Circle of Life

Larkflight blinked at the sun, narrowing her eyes against its dazzling brightness. She felt a prick of pain, and averted her eyes from the sun, thinking that had been what caused it. But she felt it again, sharper this time, like a thorn. She staggered onto the nursery floor and glanced around fretfully for Smallbean. "Smallbean? There you are! I'm-" she clenched her teeth as another ripple of pain wove its way through her belly. "Kits. Get Aspenheart." was all she could say through gritted teeth. She had absolutely no clue how to go about a kitting. StarClan, she hadn't even thought they would be coming this early. But they were, and here she was.

Smallbean let out a yawn. It wasn't a particularly busy day in camp, everything seemed quite calm and peaceful, despite the drama and news that had been happening lately. He had been basking in the sun when suddenly his mate, Larkflight, ran up to him, her face twisted with pain. Something was clearly wrong. It didn't take long for him to realize what the problem was, and it took an even shorter amount of time for a sick feeling to creep it's way into his gut. "I-i-i didn't think they'd b-be coming -so soon! I-" He looked around before spotting the medicine cat across camp entering the medicine cat's den. "I'll g-go get Aspenheart!" He made a beeline for the medicine cat's den and poked his head inside. "Aspenheart! Larkflight's kits are coming!" His voice echoed throughout the den before he ran back to his beloved mate. "Aspenheart is on his w-way" He mewed to her. Smallbean had never witnessed a kitting before, but he was sure the kits shouldn't be coming this early. He could on;y hope everything would turn out okay.

Larkflight sank to the ground in a trembling heap. Come on, Smallbean. Aspenheart, please... I need you... She forced herself to wait just a little longer for the medicine cat to come, letting her eyes drift closed. They snapped open again, searching the camp for the two pelts of the toms, but she didn’t see them. Please...

After a moment, the worried tom bolted back to his mate's side. He could tell that her condition was getting worse, but then again, he'd never seen a cat give birth before. The he saw her eyes waver. That probably wasn't good. "S-stay with me, Larkflight!" He encouraged her, desperately trying to keep her from closing her eyes. "Aspenheart!" He called over his shoulder. He quickly looked back to Larkflight. "Everything w-will b-be alright!"

"Hold on!" Aspenheart gasped, his eyes snapping open at sound of panic, not quite registering the cat, the occasion, or the commotion. For all he knew, the Few had returned, they were coming to seek revenge, and battle was eminent. Though he knew this couldn't be true, he still felt the grip of fear on his heart. It had been too soon since the Gathering. It felt impossible that the regime could truly be over. He didn't believe peace had returned to the sky. Soon, it clicked. Smallbean. Larkflight's kits. Uh oh. "Dung, okay, I got it now! Give me a second!"

Aspenheart swept up a myriad of herbal remedies, a stick, and a good deal of courage for what was to come. He wasn't good with kittings, and from the sound of it, it was going to be a pain. He hobbled to the nursery with decent swiftness, for being crippled. "Smallbean, a queen's mate is the most anxiety-ridden creature in the woods," he mumbled through a mouthful of leaves. "Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm sure everything is fine." He pushed the stick towards Larkflight, encouraging her to bite down, and examined the situation with his paws. He kneaded Larkflight's belly and felt for the wiggling kits. "Well, the little bunnies are doing good," he whispered methodically. He shuffled through the pile of herbs and plucked out chervil and raspberry leaves. "You'll want these."

Larkflight blinked her eyes open with an effort and stared at Aspenheart. Finally! He’d taken long enough. Grunting, she leaned down and plucked the two leaves up, hardly noticing the bitter taste. She grunted in pain, starting to breathe harder as the first kitten got closer to her first chance at life. She pawed the stick over and grasped it in her mouth, waiting to get the pain over with.

Aspenheart's apprehension grew as she struggled to give birth to her first kitten. He was uncertain as to whether she could do it on her own. She had been straining for a number of minutes now, and her kit was far from birth. He glanced up at Larkflight, gulping, and considered giving her poppy seeds. The way things were going, if he had to choose between the queen and the kits... he shook his head. He would not put the kits in jeopardy until he was sure he had exhausted all other options. He began gently massaging Larkflight's abdomen, his brow furrowing more with the passing seconds. He watched as the first kitten was brought turbulently into the world and rushed to its aid, lifting it to Larkflight's belly. He swallowed hard.

"I'm doing everything possible, but I don't want to lie to you," he said gently. "I'm worried. Something is wrong. But you can do it. You've done harder things. Your kits are going to be just fine. But I can't help you properly until all of them are out with us. Okay? It'll be over soon."

Larkflight wasn’t quite sure when the pain would be over. But for the kits, it was worth it. Pure joy melted some of the pain in her body, enough for her to nod slightly at Aspenheart and stare at her first kit with eternal happiness.

And then the roaring pain came back, and the stick in her mouth splintered to fragments. The turbulence in her belly skyrocketed, and the words from Aspenheart came back: something is wrong. And although she didn’t want to admit it, she knew what. She wouldn’t make it through this. She relaxed slightly, and white noise filled her ears as she accepted that. At least there was one kit. One kit. Someone for Smallbean to have left, when she was gone.

Death didn’t come quickly. The pain rose to her head, and she slumped down a bit more each second, until one though remained. She managed to get it out, muttering to Aspenheart, “Tell Smallbean,” she muttered, raising her head one last time, “that the kit’s name is Wildkit.” Her eyes glossed over with stars, but she could still see Wildkit. My little flower. I’ll love you even in the stars.

As she died, Larkflight only wished she could’ve done more from the kits who would never be born. Only little Wildkit remained. The survivor.

OOC: i swear i had a few paragraphs drafted for this, but when i came back they weren't there smh)))


Smallbean paced outside the nursery, his anxiousness growing with every moment. He knew it was normal for Queens to feel pain when kitting, but it's hard to believe that the amount of pain that Larkflight felt was natural. Her twisted expression was burned into his mind. What if things turned out to be bad? The kits were coming early, after all. After a few moments his curiosity and nerves got the best of him, and he began trying to listen to what was going on. He couldn't go inside because he'd probably just get in the way, so he had to listen through the nursery walls.

He pressed closer to the nursery walls, trying to listen to what was going on. He heard mutters from Aspenheart and yelps of pain from Larkflight. It seemed like Aspenheart was calm, or perhaps just trying to be quiet. He couldn't help but wonder what he was saying. He heard something crack, then silence. Smallbean didn't think much of it, as there could've simply been a twig inside the nursery, and what during a kitting would cause a cracking sound? The quietness that had come over the nursery brought relief to him, as that probably meant the kitting was over, and that he could go in and see his kits.

Thinking that it was time for him to come inside, he peered in and saw Aspenheart standing in front of Larkflight, and to his side was a little kit. Looking at her, he felt all of his anxieties melt away. there was only one kit, but that was all he needed. She was so... perfect. Absolutely perfect. Aspenheart was right, there was nothing to be worried about. He turned his head to Larkflight, still keeping his gaze on the kit. " What's her name?" He waited a moment. No answer. "L-Larkflight?" He began to worry. He looked over at her, and only then did he notice the blood. His eyes widened, and his heart sank almost as quickly as it had warmed his chest. "L-Larkflight! No! This c-can't b-be!" He nudged her, desperately trying to get a response from her. "You c-can't b-be dead!" Tears rolled down his face as he buried his nose into her neck. He could barely think, everything seemed like a haze, as if a mist had stared to cloud around his brain. All he could feel was sadness, even though he knew he should be happy for his kit. The only cat who truly understood him was gone. He never even got to say goodbye.