i fooled around and fell in love | birth + return to camp


/y'all im so sorry this is so long, theres a tdlr down below

The early morning was crisp. Leaves snapped in the breeze, the chill of leaf-bare beginning to frost the air. Tempting the light across the treetops, the sun poured silken rays of gold through the branches above. Hunched over a freshly snapped fern frond was a mother. Her calico pelt was ruffled, unusual for the well-kempt molly, and her shoulders slouched with exhaustion.

Teeth pierced through the tough stem, Daisy Flight yanked the makeshift platform along the worn pathway. Every bump and knock to her precious cargo made her wince. A muffled apology was all she could muster, voice flooded with regret. "I know, I know little ones. Your mother hasn't started this off smoothly has she? I'm- hrumf- sorry..." Any squeaking mewls would mash her lids shut, pangs of their discomfort flaying her resolve. But she couldn't leave for help and there were too many to carry.

It had been moonhigh when she left the nursery. Waves of ache, a restlessness that had her paws aflutter. The queen had known what was coming. Making the most of the sleepless state she had fled camp, unable to bear the familiar holly bush, the hushing breath of nearby resting cats. And, well, seeking the help of Dawnglare would be asking for trouble. His not-so-subtle threats of 'ripping her to shreds' wouldn't be beneficial during labour. What did he know anyway? What could the stars have told him about birthing? No, absolutely not.

Straying so far from camp had been a little... short-sighted, however. Daisy Flight had wanted to see the tops of the twoleg nests. Why, the calico wasn't sure. A tie to her past perhaps, to the father of these kits. Raven Ramble... A fool to be sure, but one she had spent many moons with. In the throes of pain, an untempered string of consciousness longed for him. Alone, she had wondered how he might have responded if he had been there in the moment. Annoyance, apathy, concern? The inky tom had always been so good at consoling her, and in her weakness she craved it. But now, lucid and determined, the calico knew this was for the best.

Cleaning off each of her kits, an intimate welcome into the world, had filled her with such adoration. Gaia had warmed her up to motherhood, however there was a thin veil between them still. Her own uncertainty, their unfamiliarity with each other? She vowed to bring down that barrier every chance she got. They were a family now, and a big one at that. A dark slate she-kit, pelt so deep it was almost purple, a pair of red tabby boys, one splashed with white, and a snowy tom brushed with steel. Daisy Flight couldn't wait to introduce them to their older sister.

At long last a passing pine trunk, its bark slashed with claw marks, signified the camp behind her. Still backing up, tail wrapped against her side, the molly pulled herself and the kits into the clearing. The final, desperate wrench was apparently too much for the fern. With a dull snap it gave way and Daisy Flight was flung into the floor. A quiet wail of dismay left her as she noticed one of her kits had rolled off, away from the warmth of their siblings. Almost stumbling the mother dashed forward on stiff limbs, scooping up the sunrise-striped tom. He was already the smallest, and now she had allowed him to take a tumble. Not smoothly indeed, in any sense of the word.

Bundling them back together, she tended to them, tired eyes scanning for any blemishes. Once assured they were all safe, the queen turned to look over camp. With a fruitless groom of her chest, she readied herself for its inhabitants. She'd squirrel them into the nursery in a few moments but as deputy, she needed to be dignified. Head held high, despite the wooziness it brought her, Daisy Flight stood as if she wasn't coated with mud and leaf litter. "They're here!" The announcement was sung, weak and strained.

/tdlr: Daisy gave birth out of camp and pulled her kits back atop a large fern leaf. She stumbles in, exhausted, and has to pick up one of the kits (?kit - penned by ava) after it falls from the leaf. She has just turned to camp and announced their arrival
tagging @Snowkit @GREENKIT@ava @nico for the kitties and @Gaia for sibling meetings

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The sun is beginning to take flight on golden wings, and Blazestar looks up from his sparrow to see a familiar calico shape carefully pulling something by the stem of a thick fern. He stares, perplexed. "Daisyflight? Where were you?"

It takes him a moment to realize, even after she's declared "They're here!", to know what's going on. Then it hits him. The firmness of her stomach is gone, replaced by a softness that will firm as she nurses. The little shapes, they're --

"Your kits!" He exclaims, partially eaten sparrow forgotten. He jumps to his paws and almost skips to the fern, blue eyes wide as twin blue moons as he gazes down at the little bundles. Two squirming red tabbies, a dark she-kit, a blue and white splotched tomkit. Four beautiful, healthy kits -- at least, he hopes so.

