|:| Sparks From The Fire {BIRTH TOPIC}|:| [semi-open to all of tc; MC needed]

The russet she-cat finally settled down into a moss bed, eyes wide, breathing rapid.

Since sunrise she'd been pacing around the nursery that she'd been assigned to, missing her warrior duties, flinching with pain as kicks hit her hard from inside. Though she'd seen many queens give birth in her lifetime, never had she imagined it happening to her. Now here she was, waves rolling through her, a sort of painful knowing spreading throughout her body. It was time.

"Dreamleaf! Sparkpaw!" Emberheart yowled loudly, her voice splintering through the thick bracken as it cracked with pain. She couldn't concentrate; she was too afraid, her heart rate speeding up and fear coating the young warrior's lungs.

"Emberheart? Your kits are coming?" Sparkpaw shouted from across the camp, recognising her voice instantly. She knew the queen had been expecting kits, and now her skills would be put to the test once more. "Hang on!" She dashed to her den and quickly selected the appropriate herbs and seeds, making sure to grab a stick. The medicine cat apprentice darted over to the she-cat. "Alright, alright. Stay calm. Bite down hard on the stick, and push as much as you can. If the pain is too much, chew on these poppy seeds. You can do it!"

The russet warrior only nodded, to filled with pain to do anything else. She bit down hard on the stick, a satisfying crunch ringing in her ears.

I do not need poppy seeds, she thought, eyes narrowed with determination as another wave overcame her. A small, slimy bundle slid out, and she whipped her head around with wide eyes to see—but yowled and turned away as another agony hurled itself at her. 

ooc;; welcome to the world, cypresskit

The soon-to-be-named Cypresskit made no noises as soon as she was let into the world. Everything was darkness, and the only thing she could sense was scent. It was milk, and her mother's scent. The she-kit squirmed forwards, her small and fragile paws dragging her tiny body along slowly yet surely. When she finally latched on, she began to suckle hungrily, putting warm milk into her body.

Emberheart let out another strong heave, leg kicking, before her ears pricked at the loud slurping noise and she lifted her head to glance down at her belly, wanting to know what was happening. But another wave of pain threw her off balance and she gripped a different side of the stick, the stuff cracking between her very jaws as another bundle appeared by her side.

ooc;; come markedkit child

Markedkit blinked in the harsh light, she could feel something beneath, something strange and unfamiliar. Her eyes were closed but she could feel the cold around her. She edged forward, towards the nearest patch of warmth she could feel, which was also surrounded by the scent of milk and something else. Her mother. She latched on, suckling thirstily, feeling something warm and soft nxt to her. Her sister.

An auburn fire against the cool, dark moss and bracken of the nursery, the she-cat heaved a shaky breath and then pushed as hard as possible, praying to Starclan that it would all be over soon. Instinct told her that there was only one left; and her body used all this knowledge to push one last, heaving effort. The concluding kit finally tumbled out, and Emberheart was tempted to just fall asleep. But there was so much more to do, and she struggled to raise her head and look down. A motherly affection came over her for the first time and she licked each one gently, letting out a tired, content purr.

•••

The final kit mewled, the cold air swamping her new lungs. The newborn let out her first breath, curled into the stomach of her mother, and suckled beside her littermates. She kneaded Emberheart's belly, and let out a tiny purr as she was licked, warmth blossoming inside of her.

ooc;; alright, now the camp and toms can post ;P

(idk, I needed to add sheep in briefly for this. rip)

Sheepnose had had no clue before hand that Emberheart was pregnant with Pinewhisker's kits, and it was quite the nasty shock for her when she padded into the nursery after hearing the commotion. Once the white she-cat spotted Emberheart and her three kits suckling innocently, her neutral expression faded into a frown. The two had decided to have kits together...
Sheepnose felt a hiss escape her jaws, and she fixed the kits with a glare.
Forget it. She thought, blinking and melting her icy glare into another neutral gaze. The kits were, in fact, beautiful, but Sheepnose couldn't bring herself to feel any positive emotions towards them. Without saying another word, she turned and stalked out of the nursery.

ooc;; you so cruel

Emberheart, newly a queen, pricked her ears when Sheepnose appeared, hoping it would be Pinewhisker. She was weary of the newcomer, but when the she-cat hissed at her kits, glared at her kits, she let out a rippling snarl at the she.

