Post by Silky on Jan 11, 2010 12:08:43 GMT -5
Troubleseeker was upset. She was pregnant with kits she didn't want in the slightest. She'd told Patchface, and at first, he'd been angry and upset, but he got over it.
Today, Troubleseeker was alone in the nursery. Burningflame had estimated today would be the arrival of her kits. Judging by her size, and comparing it to how big Silktail had been with her last litter, she was in for a few kits.
As the she-cat lay, a contraction rocked her body. She remained silent in her vigil as she pushed the kits out, unwillingly, unlovingly, uncaringly. The first kit came relatively easy. An orange tabby. Troubleseeker reluctantly picked up the kit, and licked it. She wasn't breathing, thank StarClan.
Then came the next kit. Another orange tabby. She picked this one up, and licked it. Again, no movement in the tom's body, thank StarClan. However, her next kit rocked her frame a bit more than the last. It was hard to push, and finally it came out.
A small silver tabby. As soon as it was born it wriggled. Troubleseeker stared at it angrily, and left it to wriggle, trying to find her to suckle.
The last kit came out. A white tabby. No movement, a male. She moved the dead kits unlovingly to one side of her nest. She'd bury them later, and she set her eyes upon the small silver tabby who's mewls sounded so helpless...
Should she kill it here and now?
"Stop it! Stop mewling! You're supposed to be dead!" She shouted at the kit, blinking back tears. He mewled again, his voice searching out for his unloving mother. Troubleseeker stood up, and paced around the den. It was cold. He'd die soon, right? Right?
He mewled again, and this time, it drove Troubleseeker to pick him up. She licked him like she had done with Fogpaw and Silverpaw, feeling guilty she had wished for him to die. At least he didn't look at all like that bastard who was his father. She picked him uop again, and padded to her nest. She lay down, and lay her new son in the curve of her belly.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I hope you forgive me Lightkit." She meowed quietly, nuzzling him gently. She felt so guilty, wishing the poor helpless newborn death. It wasn't his fault Claws was his father...
Today, Troubleseeker was alone in the nursery. Burningflame had estimated today would be the arrival of her kits. Judging by her size, and comparing it to how big Silktail had been with her last litter, she was in for a few kits.
As the she-cat lay, a contraction rocked her body. She remained silent in her vigil as she pushed the kits out, unwillingly, unlovingly, uncaringly. The first kit came relatively easy. An orange tabby. Troubleseeker reluctantly picked up the kit, and licked it. She wasn't breathing, thank StarClan.
Then came the next kit. Another orange tabby. She picked this one up, and licked it. Again, no movement in the tom's body, thank StarClan. However, her next kit rocked her frame a bit more than the last. It was hard to push, and finally it came out.
A small silver tabby. As soon as it was born it wriggled. Troubleseeker stared at it angrily, and left it to wriggle, trying to find her to suckle.
The last kit came out. A white tabby. No movement, a male. She moved the dead kits unlovingly to one side of her nest. She'd bury them later, and she set her eyes upon the small silver tabby who's mewls sounded so helpless...
Should she kill it here and now?
"Stop it! Stop mewling! You're supposed to be dead!" She shouted at the kit, blinking back tears. He mewled again, his voice searching out for his unloving mother. Troubleseeker stood up, and paced around the den. It was cold. He'd die soon, right? Right?
He mewled again, and this time, it drove Troubleseeker to pick him up. She licked him like she had done with Fogpaw and Silverpaw, feeling guilty she had wished for him to die. At least he didn't look at all like that bastard who was his father. She picked him uop again, and padded to her nest. She lay down, and lay her new son in the curve of her belly.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I hope you forgive me Lightkit." She meowed quietly, nuzzling him gently. She felt so guilty, wishing the poor helpless newborn death. It wasn't his fault Claws was his father...