Earn Your Wings {CLOSED BIRTH TOPIC}

Bathed in the foreboding light cast from the blinding blood-red sun, the RiverClan camp stood eerily silent.  The soft white noise of reeds rustling in the wind was much more noticeable without the chatter of many worried cats, the scuff marks left by their hurried paws left abandoned in the sandy clearing outside.  Finchstream's tufted ears swiveled nervously at any small noise, her wide paws tucked underneath her overgrown belly as she gazed around the empty nursery.  The camp was almost deserted; most of the warriors and apprentices were away, while the rest patrolled and guarded their home, prepared for the chance that the clans lost and the Exiles would invade.  The other queens were watching too, leaving her alone.  They said she was too close to giving birth to strain herself, and she didn't fight against their orders to stay inside and rest.  Sleep though was impossible.  She was too worried about the ensuing fight, far away in the Fourtrees clearing where blood had been slipped in her youth.  Nutfur was there, her best friend, risking her life to save the clans from Lichenmask's tyranny...along with Jaystar, and Littlestream, and Scorchclaw and Goldeneye and...so many others.  She didn't want to see their bloodstained bodies...never.

With a long, trembling sigh, the petite she-cat rested her head on the rim of her nest, fluffy cheek brushing against the soft moss and feathers.  Closing her beautiful golden eyes, she felt her kits squirm and wiggle, the sensation deeply comforting.  At least none of her adopted kits were in the fray...or her own children.  Her and Cloudstone's.  The memory, as always, sent a sickening worm of anxiety crawling through her stomach, and she flinched.  He was here in camp too, but she hadn't spoken to him in moons.  She was too ashamed,  too worried that cats would get suspicious.  Now though, in her loneliness, she yearned for his quiet company.  She wanted to share tongues with the tom, to tell him all about their little growing family, to get his advice on name ideas...she wanted him to be her mate, but that could never happen.  She mentally smacked herself; Stop thinking about stuff like that!  You'll only make yourself feel worse...you must look forward.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp jab of pain.

Letting out a little squeak, the she-cat sat up and examined her flank; maybe she had been struck by a thorn?  She knew though, that this pain was internal, not external; and there was more to come.  It came against, but this time it was a deep wave, not just a little poke, and she fearful she-cat stifled a hurt cry.  Oh StarClan no, not now!  This is the worst time...all the medicine cats are gone, and I've never done this before!  The pain came again, and again, and again, growing stronger each time, and soon enough she could not hold back her cries.  Her breath coming in gasps, her eyes frantically dashed around the den, looking in vain for someone to help when she knew that she was all alone.  For a moment between spasms, she made up her mind, and drew breath to call out as loud as she could; halfway through, another wave came, and her sentence ended in a yowl.

"Cloudstone, help!  The kits-aaAAAHHH!"

Nights like these were unbearably quiet, though not unfamiliar to the old tom. He sat halfway out of the elder's den as he thought. Cloudstone couldn't calm himself enough to sleep, knowing a fierce battle raged in the hallowed grounds of Fourtrees. It seemed like every other season someone tried to throw the forest into disarray, when they really should be preparing for Leafbare. His dark eyes moved to the matching sky, narrowing his gaze at the bloody ghost of the moon high above. Those old fools never could get their business dealt with without involving the living in some way or another. This time it was for the sake of "purity" - which was mostly their own fault to begin with - and took it upon themselves to send Lichenmask to lure the Clans to purist ideals and destroy those who dissented. A touch of unease came to him as he remembered the consequences that would come if the clans failed to defend themselves.

Trailing eyes moved to the quiet nursery and an odd look came across his face. Would they attack him and Finchstream if the truth came out? What about their... their kits? He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the word. Conflicting emotions fought for superiority. Terror, regret, longing, and a spot of giddiness. He was going to be a father. A father, of all things! For a moment he wished he'd been born a warrior so he and Finchstream wouldn't have to hide themselves in the shadows, though a part of him knew there was a chance he wouldn't have lived long enough to reach this point even if he had. 'Curse the Medicine Cat code! Curse the cat who decided we could only live a life of servitude to our Clan!' His pale tail lashed in the sudden moment of frustration.

