One Kit Left Behind (Closed for Grey)

Willowflight watched his mate carry their kits into the thick forests of Thunderclan territory, fear for her tingling the fur on his pelt. No relief lessened the anxiety that coursed through his system, claws sheathing and unsheathing with frustration at his helplessness. Cherryfang's birth of their 5 kits had happened suddenly and without warning at the worst time possible- while they were visiting each other at Fallen Oak. They couldn't risk getting a medicine cat in fear of the discovery of their relationship and there wasn't any time to fetch one. All Willowflight could do was give Cherryfang a stick to bite and watch her writhe in pain during the course of the kitting. They were lucky she didn't die, let alone just barely be able to carry the kits back to camp.

"Fox-dung," Willowflight swore at himself, head bowing with humiliation at his inability to do anything for her. Any wonder at watching his kits being born had been dampened by the fear for Cherryfang's life. He had never felt so useless.

A small black, white, and orange shape writhed in the snow-covered grass, its whole form quivering from the cold. Small and wet, the she-kit would stand no chance alone. A shrill wail broke from its throat, pitiful and weak. Where did its mother go? Where did its siblings go? Was it completely and utterly alone? Left behind by its mother to die in leaf-bare? How horrible.

Willowflight pulled out of his self-loathing when he heard a loud wail pierce the air of a kit. Cherryfnag didn't accidentally leave a kit behind...did she? He approached the source of the sound with hurried pawsteps, eyes widening when he saw a tiny black, white, and orange kit writhing in the snow. He couldn't let her die out here. The scent of the kit mixed with Cherryfang's hit him quickly. This is his precious daughter for starclan's sake!

Going over to his kit, Willowflight started to lick her fur the wrong way to warm her up like his mother had once did for him. He was a bit rough, but the young warrior was desperate for the kit to live. If she died, he'd never forgive himself.

The wailing cut out as soon as a warm tongue rasped over the kits tiny body, wet fur fluffing out and drying as her fur was stroked the wrong way. But the silence didn't last long, the kit was hungry, bullied by her temporary littermates for the love and comfort of her mother. The unnamed kitten started up wailing once more, paws flailing in an attempt to find something that had that milk-scent her mother had.

OOC: Bump ))

Willowflight knew he had to get his kit out of the cold as soon as possible, very well aware that licking his daughter's fur was only going to get him so far. She didn't stay very quiet for long under his ministrations, probably hungry and exhausted. 'I have no idea how to take care of you,' Willowflight thought at his offspring with irritation at himself and the whole situation. 'How was I supposed this was going to happen?'

As he looked down on his kit frowning at his own inability to help, the warrior also realized she doesn't even have a name. Matter of fact, none of their kits do yet. He and Cherryfang were so worried about being caught that they didn't get to name any of their children. And right now, there still wasn't time to do that- he needed to bring her somewhere safe.

'I swear to Starclan if my clan doesn't give shelter to my kit I'm going to claw all of them,' Willowflight thought as it dawned on him that there really was only one option for where his kit could go- his own clan. He wouldn't be able to tell them that she's his kit, but hopefully his clan wasn't fox-hearted enough to abandon this helpless scrap of fur.

Soon, the small shuddering kit was whisked away, the cold ground disappearing from under her. With an alarmed squeal, the small little kit shuddered and fidgeted but to no avail, way too weak to make a difference in her father's jaws.

---TIME SKIPPAROO-

The kit fell silent, a soggy ragdoll of a kit weakly hanging, her scruff sore and her tail not even touching the snow covered ground. It had fallen dark swiftly and silently, cooling the tempature. The kit wouldn't make it through the night if she recieved no care that involved a warm nest and milk.