MON BÉBÉ && birthing

The pregnancy had been rough on her, in more ways than physical. The realization of having to raise them without their father, in a group with a leader that had her completely locked down to the clan. Being happy had been getting progressively harder and harder, the more she had to fake it to make it. Would she change what had happened if given the chance? Perhaps, but she dare not think about it, her title was given by the stars themselves. She refuses to think about it.

She feels about ready to pop and the contractions had started early in the morning. She retreated to a well sheltered spot of grass, where the tall fronds created a somewhat decent shelter. Her heart beat fast and there was nothing left to do other than to wait for her kits to arrive.

The starting had been more than rough, but her first daughter was out and… Not breathing properly. Immediate panic as her claws unsheathe, letting motherly instincts take over as she licks and licks at the kit. The kit opens their mouth in a tiny squeak, in which nothing came out, and flops against her stomach weakly. "Ma cherie, please, get up." her voice is full of premature tears as she places a paw on the kits back, rubbing the fur backwards in an attempt to shock the kit back to life. "Your siblings, they need you, I need you, please, please, you need to meet Bumble, you need to get up," she meows as tears slip down her cheeks, burying her face in the kit before it coughs, and out comes a chunk of mucus. Honey reels back, surprised, still with tear-stained cheeks as she stares down. The kit opens their mouth and screams. It needs a name, and immediately one comes to mind. "Thunderkit." she breathes out, in awe, but her heart breaks with the fact that she looks so much like Tugger.

The second one comes and this one is much easier as she licks at it, gentle eyes full of love for her two babies. This one looks like her and with all of the love in the world she could muster, she speaks his name. "You’ll be Lemonkit." he was small, tiny compared to Thunder, but he’s her baby all the same and she loves him despite everything. "Mon bébé, so small." is this how Brioche felt when she was born? She feels her mouth sour before she lets it go. Brioche had Fougasse, but Honey? She had herself, and her babies, that was enough.

The next one was quite a shock to her as wails pierced the quiet atmosphere. Her next son looks like her too, albeit a flat face like the last one. Her heart softens as she remembers her duty, the young prophet Marigold and before she knows it shes blurting out a name. "Marigoldkit. You’ll be forever remembered with him," it was a sentiment that almost brought her to tears. Her baby, her baby boy, named after the very cat she failed to protect, oh what irony. She gives an affectionate lick to his head to clear her own.

Another one- Starclan, how many have you blessed her with? The next is a daughter, much like Thunder, with beautifully swirled cinnamon and dark red patches. She was elegant, a beautiful girl and she smiles weakly. She has a bigger head but that makes her no less beautiful, and a mane much like her mamas. "Applekit." part of her wishes that Tugger was here, but she was alone. I’ll give you the best lives, okay? I don’t care what Sootstar says, you’re going to grow up at your own pace my loves.

Holy hell, the last three were a breeze and as the contractions subside, she realizes that was it. Seven beautiful kits, a whole family, her family. She was carrying on her parents legacy, her own children. She’d decide to give each kit their own little spotlight. "Cherrykit," she touches her nose to a daughter, her girl. "Rosekit," the next is another daughter, one that was so beautiful, a gentle ‘rose’ color. A baby of many colors. "And Melonkit." the last one is frail looking, but she does not mind. Perhaps she’d grow in to it. She lets silence fall as she guides them all to nurse once more. Honey feels sleep coming on herself.

She had not been with her kits for more than an hour, but her heart harbors so much love for them, the seven of them. Together they were a family, a beautiful one at that, and Honey vows to let them grow up happy. She loves them. Nothing would get in their way.
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Sootstar had wondered when the medicine cat was due, but she hadn't bothered asking. She had just gone through one herself to know that judging on her belly they'd arrive any day though. She didn't respect Honeytwist as a cat, her medicine cat, or a clan-mate, but she could vaguely respect her as a fellow mother. A mother with no father to raise her children with.

Mews of newborn kittens lead her to where they rest.
The leader gazes upon the new kits of her clan and nods at their -kit names. A sliver of respect was earned by Honeytwist too, a WindClan tradition she was following. The same theme Sootstar had named her own children.

"Beautiful bundles of joy aren't they?" Her tone is neutral, but something in her eyes reveals she is being genuine. "They'll drain the life out of you, but pregnancy has already taught you that. Yet us mothers love the little things anyways." The only thing in this world she loved equally to WindClan were her children. "Congratulations."

Soot dips her head and leaves the new mother to rest.

Pollen hears the shrill mews of newborns; her ears catch their cries. Though not particularly interested in motherhood herself, she'll never forget the perfection in Mallow and Echo's tiny white bodies, their pushed-in noses, ears pinned and eyes sealed to the world around them. A smile creases her muzzle as she pads to find the source.

Her smile fades slightly when she sees Sootstar is the first to congratulate Honeytwist. High praise, perhaps, though even she can tell there is no friendliness in their leader's voice.

Pollen waits for Sootstar to leave before she edges closer to Honeytwist. Bundles of red, gold, and white suckle at her side, seven squirming bodies, all alive. "Congrats, Honey." Her amber eyes gleam with pleasure as she surveys the medicine cat's children. "They're lovely, aren't they? Seven. So many."