A yowl that he soon registered as his name jolted Cloudstone out of his pondering state. Instinct came first, grab the herbs a kitting queen would need just in case, and be prepared to order the father or an older kit around to help. His paws carried him directly to the nursery however, and he stopped just as he was about to enter. 'I'm both a medicine cat and the father.' He blinked and opened his mouth dumbly before shaking his head, dashing into the medicine den to grab what was necessary before racing back. Unlike other births he'd helped deliver, this would be an entirely different experience, he was more connected to these kits than anyone else knew. The black tom settled down before Finchstream, not beside her as the father should, but he had a job to do. He took a deep breath, gave her a look that expressed as much hope and concern as he could without using words that could give away their elaborate lie, and tried to force himself into a professional mindset. It was more difficult than he could ever imagine.

"Take these poppy seeds for the pain, and bite on the stick if it gets too painful, okay?" His voice was softer than what he used to take on for previous patients, but it wasn't intentional. Watching her carefully, he moved a paw to feel for how many kits they were waiting for. '...Soft.' Thankfully, his fur and the dim lighting hid the heat that came to his face at that strange thought. He counted, frowned, and recounted. "Six," came his voice, even softer than before. Six kittens.

Business! He needed to focus! "Okay, get ready to push."

"Now!'

For a desperately long moment, Finchstream thought that her cry had been in vain, that her mate - and the only cat with medical knowledge in camp - had been too deeply asleep for her voice to pierce his dreams...or maybe even that he had heard, but chose not to come; out of fear of discovery or possibly even hatred for the family they had accidentally built, she didn't know.  After enduring another powerful wave of agony through clenched teeth though, a shadow fell over the den's entrance, and against the crimson sky, she saw the dark form of Cloudstone, his long fluffy white tail the only thing distinguishing him from a mere shadow.  Letting out a deep gasping sigh of relief, the she-cat met his dull amber gaze as her fuzzy face broke into a smile radiating pure affection.  At this moment when all she could feel was excruciating pain, her careful walls of fear and secrecy fell; they were alone, and this was a moment she knew she would cherish for the rest of her life.

"O-okay."  Her voice shook against her will as she followed his gentle instructions, lapping up the small pile of black seeds and grabbing a sturdy stick between her jaws, the odd taste of bark flooding her mouth.  Though she had never witnessed a birth before she trusted his judgment that these remedies would be effective, and prayed to StarClan that it wouldn't involve too much blood.  In her weakened state, she wasn't sure if she would be able to fight her fear the same way she had slowly learned how.  She relaxed slightly at his touch, his diagnosis of six kittens not entirely new to her, but it suddenly became very, very real.  In a matter of minutes, she and Cloudstone would have six perfect kits to love and care for...and then the next contraction came.  Her lungs straining in an effort to keep up with her rapidly beating heart, she obeyed her mate's instruction and pushed as hard as she possibly could.

---

Within a few minutes, it was over.  All that bodily strain, all those nine moons of carrying them and protecting them, Finchstream finally got to lay eyes on her children; they were everything she ever imagined, and so, so much more.  Three toms, three she-cats, an even divide; half of them had her long fur, while the other three had their father's short coat.  Two were silver and white tabbies, one was a brown tabby...and half were black and white bi-colors.  Even upon seeing this fairly alarming sight, Finchstream was too overcome by joy to register the danger and took turns to gently lick each tiny kitten that suckled at her belly, their sweet milky scent flooding her nose and sending her mind ever higher into the clouds.  She couldn't stop purring, and when she looked up at Cloudstone, the she-cat's golden eyes were happier than they had ever been.  "T-thank you Cloudstone, so much...for everything."  With a soft smile, she swept him closer with her tail, and rested her nose on three of the kits one by one.  "Please...will you name the she-cats for me?  I'll name the toms..."  Her mind whirling for ideas, she examined each of her beautiful children.  "The fluffy brown tabby will be Raggedkit...the smallest one with the black and white fur will be Magpiekit, and..."  When she looked at the last unnamed tom, she felt an odd longing seize her heart.  She didn't understand why, it didn't make any sense...but this little one made her think of her first love, dear Ospreypaw.  She remained silent for a long moment, before finally whispering; "...and for this one, with my pelt...Ospreykit."