He turns over his shoulder, joy ringing in his voice as he calls, "Dawnglare! Come look! Daisyflight had her kits!" He doesn't pause to think about the unpleasant feelings his deputy and his medicine cat currently have for one another; in his excitement, he only thinks he should look at them, that he should check both mother and child over to ensure they're okay.

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It is an awful day for the newly renamed Basilpaw. Before he had been expected to do stuff but now he had a title that implied he had to do things, to be responsible for learning and hunting and fighting. What made it even worse was that Gaia had somehow gotten a free pass to not participate in these events alongside him. It wasn't fair! He wanted to hang out with Dawn all day, curled up in his nest, and brought food and water. Silently, he has been kicking himself all day for not coming up with the idea of being sick first. But how had she done it?

He lifts his head when Daisyflight walks into the camp, he is about to go and ask her how Gaia had fallen ill so that maybe he could do it too when she loudly announces 'they' are here. Who were they? Should he be worried? He blinks in confusion at the multi-colored deputy and watches as Blazestar approaches her. She shifts ever so slightly and he catches sight of them. Kits. The tom cautiously approaches, leaning forward to give them a tentative sniff as he had done to Gaia. "They don't smell weird like the other one did" he informs the leader and their mother. "Where did they come from?" he asks "Are they late?" He is of course thinking of Gaia, why had they not arrived at the same time as the other she-cat? As far as he knew he and his siblings had come to Sky Clan around the same time, or at least he was pretty sure they had. He couldn't remember a time without them, anyways.

"Out having the time of my life it seems," she teased. Truthfully Blazestar's wide-eyed face was a welcome sight. When the young Basilpaw chirped up her exhaustion slowed her wit and it took her a few beats to understand him. "Ha! They came from me Basilpaw. Their Gaia's younger siblings." The laugh was sharp, a drought piercing her throat. Oh, she needed to eat. Sleep would be lovely too.

And so did her kits. Pleased to have made her entrance, the queen turned to the little ones. It was time to tuck them up in the nursery. The first she plucked was the silt-silk she-kit. "She, will be named Violetkit." The dulcet hue of the flowers that could be seen lining the twoleg nests had always been pressed into her mind. It would suit her daughter.

After nestling in the first, she turned to the next. "And you, Snowkit." The tiny tom's frosty flanks were bold, though softened into a grey along his spine- like snow flush to a boulder.

"Figkit next!" The tan-wrapped tom, a solid red tabby. A tail tipped with pale clementine, it made her smile. His frail frame worried her slightly, but she brushed past it with a hurried step.

And last to be fished from the fern's wilted clutch, face painted with chalk, was another son. "Greenkit!" The plush ginger of his tabby fur, woven with white, contrasted with the leafy green of the forest. A colour that was beginning to be her favourite.

Sliding into the holly bush to wrap around the new additions, Daisy Flight let her out-of-sorts head peep from its entrance. She was proud to have brought them home, brought them into the world. One that she could protect with all her might as deputy.
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The journey home had been a grueling one, but the little she-kit had no knowledge of the struggles her mother faced to bring them into this world. She laid atop the fern, soft mewls of protest erupting from a tiny maw with each bump. Every so often, she would try to crawl closer towards the scent of milk, her belly growling for food. Yet each time, she would be placed in the center of the fern once more.

The motion stops. Another complaintive mewl, this time louder. A strong, new scent that she would come to know as SkyClan surrounds her. Others are talking, but her tightly folded ears could not pick up any trace of sound.

Suddenly, the ground disappears. On instinct, she goes limp, quieting down as she's placed somewhere else- somewhere soft. The warmth of her siblings follow quickly after. It's at this moment that she is named; Violetkit. But, she remains unaware. All she knows is that she's hungry.