"Get out," she growled, having a mind to stand up and make Sheepnose's beautiful white pelt some color a little darker.

But she could barely even move her head, and anyway, and the she-cat was gone before she could utter another word. She turned back to her kits, licking each one in turn again. "It's alright," she the fiery queen cooed. "She's just a pretentious piece of frog-dung. No need to get upset over that."

Pinewhisker padded into the nursery as soon as the medicine cats allowed. He wanted to see Emberheart badly, and the kits even more. At the entrance, he bumped into the scene of three kits suckling at a hissing Emberheart, and Sheepnose in the same furious manner in the entrance. He pushed past her, bounding up to his mate's side and curling his tail around her back, glaring at Sheepnose with a sad but stern gaze, his jaw let and his whole body strained. After a few heartbeats, he bowed his head, nosing the kits gently with a small smile. "Have you named them?" the tomcat murmured in Emberheart's ear, conscious of the snowy white figure heavy with spite that cornered them like a fox.

The golden-red she relaxed as Pinewhisker appeared next to her, wanting to scream, Ha! He chose me! But she was too tired.

She let out a yawn, blinking drearily. "I…I want to name this one Cypresskit…" she nuzzled the eldest kit fondly, then moved onto the next one, a grey-russet-white mixture. "And Markedkit." She did the same to the calico, before frowning towards the dark, stormy brown youngest.

"You can name her—I can't think of one."

Inside, however, her mind was reeling as she stared at Markedkit. She had the obvious characteristics of Sleetfang; and inside, no matter how much she tried to deny it, she knew what had happened. Here, in Thunderclan camp, she had given birth to a forbidden kit, ignored her mate. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it to just be a dream, but when she opened the dusty orbs again, she knew it was real.


Well, Starclan, she thought, curling protectively around her kits, I'll love her just the same. Stop me, if you can try—I won't give her up that easily.


And she turned, independence flaring in her eyes, back to Pinewhisker, awaiting his answer.

He woke up at once. Blacktwig slipped into the den, eager to see Emberheart's beautiful kits. He, in the quarrel between his two sisters, Sheepnose and Emberheart, was neutral. He gazed down at them with pride, purring. "What'd you name them?" Blacktwig asked warmly. The squirming bundles of wet fur were now drying out, and became fluffy kits of pomp and daintiness. "Oh—you haven't named all of them yet," realized Blacktwig awkwardly.

Pinewhisker looked in turn at the two kits already named, and his green eyes fell over the brown she-kit, the one that was keft without a name. His heart was pounding in his chest as he reckognized the beautiful silky pelt that he and his sister bore. He nuzzled her gently. "Cypresskit, Markedkit and... Amberkit." the tomcat meowed as Blacktwig came in, and he greeted his friend with a purr.

"I like those names," complimented Blacktwig, blinking his big, rotunded eyes wide. "Cypresskit, Markedkit, and Amberkit... little Amberkit..." Blacktwig noted the name of young Amberkit. Just like Amberlight... Fadedlight when she died. He hated to think about that. This was a period of birth, not death.

Emberheart nodded, liking the ring to the name—but her heart felt a little heavier in her chest. I didn't save her.
One of her white-tipped ears flicked as Blacktwig appeared, her eyes shining with golden and amber. She nudged the kits, letting out a relaxed sigh and resting her head down on the moss. She needed sleep—and it came easily. There were still questions that needed to be answered, things that needed to be done, but for then, it was just her, her big brother, her mate, and her kits.

She fell asleep with a crooked grin upon her face.