Light in the Darkest of Times

Well there was one thing that Smokefeather was right about. The time Primroselight had spent as a queen was not particularly enjoyable; not only was she bored, but also on-edge from the constant eyes in the shadows. Did they really have to be right there? Always? Anyway, if a rebellion was brewing, the nursery would probably be the last place for it to happen. All that was in here was a few mewling kits and annoyed queens. Having her mother there had helped the warrior a lot, especially when it came to calming nerves and trying to fight boredom.

A weak ray of sun broke through the nursery entrance. Primroselight was asleep, but she wouldn't be for much longer - the sun was still rising when the pains began.

"Smokefeather! Beechface!" She called in panic. Sparrowflight, who also wasn't too far away, clearly heard her calls and came running into the den, the worried and scared look on his face not helping the queen one tiny bit.

"It's ok, Prim, I'm here." He said, cleverly making his voice sound a lot calmer then his true emotions, "Everyone else is coming soon."

Calmed a little by her mate's words, Primroselight managed to breathe a little more, and was able to wait a little longer before her sister arrived.

Beechface had been sorting through herbs when she heard her sister's yowls, and so grabbing some raspberry leaves, chervil and some sticks took little time. There were more than a pawful of queens in the nursery now, so she'd made it a point to stock up on the necessary herbs. Beechface couldn't help feeling somewhat elated; Primroselight was having kits! Her sister deserved that happiness. Of course, she was a bit nervous, too. What if something were to go wrong?

Shoving those thoughts from her mind, Beechface bounded towards the nursery, very nearly, and quite rudely nearly bowling over one of the rogues that wasn't quite quick enough to get out of her way.

"I'm here, Prim." Beechface announced as she ducked inside the nursery, setting the bundle of herbs down.

"Chew on these, but don't eat them." She mewed, setting the bundle of raspberry and chervil in front of the cream-pointed warrior, "Bite down on the sticks, not Sparrowflight's ear, if you need to." She added, throwing a smirk in the tom's direction. Teasing them would hopefully ease their minds, a bit. Smokefeather, who had been sitting next to Primroselight, smirked, tail lightly brushing each of her daughter's flanks.

"I'll get the kits out of your fur, you'll do fine." Smokefeather mewed gently, lightly touching her nose to Primroselight's ear.

---

Beechface lightly rested her cheek against the top of Primroselight's head. Her sister was exhausted, and the last two of the three kits had been... difficult, to say the least. Their nest had been freshly remade and they were clean, but the den was quiet. Of the three, only one moved, squirming towards his mother's belly with small mewls. His fur was a deep brown, and if Beechface had to guess, he'd inherited the trademark fluffy fur that half the family were in possession of.

"Your son is strong and healthy." She said softly. "You need rest... You know where I am if you need me." Picking up the remnants of the sticks, the medicine cat slipped from the den. The sun had set for the night, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in her own nest for the night.

Primroselight wasn't completely sure of what was happening any more, but all she cared about was that she had everyone she needed by her side. But will Bloodstrike ever even meet his grandkits? She couldn't afford to worry about anything other than the kitting though. The pain was more than she had ever experienced, but there was more to come.

After a lot of worry and help from Beechface, three kits lay at Primroselight's belly. But only one breathed. He's a little fighter. And I'll protect him with everything I have. Sparrowflight, who had left at some point, now returned and curled up beside her. "I'm sorry I left... I was just getting in the way." The warrior breathed into her ear, his voice such a mix of emotions that Primroselight had no idea what his expression was. Their kits had been born, yet they only had one living child. "She looks just like you, a-and the other she-kit looks like Smokefeather." He said as he motioned to the unmoving kits, the sadness in his voice now a lot clearer. "And the tom looks a bit like me, just a lot, a lot fluffier." He laughed, but she could tell it was forced just to cheer her up.

"It's alright, you're here now and that's all that matters. Wh-what should we call him?" She rasped, her voice weak from grief and exhaustion. "I want the she-kits to be called Mallowkit and Dustkit... N-not that it really matters anyway." Please look after them Silentwhisper and Dustpaw. They'll need you. Now for the name that would actually be used. "You should name the tom." Primroselight was regaining some strength now, but she knew it would be a while before she would be able to get up from her nest.

Sparrowflight took a moment of hesitation before deciding. "Muddykit."

Well now Primroselight knew why Smokefeather and Blossomstep had both regretted letting the fathers name some of their kits. 

Muddy? Really? She let out a small sigh of disbelief. Ah well, it's not too bad. And we might as well carry on the tradition. "Muddykit it is then." She said. "You're going to do amazing things, my little Muddy."