Family Matters [Closed]

The moons had passed by so quickly. Coyotefang stood stiffly next to Sharptooth. At her belly fur were three tiny toms. His stomach turned sickly at the sight and his eyes were glazed over and disinterested. Why did he have to be a father? Every memory the tabby had of what his own father had been like seemed to come back to him. He just barely stopped himself from flinching at the thought of Reno's claws. There was no way he was going to be able to do this; there was no way he could even have the possibility of ruining his kits like Reno did. It was too much to consider that he had the power to change these kits lives in whatever way he deemed fit. That mush caused panic to rise in his chest for the first time. As he thought through it all, the warrior remained expressionless. Wolffang had been just fine on her own. The three would be better off without him.

One of the little tabbies let out a mew and his amber eyes snapped down to stare at it. No. He wouldn't stay. Without saying a word, the warrior turned to leave. This was the only time he would spend with his kits; this one special moment that would keep them pure and innocent. Coyotefang would never be here to ruin them and the toms would be free to live their lives on their own. He hadn't spoken to his mate since the birth and it would not happen now. But, before he could go far, he ran straight into the chest of another cat. Marshpaw.

"Going somewhere?" The dark tabby mewed as he looked down at Coyotefang. "Have you named them?" He questioned, he had heard the commotion but didn't dare to approach until the quiet mewls of kits could be heard out of respect for his friend and his mate. He purred softly, seeing the bleary kits with soft gold eyes that had lost their hardness over the moons he had been in camp. He nudged the other tom gently, as though to guide Coyotefang back to them as his eyes caught one of the kits. He smiled at Sharptooth politely but stayed back even as every inch of him wanted to step forward. He knew it couldn't be. His father was gone... just like all the other cats he once knew.

"That one reminds me of my father, Eagleheart." Marshpaw rumbled calmly, his gaze turned to the kits, then back to Sharptooth. "Congratulations... both of you." He offered, his tail twitched from where it was safely tucked around him. Out of the way and showing all the respect he could in the space that seemed cramped to him, but warm. Safe. Like he was certain his own nursery had been at one point. "I hope they both become fine young warriors like the two of you."

Sharptooth was resting at the back of the nursery, her large green eyes reproachful as Coyotefang turned to leave. It was the tom's fault she was in this mess- a mother, so soon after her own had died. Coyotefang had always been there for her, but he wanted nothing to do with the kits, and all she saw in his eyes when he looked down at his two sons was disinterest, and even a glimmer of fear.
No matter how much Sharptooth wanted to hate her new sons, she knew it was hopeless. They were her own, to keep and to protect. Even as she nosed the two little toms she felt a familiar rush in her heart. She was falling in love with a litter all over again, and, just like last time, she did nothing to stop it.
So, instead of stopping it, Sharptooth closed her eyes and fell.
So why couldn't Coyotefang do the same?
Sharptooth cooed softly as one of her sons mewed, running her nose over his ears before looking up at Marshpaw with a small smile. "No, not yet..." Her sharp eyes, so adept at finding emotion, glimmered knowingly. "Would you like to come say hello?" She mewed softly, her gaze roving from Marshpaw to her mate.

His ears flattened on his head for a split second before he relaxed. The question aggravated him. Yes.
Anywhere but here... However, he just barely kept the words from spilling from his mouth. Marshpaw was different. There was an annoying appeal to the other tabby and something about him that forever nagged at him. Coyotefang's eyes trailed over to the follow the older cat's gaze. He stared right at one of the couple of unnamed kits that squirmed at their mother's fur. Amber eyes narrowed at them while Marshpaw continued to ramble on. The warrior almost filtered out every single word he said, but something caught his attention and caused his head to snap back up.

"What did you say?" Coyotefang's jaw fell as he stared at Marshpaw. There was a bit of a hiss to the tone, but it disappeared under the shock. Eagleheart was the great warrior that Wolffang had talked about forever. What a great warrior of Skyclan he was and how he was able to take down cats with the swipe of one paw. And Eagleheart... was his father? After a moment, he hastily added, "Eagleheart was your father? Are you sure? The legend Eagleheart?" There was definitely disbelief in the words. His gaze went back and forth between his mate and the former Shadowclan cat.

Marshpaw nodded respectfully to Sharptooth. He stepped forward to gently scent and nose the two newest members of thunderclan, a softness in his gaze as he felt a flood of longing for his own kithood. Was he as welcomed as this new litter? No. He pulled back as Coyotefang spoke and turned to him, taking in his dropped jaw with an incredulous expression.
"I don't know about him being a 'legend'." He replied thoughtfully. "but yes... Eagleheart was my father and a skyclan tom. Though my sister, Wolfpaw, always did think so highly of him." He added, remembering the times he and his siblings spent in camp. For a moment, he could almost see Wolfpaw in front of him with how Coyotefang looked. He tilted his head curiously, but held back that thought. He was certain she would have spent her days as a Shadowclan cat... or perhaps a skyclan cat if she ever did leave. Where else would she have gone? He turned back to look at the kits with a smile.

"Of course, it doesn't help that I was gone for so long. I suppose he could have done great things while I was away, but no cat has told me so. I still can't go to a gathering for a while." He added, trying not to let himself feel trapped by the fact. Blizzardstar may have accepted him into the clan, but he still had a long way to go before he could earn the respect of the rest of the clan as well as her trust in him.

