It's the Most Horrible Time of the Year (OPEN, after kits post)

(OOC: Set 3 days after the birth of Swanmist's litter)
IC: Swanmist's belly wasn't round anymore. Not just because she wasn't eating, but the things next to her, laying next to her belly and paws.

Her kits.

Swanmist didn't want kits, and she felt she didn't exactly love the ones at her stomach now, especially the one that looked like awful Smokeflame. Her mate, Smokeflame came inside the nursery once. To announce that their kits weren't his problem and that he didn't ever love her anyway. The day of the birth. That's why the three kits at her belly weren't named. She was supposed to have four kits. Four healthy kits. But they weren't healthy, they were weak, one had weird paw, the other two were probably really weak. And... one...

It was dead.

She had only named the dead one, after speaking with her father. Yes, speaking. She had to use her mouth just a little, but it will only be for close family. She doubted she would grow close to her kits, but maybe that would change. The kit that died had been pure white, he died a few minutes after birth, his heart just... Stopped. Swanmist and her father named him Breezekit, in memory of her mother and her kit's grandmother, Littlebreeze. Littlebreeze had died too early of sickness, like Breezekit died too early just because of a weak heart... It hurt terribly. Was everything against her in the world?

Gazing down at the sleeping bodies of the three nameless, but alive, kits. She breathed a heavy sigh. "The white and grey one... Flurrykit, like snow, like you, father." She whispered, before looking up at the white tom. The tom smiled back at her. Snowdash, Swanmist's father, and now a grandfather to her kits, was right next to her, to help her out with naming. "May I suggest one for the creamy and grey kit?" Snowdash muttered. Swanmist shrugged, she didn't want to name it, she didn't want to name things that brought her bad memories. "Okay, Pebblekit, like the ones near the river, a river to put out the flame. It also is little reminder about my- and your- long family history." Swanmist looked away as her father went to nuzzle the kit's head. "The grey one is Mintkit." She looked back at her kits, spotting the grey one with fur exactly like her own. "Mintkit sounds nice. It fits her."

The three kits were named. She gave each one a quick lick on their head, but hesitated when she went to lick Pebblekit's head. It's not him. She thought, wincing. Pebblekit will never be him. Finally, she licked Pebblekit and lowered herself onto her side. There was a dead mouse right in front of her. Snowdash had caught it for her to eat. She nibbled a little, but really didn't feel like eating. She just needed to lie down for now.

The grey-furred kit stirred, at the voices; she was named, even she might not know it for a moon. But that wasn’t important, now. The one called Mintkit only knew that she was hungry, and it was chilly, and too many limbs lay on top of hers. She mewled, a soft little cry. She wanted food. Tiny, tiny paws moved — one slightly bent — to paw at her mother’s belly.

A white and grey bundle of fur laid at the paws of the older tom. Stretching out a hindleg, Flurrykit weakly kicked against her littermates. This was the first sign. A sign of who she was soon to become. The pale grey fur around her maw nuzzled around, searching for warmth. Her nose was cold to the touch, and it had bumped into something.

The kit that was given the name Pebblekit let out a cry as loud as his little lungs could manage as his littermate kicked him. He twisted his head and forepaws one way while his back paws twisted the other, wobbling away from one sibling and into the other. He stretched out his paws and kneaded at the air, letting out another loud mewl. It was clear he wanted attention and he was trying with all his tiny might to get it.