain." he saw the anger and pain on her face and quickly went closer to the end that had less teeth and claws.

Forcing herself to release her hold on the stick and quickly took the herb and swallowed it with no hesitance, quickly rooting her teeth once more around the stick she sent a side ways glare at Nightfire. Unsheathing her claws she violently stuck them into the ground, tail lashing violently in turn. "What a genius idea it was to... do this." She sarcastically jeered, ears pressing against her skull, threatening to morph into her head completely.

Without command Specklefur pushed, she knew there was a delicate balance between actually being ready and going into labour, it wouldn't make much of a difference if there was another dead kitten from her litter to add to the tally of terrible parenting skills and weak offspring. Eyes flickering rapidly around the den Specklefur let her eyes bore right into Foxfang, silently berating him for doing this to her. It was ridiculous!

The almost laser-like glare he earned from Specklefur forced his own ears to pin back in half fear. Foxfang didn't doubt that she'd attempt to slash at him, even in this context. "Don't ask me," he growled in half-hearted irritation. Somewhere in that stressed-out head of his he understood she was simply taking out some of her pain on him, having really no other option. "I'm still wondering how."

Pushing down onto her stomach, the kits seemed to be in place. "Push Specklefur at the next contraction, you are ready."

OOC: Short post because i'm going to the fair :D

Fawnwillow lately had been noticing the older she-cat's increasingly large belly and her steps becoming heavier. Washing her sleeping daughters and  enjoying the quiet and peace until she heard the strange noises from outside the cozy nursery. Careful not to disturb her own brood she crept out and gasped at the trio. Rushing forward she nuzzled the clearly Specklefur upset in vain to soothe her, "It'll be alright, I can help you anytime you'd like. I'm here for you" She mewed softly. Hoping she would at least get a somewhat kind reply. Vaguely she remembered her own mother talking of Specklefur's losses when it came to kits and the sadness of it pulled her gentle heart.

"Get away from me!" She snapped, while she was at least the smallest amount thankful for the she-cat trying to give her comfort she wasn't in the mood for it, if she was going to be soothed or given sympathy or kind words it should be when she wasn't in agonizing pain and the day was normal. Hissing in pain as her belly was given pressure she snarled at Nightfire being giving another mighty heave, one small brown kitten managed to escape and lay squealing.

"I don't need... your help." She snarled, trying to reach for said red-ish brown kit but failing due to the few more that still needed to take a breath of their own. After a few moments of heavy breathing she tried to reign in her thoughts, which were still lingering on not needing help and wishing for compliments or a nice conversation when she wasn't in pain, but Specklefur wasn't going to go on a whole rant of how sad and depressed, how broken and ripped apart she felt. Oh no she wasn't going to say anything about it, she was going to the grave bearing all of it on her own shoulders, she was too prideful to give anything to her clanmates, Specklefur knew that they wouldn't know how to react to a once angry and frustrated old she-cat that turned visibly depressed or anything.

Sucking in a breath she gave another heave and out came a small, black, fluffy kitten. Oh it looked so small and frail, Specklefur felt as if her heart squeezed to the point that no blood could get in to pump through out her body. She was going to loose it most definitely, letting her tail cover the small black kitten she just hoped that it would live, just a tiny little hope, if she hoped too much her heart would feel as if it was going to be ripped to shreds again. To where she can stitch it up but blood would only seep through the holes and cracks in where she could never really repair, she just hoped that the cracks and holes already there wouldn't give way.

Foxfang couldn't sit still as this was going on, he was far too anxious. Finally, a kitten about the size of his paw, was born. Were they really supposed to be born that tiny? Being more careful than ever before in his life, the ginger tom took the red-brown kit and began to clean them. Was he licking too roughly? He had no idea what he was doing, and there were more coming.

The second kitten mewled softly, then almost indignantly as her mother's tail was put over her. Her still wet fur was sticking in the most uncomfortable of ways. This tiny scrap crawled out from under the fluffy tail just enough to "peek" out. She couldn't see quite yet, though.

OOC: How many? AND WAIT, Foxfang is Nightfire's brother remember?

IC: "You are doing perfect Specklefur, and don't growl at me, i'm seeing things that most cats wouldn't right now" (hue joke) he looked to his brother Foxfang and saw his worry. "Lick more on the chest and face." he mewed, going for the second kit since Specklefur seemed busy.

Fawnwillow understood the she-cat's frustration and anxiety, wordlessly she stepped forward to groom her second kit. The small black scrap was delicately scooped up and groomed soothingly, glancing up at Specklefur between licks and purrs she willed her thoughts towards her. I will be here with you everyday, I won't let your kits die, you've suffered enough.

OOC: I thought there was a full litter, might be but I forgot. Sarrow has one but she probs won't post, not sure rn. And yeah I totally knew that pshhhh

"I'll growl at you all I want! I feel pretty obliged to do it!" She spat, her chest heaving as she looked down at her kittens, (A third one can poof in later if I can get Sarr to post)looking to the smallest of them she softly stared, didn't try to touch it or look too close lest she got attached to it. Specklefur pondered in the back of her head that if these kittens were to live how she was going to be a good mother, both litters both went almost as soon as they were born. Keeping her good eye glued to the kittens she gave a soft nod to Nightfire before looking to Fawnwillow with a hiss.

Getting onto her fore-paws surprisingly shakily she tried to size up the other queen. "What did I not say Fawnwillow? Get away from my kittens! I don't want you near them! I did not permit you!" She yowled, adding all the venom and ice she could to her voice as she bared her teeth, claws tearing into the dirt as she displayed dominance and aggression.

Stiffling a sigh she stepped back, "I was trying to help you, I want to see them live as much as you do" Her soft mew turning to ice, pinning her ears and drawing her lips back she snarled at the stubborn queen and left.

Cloverpool woke from her nest in the nursery her belly swelling. She saw it all but knew that Specklefur didn't want her help ever. The older she cat hates her for some reason and all she every tried to do was be nice and help her but noo she just snapped at her and drove her away. So when Fawnwillow snapped back at Specklefur she went over to stand at her shoulder. She nudged the younger cat away and back into the nursery. She looked at her pitiful nest with her one adopted son Firekit.

Ooc- I thought there would be four(?), but who knows. Foxfang is his nephew, but Adder's long dead, so it doesn't really matter.

Ic- The black kitten mewed quietly as she was picked up and groomed. She'd recognized her mother's scent, having been with her for quite a while already, and knew that whoever was licking her fur wasn't her at all. She couldn't hear, but she could protest, although she only spoke gibberish. Her tail, already fluffing out to resemble Specklefur's, swished as she attempted to crawl away slowly towards the familiar scent.

Foxfang took the medicine cat's advice, carefully grooming the kitten's chest and head with small strokes. They seemed to be doing fine, although a wee bit tired. Specklefur, however, was up and demanding the she-kit be returned to her side. He stood, keeping the tiny piece of fur warm between his paws. "Please, lay down. Here," he picked up the kit, his daughter, he now realized. This little thing in his jaws was his own flesh and blood. Suddenly he felt very protective of these itty-bitty creatures mewling for milk. He placed her in the nest, then the rust brown kit, and urged the large she-cat to rest.

"Look, they're okay. This one's talking, see?" True, the fluffy kit was meowing up until she reached her mother's side, stopping only when she knew she could nurse. "And this one is purring so loud..." His attempts at trying to calm the old warrior down were probably for naught; he didn't do too well in the social department. Those two litters she had before were hard to forget, surely she would think of them now.