Finally, finally, the comforting presence of her mother wraps around the bundle of kittens. In an instant, Violetkit begins to suckle, at last content.
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The commotion at the entrance of camp is what finally pulls her from her nest. Blinking amber eyes the woman pushes her way through the crowd of cats to see what all the fuss was about. It's not everyday that something exciting happens anyway and so she finds herself having a measure of intrigue about the whole situation. Pausing she stares at the small bundles that are so lovingly named and a small rare smile touches upon her muzzle, just slightly. It appears before it's gone just as quickly. Her attention is pulled away from the kits and to Daisyflight who is now a mother once again and she gives a small smile. "Well, they are certainly cute little scraps of fur. Good names you gave them too." She chuckles softly before she steps back from the crowd then. After all she's said her piece and she doesn't want to hang around for too long.

Her legs are tired already of standing and she gives one last look at the kits before she turns to go back to her nest.


His arrival into SkyClan isn't the most usual of arrivals.

The squirming scrap of ginger and white is lugged into the clan's camp on a fern leaf beside three others, his mother's voice giving announcement to their arrival. His protesting squeaks throughout the journey are loud, persistent, only to quiet as the fern leaf he travels on slows to a stop.

One by one, the ginger tom feels the warmth of those beside him disappear, as his mother announces their names to the world, to them.

He is the last to have his arrival announced. The last to be removed from the fern leaf. As he joins those he travelled upon the leaf with beside their mother's side to feed, he is given a name:


He is unaware of whether or not such a name matches his appearance, or what green even means. For now, he is content at his mother's side, the kit falling into peaceful slumber after a long journey home.
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At the call of his name, he supposes he has no choice but to show his face. One step, a peer around the corner—

He wasn't sure if he could display any less enthusiasm as he pads over, tail dragging behind him, unimpressed as he narrows his eyes at the returning queen— and in turn, her bounty. One, two, three— arhhghhhhhhhhhhhfhfffffff

Basilpaw is blatantly incorrect, they do in fact, smell weird. A different sort of weird, surely, but unique did not always mean better, is a lesson that he's long since learned. Glacial eyes narrow with something akin to suspicion as the commotion is observed, puny mewling bundles dragged from their makeshift cradle and thusly named by their mother.

Greenkit. Greenkit. Green-kit. Blackened nose draws up in a distasteful expression, before it's dropped into something neutral, accompanied by a sneeze.

He narrows his eyes at this Greenkit pushing his nose forward to sniff at the scrap of tabby fur. This one blinks, slow, accompanied by an odd tilt of his head. scrutiny, observation, his eyes stay locked on this target nonetheless. "This one is your least favorite, then???” he asks, tone pitched towards that of a genuine question.
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Figkit cried... and cried... Pitiful mewls did not seem to stop erupting from their maw as they were carried back to camp with their siblings. The crying was most certainly were not halted when the tabby took their tumble.

Within them, two souls fought. Normally one body would belong to one soul, but not this one... they belonged to two. One soul just born into the world along with her body, another who was many, many moons old. Old memories flood the tiny child's brain, and just as they poured in, they left, giving them one last peak at their former life before he could no longer remember them.

Perhaps that is why the child cried.

As the child's name is announced, their spirits settle. The initial spirit of the body takes a permanent front, and as she is named "Figkit", the body of the child relaxes. She stops her crying as the scent of her mother, litter-mates, and milk soothes her. Despite Gray Wolf having partial share of this body, this was her's to live, not his!


She meows, not in distress, but as a demand to be fed.

Gaia had been quick to notice her adoptive mother's absence as soon as she awoke. After a bout of scuttling about the nursery, worried, confused, she finally settles after one of the other kits mentions that she's probably just gone for a walk. A walk. Right. Yes. Of course. She nestles back into the nest she shares with Daisyflight, trying to calm herself down. As soon as her ruffled pelt lays flat once more, a tired greeting from outside brings her right back to her paws. She's back!

Gaia skitters out of the nursery with great speed before she suddenly slows, caution taking her over as she observes the conversation. With head ducked and ears flat, she stays right where she is, listening. Daisyflight's kits are here. The fear she had been biting down for the last quarter-moon is at an all-time high; will she be nudged away as new lives take priority? Chin pulled down, she peeks up to watch as Daisyflight carries each one into the nursery and places them gingerly into their shared nest. She pokes her head inside to get a closer look, and just the sight of the tiny wriggling creatures fills her with distaste. Will they be the ones to push her out of the nest so they can have Daisyflight all to themselves? She doesn't put it past them.
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