It occurs to her that Honeytwist, who had shown up to WindClan pregnant and alone, will be raising all seven of these kits without a father. Just as Sunshine had done. As Sootstar is doing. She sighs. Toms. They've no interest in the hard part of creating new lives.

She gives Honeytwist a soft look. "I helped Sunshine with Mallow and Echo. All of us did. Sometimes the best parent is the community. You aren't alone." She does not elaborate, only flicks the tip of her tail meaningfully. "I'll let you rest."


Jealousy is not a new emotion to Hunts Pheasants.

It burns in her until it burns through her; it burns until Hunts Pheasants can feel the hollow space it has seared into her chest. She considers making herself scarce for the labor, but instead finds herself rooted in place and listening. Hunts Pheasants tells herself she is watching for predators, keeping the new mother and her kittens safe, but she is so terribly distracted in counting every soft breath and murmured, too softly spoken for her own ears word.

Hunts Pheasants startles as she realizes Sootstar has passed her-- walking away from Honeytwist and her brood.

As Pollen approaches, Hunts Pheasants reminds herself she has no place-- no right to be here. She cannot justify it beyond her enormous want, and the hole it has left in her. She has no reason beyond the way her stomach curdles at the knowledge of seven, seven kits and the destructive need to revel in self-pity. She wants, and she wants and she knows she will never have this. She wishes the hole in her heart would finally break through her skin, in the hope that at last it would relieve the pressure.

Quietly, and with a heavy reluctance, Hunts Pheasants pulls herself away, large paws pressing prints into the dirt with every step. She needs to hunt something-- but more importantly, she needs to make something bleed.

windclan warrior | brown tabby tortoiseshell with low white spotting | one blue eye & one white-eye | tags
Ember would never forget the day that Mallow and Echo were born. She'd been hesitant to help at first, claiming that kids aren't her thing. But she wouldn't turn her back on Sunshine, especially not after some deadbeat of a tom impregnated her and then left her to raise their kits alone.

As time passed and her niece and nephew grew, though, she couldn't deny that she'd become attached to the little ones. Giving them badger rides, teaching them how to spar, watching them blossom into adolescents and eventually young adults. Ember sometimes finds herself missing the days where they were still small, but it never lasts too long. The pride always outweighs the nostalgia.

The mewls of kittens is a sound that she hasn't heard in forever. Tattered ears perk, and Ember follows after Pollen. The sweet scent of milk surrounds them as they come to Honeytwist's side, a grin adorning the flame-kissed molly's face at the sight of the newborns. Her brows raise in surprise as she counts; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven kittens! Stars, two had been a pawful. And that had been with the help of four cats! Honeytwist didn't have any family here that Ember knows of, and she didn't have a mate here either. It brings a bitter taste to her mouth. Damn toms.

"You're gonna be busy for the next few moons, huh?" Ember lets out a lighthearted snort, her tail sweeping over the ground. She watches the slimy little things, skinny with ears and eyes glued shut. She'd forgotten how weird they look when they first come out. "They're so ugly they're cute when they're this little!" There is nothing but adoration in her voice, despite her comment.
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Though he is the second of his siblings to be brought into a new world, he is of the smallest. Now free from the crammed confines that were once all he knew - squished between six others in his mother's stomach - the flat-faced scrap of cinnamon and white is given a name: Lemonkit.

He lets out a squeaky cry at the shift between worlds, the shift between overcrowding and a world big enough for him to stretch his legs without hitting someone else a daunting one - one that he isn't even sure he's a fan of - but his cries are nothing in comparison to the ones deriving from the one brought into the moorlands before him, Thunderkit.

It isn't long before he's nestled into his mother's side, warm and safe in the great unknown before him. It isn't long until the emptiness beside him is filled, one by one - Marigoldkit, Applekit, Cherrykit, Rosekit, and Melonkit - until the all too familiar feeling of his siblings beside him returns, until they all make their presence known.

Voices surround him - voices he cannot recognize, voices he knows doesn't belong to his mother, to his siblings. There's more of them, he learns fast, more than the seven of them, and their mother - too many as is, without the presence of more.

Their new home must be so big, to hold so many cats. Lemonkit only hopes he isn't too small for it.
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the young tom kit paced back and forth, waiting and waiting for the right moment to come and sit beside honey. he doesn't wanna wait anymore, however, as every irrational thought and feeling dog-piles him all at once. everything that could go wrong. everything that would go wrong! frowning, he makes his way next to the tired woman, pushing his face against hers, squealing in slight fear.

"oh, stars! why do they look like that! wh-whats with their eyes!? oh no! th-they all can't see! wh- how are- why!?"

he wails out dramatically, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, threatening to break the wells. he was far too young to know that this was completely normal for kits. and honestly, even if he was older, he would have found something else to freak out about anyways. it was his speciality. finding the worst in something, and making it so irrational and making his anxiety skyrocket. how he survived, he didn't know. but it worked for him.