The old tom looked with wonder upon the six kittens before him, mesmerized and possibly in shock. He listened intensely as Finchstream named half of them, the toms, with such ease. Cloudstone hadn't put much thought into what the names of his kits would be for much of his life; it would never come to pass. Yet now here he was. He gazed upon the quiet, fluffy, silver tabby kit first, gently touching her back with his white tail. "Shrikekit." If anyone stumbled upon this intimate scene now, they'd have little excuse. Yet he didn't think of that in the moment. He did the same to the black and white kitten, though perhaps luckily she didn't share her father's pattern. "Cranekit." Another kitten, this one scrabbling over one of her brothers and mewling instead of laying peacefully, caught his eye. He nudged her off of him and she squeaked some more. "This loud one is Egretkit." Egretkit still refused to keep quiet and let out a few muffled mews as she rolled about, trying to get comfortable in the veritable sea of littermates. A look of absolute bliss crossed Cloudstone's face as the little ones squirmed. Part of him knew, however, that this may be the first and last time he would get to express his love for all of them together

A loud mew, escaped Ospreykit's mouth, upon hearing his name. The tom, scrambled over his siblings, swiping blindly at Egretkit, in his path of miniature destruction. Ospreykit chirruped loudly, before finally settling down in the crook of Finchstream's tail, a tiny paw grasping at her tail.

Raggedkit huffed as he wiggled about, trying to reach maximum comfort. The tom-kit pushed his siblings in his attempt to do so. After a couple of shimmies and a few whiny mewls, Raggedkit found the warmth he was looking for. He snuggled and then began to sleep. He was a rather tired kit.

Though the moment itself was filled with joy, something about one of the kits filled him with dread. Cloudstone lowered his head and nudged little Shrikekit with his nose, alarm building in his chest. He gently pulled her towards him and started licking her fur the wrong way. She wasn't breathing. Though a stillborn kit was common, especially in such a large litter, this was his daughter. Despite being so young and so close to him, he could already feel the heat leaving her frail form. Gently pressing on her chest try to get her breathing again, he soon found it to be a fool's endeavor. "She... Shrikekit's..." The elder could barely speak as he held the lifeless body of his kitten, stolen too quickly from them both. His words held little meaning, but his distraught face was enough to convey what he meant. She was dead. His heart sank and the atmosphere of the nursery turned from one of excitement to one of sorrow.

Cranekit mewled and whined as she felt one of her brothers push her. The little kit snuggled into her mother's fur, wanting to shoo away from her troublesome siblings. She wanted peace and warmth.

Finchstream beamed as names began to roll off of Cloudstone's tongue, nodding her approval at each of them in turn.  They all fit their three beautiful daughters perfectly, and she purred softly as Egretkit let out a flurry of high-pitched squeals, moving her fluffy tail to nudge her silver-and-white tabby daughter into a more comfortable place.  "I love them..."  Her dreamy voice trailed off, as she watched the litter begin to interact with the world.  The she-cat let out a soft laugh at Ospreykit already trying to play with his sister and leaned down to nuzzle him lovingly as she felt his tiny paws curl around her soft tail.  Raggedkit had already fallen asleep, while Cranekit had pushed deeper into her poofy fur, the relaxed kitten seemingly craving an escape from her other rowdy siblings.  One kit though had done nothing, and almost as soon as Finchstream came to this realization Cloudstone had grabbed Shrikekit, and began to lick her fur in an effort to revive her.  Freezing streams of dread had invaded her veins and she watched, helpless to do anything without leaving her other kits cold and exposed.  With every movement of her mate's desperate paws, that terrible sinking feeling grew, until he stopped; and she realized the truth.  "Ohh...my little girl, n..no!"  Golden eyes welling with tears, she leaned forward - possibly dislodging a few kits from her pelt - and pressed her nose against Shrikekit's still chest, fallen teardrops reflecting the red light so that they almost appeared like blood.  "D..did I do s..something wrong?"  Her chocked voice echoed around the empty den as she lifted her face to search Cloudstone's, eyes shining with a horrible feeling of guilt and heartbreak.  "She...she didn't deserve this!"

---

Magpiekit, the smallest of the large litter, squeaked softly as he felt his bigger brothers and sisters crawl over him, their clumsy paws poking his ears and back.  Propelling himself forward, he struck out for the warmth of his mother and had almost reached it when, suddenly, it moved.  Confused and scared, his tiny muzzle opened as he let out a searching cry.  Where...go?!

---

The sudden cry from one of her kits finally broke Finchstream's horrified trance, and she settled back into the warm nest, gathering all of her remaining kits closer with her back paws, quieting Magpiekit as he was wrapped in her comforting embrace.  Her eyes though did not leave her mate's face, searching for answers she didn't want to hear.