OOC: Late and short ;<

IC: The tiny, fluffy kit mewled as he wiggled for warmth in his mother's fur. His throat began to let out soft purrs showing content in his current situation. He snuggled against his brother. He could hear voices around him but could not make out the words. The only thing that mattered was that he was warm.

Sharptooth flinched as Coyotefang stared down at her sons- their sons -with his amber eyes narrowed. Only Marshpaw's presence stopped her from snapping at him. Her mind warned her to keep an eye on the golden-eyed tom as he carefully sniffed each of her kits, but pure, motherly instinct told her that Coyotefang was the one to be wary of, which is why she jumped when his jaw dropped and his actions became so animated. Had Marshpaw said something that shocking? Coyotefang was never so excited about anything. He barely blinked when the kits were born.
But no, they were just talking about some ancient warrior, called Eaglefur or something like that. She let out a small sigh wrapping her tail around her sons and looking them over once again. "Eaglekit... hmm. Perhaps that's what we'll call you." She mewed softly, nosing one of her kits. Her ears twitched as she turned back to the conversation, blinking as Marshpaw mentioned his sister. "Wasn't your mother called Wolffang, dear?" She mewed lightly, her whiskers twitching.

Occ: Sharptooth with the 'put it together you idiots'

Wolfpaw... of Shadowclan? His mind raced and his breathing slowed. It couldn't be, could it? Coyotefang's eyes scanned over Marshpaw's pelt. Their origins were shared through Shadowclan blood, and both had relationships to a 'Wolf'. Looking over the tom who still held his apprentice title, the tabby's eyes widened. The nagging feeling of familiarity was only intensified. His coloring and eyes, so much of it reminded him of the cat who had been his mother. Still slack-jawed, he stood still for a moment. It was nearly impossible. There could not be a connection and yet, there was. After a brief pause, he finally nodded to Sharptooth and breathed, "Yeah... Wolffang of Shadowclan. S-she had a sister, Puddle or Pool something. And she believed Eagleheart was the greatest warrior to have walked the forest. H-he fathered all of you, didn't he?"

The tom pieced things together, straining for memories that were hidden in his kithood. He remembered Eagleheart for sure, but he never thought that he had been Wolffang's father. Although, it made sense. If what Marshpaw said was true, the cat that stood before him was his mother's brother. How had he never heard of him? Perhaps it was due to the fact that when Wolffang spoke of the clans it was always in such a detached way as if she had not been a clan cat herself. Although, there was apparently something special about Puddlepaw that caused the grey tabby she-cat to speak well of her often. It was the only time she ever spoke about their relatives. Life with Reno had been a whole life away from the clans.

"Marshpaw is my kin." He meowed flatly, glancing over at Sharptooth and his kits. Memories of Barkfall and Redstorm were at the forefront of his mind. All of his kin, everyone he had been close to, eventually passed away. What would make this relationship any different? They barely knew each other. It would only fade too. All of the brief sparks of excitement seemed to die out in the warrior. It had been short-lived. With one last glance at his kits, Coyotefang grunted, "His name is Eaglekit. Maybe it will serve to make him great." So many things ran through his mind, none of it he wanted to think of and all of it he wanted to run away from. With that, he finally turned and left.

ooc: Willful ignorance is a powerful thing XD

Marshpaw blinked in surprise. Coyotefang knew Puddlepaw? He watched the other tom closely, his eyes sharp as he caught on to what was suddenly so obvious, yet seemed wrong somehow. How did Wolfp-fang end up in Thunderclan? What had made her uproot from her clan and come here, skyclan would have been one thing but Thunderclan? He breathed in deeply and willed his paws to stay still even as Coyotefang spoke, then left so quickly. His mind caught up in old memories of darker forests and creeping ice-covered marshes. Of a sibling who was so strong and brave, and one who was so kind and quiet. He wished he could have just been there. That the twolegs had just left him alone and let him grow with his family... he would have known sooner. He would have helped her, been there for her and for Coyotefang, who seemed so excited, then overwhelmed by the realisation.

He took a step forward, then paused. He turned and padded a couple steps to Sharptooth. His own blood... these kits shared his blood.
"Do you need anything, water or prey?" He offered softly. His meow betrayed his dazed mind at what had just been revealed, but he needed to make sure his nephew's mate was alright before he went and chased him. That his smallest kin would be safe and secure with everything they could possibly need. Though right now, he knew they only needed Sharptooth and milk. For a moment, he wanted to burst in pride. He had a family... it was right under his nose, his family was still alive, even if it wasn't the way he hoped.

That was something he hadn't dared to dream of the past moon. That there was now something where once there had been nothing. His mind picked over every word though it puzzled at Coyotefang's lack of excitement over his own sons. The other tom didn't seem thrilled that he had a whole new generation now... kits he should be present for, provide for. He looked up towards the nursery entrance in confusion.
"I should go talk to him." He said quietly as he smiled at Sharptooth. "Would it be alright if I visited often?" He asked though he was hesitant to leave at all.

His sides heaved as he breathed in but was met with the chill of leaf-bare, an unwanted feeling of frost made it to his lungs and stayed on his tongue. He scrunched up his face and let out a loud mew that- rather than sounding like a normal kit's mew- sounded more like the screech of a bird.