Beautiful Little Strangers (birth topic, open after kits and dad post)

Dayquill

 
The last few days were a complete whirlwhind. Dayquill had escaped the farm– great!, made it back to ThunderClan– great!, lost half his vision– horrible, and been greeted with the sight of Blazefang, heavily pregnant, waiting for him in camp– great! It was a struggle to process everything the last day had brought, but this one wasn't keen on giving him any time to relax. Blazefang was kitting, and he quietly thanked StarClan he'd been able to return when he had.

It'd been a long ordeal, one that looked and sounded painful, but he was there with her in the nursery the entire time, even if he was probably just in Fawnshine's way. But now, hours later, there were five more tiny, mewling bodies between them, swept closer by their mother. Dayquill's heart was soaring; all the angst and panic of yesterday was forgotten, overwhelmed by the raw love he felt for his mate, for their kits. Their kits. His jaw worked slowly, unable to form words even when she prompted him, so he just bent down to lick the top of her head.

Eventually, he managed an awed, "Maplekit and Sparkkit," leaning down to touch his nose as gingerly as possible to the named kits. The other three, for him to name... his chest squeezed again. Blazefang really had kits, and they were really theirs to raise. His attention found the two ginger ones first, brands of sunlight incarnate, just like their mother. "Goldenkit," he murmured to the little molly, "and Sunkit." to the little tom. They'd bring as much light as their namesakes. The last one, the darker tortoiseshell– the thought briefly crossed his mind that she looked like a little lizard. A tired laugh left him, rattled slightly by rising tears. "And Salamanderkit." He paused, reveling in the lightness of the kittens in front of them. Bending down again, he whispered softly, "I love you already. You're all going to be– you're going to be the best warriors ever."

Salamanderkit

A little tortoiseshell kit snuggled into her mothers side, her dark splotched pelt noticeable from the ginger of the rest of the litter. She was the first to be born but the last to be named, a tiny beacon of light and fire in a dim, dark nursery.

Salamanderkit mewled, squirming like the lizard she was named after. Everything was new and foreign to her, yet to be explored and discovered; the world would seem so big so soon, but for right then, next to her siblings and her parents, the only thing that mattered was warmth and safety. Comfort.

She seemed so sweet and soft, for what she would become.

Sparkkit

Sparkkit nuzzled closer to the warmth of her mother, unaware of the snow that blanketed the ground outside. She was pressed between the rest of her littermates, a splash of orange between tortoiseshell and ginger coats. A spark, just like she had been named for.

The tiny kit stretched and yawned, her white whiskers trembling as she did. Not so many moons from now, she would be a ThunderClan apprentice, and after that, a ThunderClan warrior - perhaps even a deputy or leader someday. So many possibilities, all just out of reach from where she slept in the nursery.

That will all come later, StarClan themselves seemed to whisper in the ears of all five sleeping kits. For now, Sparkkit simply dreamed.