Anxiety knotted itself into tight coils within the pits of the tom's stomach. Being forced to stay behind while Sparkpaw and Gold went off to face potential death at the paws of the cat who had supposedly shaken the natural order of things and changed the sky into an unsettling reddish hue. At least the rest of the kits were here, tucked safely away in their nests as the activity of camp began to settle for the night, as it normally did. The loner kept to his usual spot inside the medicine cat's den. Tonight the makeshift den seemed a little colder, unwelcoming, and disturbingly lacking of comfort. A shiver ran down his spine as he wished the medicine cat was here to share her heat. Thinking about it only made him all the more restless. If it weren't for the sprained paw that had confined him to camp, the loner would have likely been pacing as he anxiously awaited her return.

Instead of attempting to walk back and forth outside the apprentice's den, Starlord settled for a seemingly frantic twitching of his tail tip. His head rested on his paws but he moved it seemingly every few seconds unable to find contentment. After what felt like an eternity a scuffling of paws at the entrance of the reed den caused his head to immediately snap up and his eyes focused on the faint outline of a cat that was illuminated by the dull light. There was a disturbance of the herbs and he struggled to his paws as quickly as he was able, prepared to challenge any cat that wasn't Fallowfoot or Gold. After only a second he was able to realize it was neither. But it was a cat he recognized. Goldeneye had told him once that this had been the medicine cat before her. What was his name? His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth before he slowly asked, "Stonedcloud?" In his haste, it appeared the other cat had missed his words before leaving as quickly as he'd come.

Curiosity and concern drove the loner to limp rather unevenly after, favoring his left paw as he attempted to merely gingerly touch it to the ground. Progress was arduous. It seemed to take forever to get to the nursery where the white tail had disappeared into. By the time he made it to the entrance, many events had already taken place. Kits nestled into Finchstream's fur. Starlord could not help a purr that immediately rumbled in his chest at the sight of such precious, newborn kits. Understanding washed over him shortly after. The herbs. And then, recognizing the sadness between the two. Although there was the knowledge that Stonedcloud was Gold's former mentor, something seemed different about this moment, almost sacred in a way that few moments like this truly were. It was honest, real, and it was obvious his entrance was unexpected. The tom glanced back and forth between the pair. A half-smile of understanding flickered across his maw before dying away at the still frame of Shrikekit.

"I can help bury her if you'd like, Finchstream." He finally muttered, taking a half-step forward to touch his nose lightly to the queen's shoulder. Perhaps the offering of removing the poor kit as soon as they'd had time to mourn would allow them to see the miracle of the rest of the moment. This was the she-cat who had helped to raise Gold's kits and she had loved him as wonderfully as he could have ever attempted to do. In a way, Starlord felt like he owed her a great debt. His blue eyes shined as he pulled away and in another breath added, "They are wonderful, aren't they?" Starlord glanced at Stonedcloud out of the corner of his eye, hoping to meet the gaze of the much older tom before he allowed his eyes to trail back over both Finchstream and the kits in a knowing way.

Finchstream's body flinched in shock as the form of another cat appeared, only their silhouette visible against the red sky for a moment before he stepped farther inside to reveal his identity.  "S..Starlord!"  Seeming to shrink into herself, the small she-cat's golden eyes darted between the ginger tabby newcomer and Cloudstone for a moment, before she managed to gather her shaking confidence.  "O-oh...umm...t-thank you, Starlord...I-I would appreciate that."  She sniffed, terrible grief still blatant upon every feature of her round fluffy face, but as she accepted his comforting touch and bent forward to touch her nose to Shrikekit's stiffening body, the faint curls of a smile managed to find their way onto her muzzle.  "T-they're beautiful...thank you."  Pulling back from her stillborn daughter and her mate, the silver tabby warrior fixed her eyes on her remaining five kittens, that immense swell of pure bliss beginning to return.  Shrikekit is in StarClan now...with my parents and Ospreypaw.  They'll take good care of her...and someday, I'll see her again.  I have faith.  Before she fully returned to tending to her litter though, her eyes briefly darted back to Cloudstone.  Their time together had been short, but comforting.  They couldn't be together in the way they both wished...but with these kits, they would forever be bonded by their mutual love for them, and for each other.  She offered him a faint smile, before curling up around her kittens, and closing her eyes.  It had been a long night of many emotions, but now, it was time to rest, and prepare to move forward into this new life...as a mother.