Catkins [Closed Birth Topic]

Birchheart had never had grace or good timing. Aches, pains and stress had driven her to take a walk around the territory, remaining somewhat close to camp just in case she got suddenly tired again. Her emotions had been a wreck and she didn't know why she felt like this. Others gave her an amused look and told her it was thanks to being a queen. She didn't like that answer but oh well. Now she felt sharp pain hit her like a monster. They only grew worse as she grew closer to camp, tumbling in the snow a few times when the pain really got to her. Fumbling, she didn't know whether to go in the medicine cat's den or the nursery. It felt like she needed to go to Moonstone to ward off whatever Dark Forest cat has done this to her. The nursery was closer. Looked closer at least... She hissed loudly and struggled into the nursery, to her nest. "St-starClan why?" The she-cat tried to gently lay in her nest but fell on her side, curling up with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Birchheart? Are you okay?" Swoopnose stepped into the nursery after seeing his mate struggling to get there. If anything happened to her anytime he would be bothered, but especially when she was expecting their kits. Looking at Birchheart, he could immediately tell that she was in pain. Were the kits coming already? What was going on? Now he felt the need to actually do something, or at least offer to do something. "Should I go get Mapleleaf for you?"

"I-i don't know!" She meowed uncertainly. It was a struggle to keep her voice down. Gritting her teeth, she went through another wave of pain. Memories of losing her tail haunting her mind.

~timeskip~

The she-cat lay on her side, struggling to stay awake but still too captivated by the sight of the two little toms at her side. With a soft purr, she lifted her head and licked the tops of their heads affectionately with a bright look in her tired eyes.

"They're perfect," Swoopnose purred once the kitting was finished. The two little toms were adorable, and Birchheart had been able to complete the process without anything going wrong. His green eyes could barely move away from his two sons curled up at his mate's stomach, and the now familiar feeling of hope welled inside of him. There was nothing more magical than being a father. Soon they would be able to walk, and talk, and someday become apprentices. Then the would train and become warriors. He was sure they would be amazing warriors someday. But for now, they were still just newborn kits. Not even named yet. "What should we name them?"

The largest of the pair lifted his head, mewling sheepishly when he heard the voices around him, accompanied by the soft smell of milk. Gingerly, he scurried, limbs flailing helplessly, towards the source of the scent, pressing his wallnut-sized head to the warm belly of Birchheart before suckling hungrily, paws pressed on the pale and soft skin of his mother's underside.

The smaller of the two kits followed his brother and suckled the milk from his mother's belly.

She gave them each a long look and smiled, nosing the larger's head. "Palekit." She meowed with certainty. His soft pelt's. "Why don't you name the other? You are their father." Birchheart meowed, not looking up from the two kits.

"Palekit is perfect," Swoopnose agreed, looking lovingly as Birchheart cared for them. Rather surprised that he had the privilege of naming the smaller one, names flew through his mind. After a few moments, he settled on one. "How about Sparkkit?" There were two reasons he had suggested that. The more obvious one was the small tom's fur color. The more meaningful one was that he was a spark of hope.