Saplings of the Weeping Willows [CLOSED FOR NOW]

Wincing away the last of her pain, Willowdance glanced down at her newborn kits with large eyes. The four of them laid by her side, giving little kitty mews that made her heart melt. All of them were tall and lanky as compared to her, closer to Sunflower's body build than hers. Beaming, Willowdance gently licked each of the kits and nudged them closer to herself.

The black wriggling body of a tom kit was slow to squirm his way to his mother's belly. Instead, he opted to feel the ground beneath him, and his currently very useless kit legs. Then he opted to feel the air above him, which caused his whiskers to sway. All very new experiences, something that the kit found almost curious. Soon though, he squirmed, wriggled, and rolled his way closer to his mother, finding a comfortable place to rest near her belly. It all felt very peaceful, and the kit vaguely hoped that it would stay that way forever.

Laying next to his yet-to-be-named brother was a scrawny white and brown kit, the first born of this particular litter. In many ways he resembled his father, from his large goofy ears to his skinny rat-like tail; though he of course wasn't aware of that yet. Letting out a wide yawn, he stretched out his tiny white paws and began to knead his mother's warm belly in search of milk. Luckily for him, there wasn't much competition seeing as though there were only four of them, but with his eyes and ears still closed, it was practically a fight for survival already.


~~~~~


For who knows how long, the sound of Willowdance's kitting filled the camp air and Sunflower was beside himself on what to do. Was he supposed to comfort his mate in her time of agony or was he supposed to stay out of the way? The camp soon fell quiet except for the faint sound of kits mewling, and the lanky tom couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing. Was Willowdance alright? Had she lost too much blood? Or maybe a kit had gotten stuck... the possibilities were endless.

Pacing outside of the den with his head low and long tail tucked between his legs, Sunflower's entire body shivered as if it were Leafbare. He was her mate, he needed to go see what was going on. Surely Beechface wouldn't get angry at him for wanting to check in on the cat he loved and mother to his kits, right? But... what if she did... he'd feel horrible... No, he had to check in on Willowdance; he'd just have to deal with the medicine cat's wrath later.

Letting out a deep breath, smooth pelted warrior stopped pacing and peaked his head inside the dimly lit den. Unfortunately for him, it was just bright enough to see... well, everything. Having been a father many moons ago, Sunflower seen newborn kits as well as the remanence of kitting before... but somehow, he'd apparently grown even more squeamish over the years.

Throat tightening up and heart racing at the sight before him, the abnormally tall tom locked his legs and let out a gasp before his eyes rolled back and he toppled over like an old tree, landing on the ground with a 'thump.' Maybe he wasn't ready for parenthood after all...

Next to his brothers, the little runt of the litter wiggled pathetically; it was already a challenge to survive, it seemed, battling with his brothers and sister for the best spot and the most milk. He, like his oldest brother, resembled his father in every sense of the word, with ears much too large for his head, legs much to long for his little body, and little grey spots dotting his white pelt. Ears and eyes shut tight, the little kit had little idea that his father had just made a fool of himself...

Beechface had been sorting herbs with Muddythorn, drilling the dark tabby on what their uses were, when Willowdance yowled. She had been very near to kitting, and it seemed like today would be the day.

"Grab a few sticks, I've got the raspberry leaves and chervil right here." She mewed briskly to Muddythorn, setting off towards the nursery. It would be good experience for the newly-appointed apprentice to learn. What Willowdance saw in Sunflower of all cats that made her want to have kits with him, Beechface truly didn't understand. The thin tom was as tall as she was, and about as useful as a newborn kit.

"Chew these, but don't eat them." She muttered, dropping the bundle of herbs in front of Willowdance before placing a large, unexpectedly gentle paw on the queen's side.

---

Willowdance lay panting, curled around the forms of her kits. Beechface took a step away, nearly tripping over Sunflower in the process. He'd finally worked up the courage to enter the nursery it seemed, as was as much of a waste of space as ever. The medicine cat growled low in her throat with irritation. At least he'd stayed out of her way while Willowdance had been kitting.

"Congratulations, they're all healthy." She mewed to Willowdance, sidestepping her shivering mate. "You know where to find me or Muddythorn if you need us." And with that, the grumpy medicine cat turned away. Two queens (one of which she was trying to ignore the presence of) and over eight kits. The nursery had been empty for a while, and that had changed quickly.

The third born and the only she-kit of the litter had been lucky to have comfortably wedged herself between her brothers, a very pleasant warmth surrounding her tiny frame. Just like the rest, her looks had taken after her father. She appeared to be the calmest of the bunch as she nuzzled into her mother's belly while she drank her fill of milk. She barely moved or made much noise other than the occasional annoyed squeak or wiggle when one of her siblings had bumped into her. All in all, she was enjoying her first moments of life, just like the rest of them.