private no use wishing on the water ☘ birth

[edenberry ?!]

Fraying strands knot together and tangle in a tapestry of purpose, intention and mistake. The quilt has holes, awkwardly knitting chains like a novice is at tail end of those needles, working tirelessly to right their wrongs, to adapt and learn through the uncomfortable bumps. They lay languidly on it, watch it become woven around them as time trickles on and makes it harder and harder to undo the tangles. No amount of plucking at the strings can reverse this now.

Dreams of star-dusted nights spent roaming meager tree-lines and alleyways give a sense of blissful comfort, content to live in those memories where things were simpler... enjoyable. Where pale eyes fell upon them with kindness and adoration in stolen glances. Escapades of sun-dappled fur through the tall pines, a willowy gossip in tow. The sound of the trees shifting in warm breeze, sorely missed after so long spent locked behind a window pane.

The illusion is quickly ruined by a sharp pain, one that draws verdant meadows to a open, creased dismay. Had the time already passed so quickly... that it could no longer be recounted as a silly future? No more daydreaming about names and what color their little toes will be, the smell of downy kitten fur. Reality comes crashing down around them and though there is safety here, fear clings desperately to a fluttering bird trapped between their ribs.

So many what ifs rattle around their head that it all feels like a blur- what if I'm not ready?- but kittens would not and could not wait for such a time- what if I'm not good at this?- but no parent was ever handed a guide.

By the time the fog of pain and confusion and doubt disperses, there are two, impossibly small kittens. They are incredibly pale, much like their parents who are littered with the argent shade... Inky marks have adorned the head and spine of one of them as if a reflection of their dam and the other remains plain as untouched snow. What odd luck. Nosing gingerly at their wriggling bodies, an deluge of relief rushes through their limbs as if rejuvenated by the squeals of greedy mouths.

They are every bit as adorable as Butterflytuft's had been, made only sweeter in their relation to Edenberry. "Hi there," they murmur softly, choking on conflicted tears, "It's nice to finally meet you..." They lift their head towards the sound of approaching paws, drawing their lips wide in a cheek-splitting smile, "Spicepaw! Come see," they purr, bobbed tail flicking excitedly against the ground.

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𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 i can still hear you sing

• @arethusakit @Mizzlekit @spicepaw [hi babies...]
• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 15 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back / skinny where previously plump
  -- color #728c69​

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[Mizzlekit]

The world he is born into is cold, not in the sense of it being uncaring but rather the tempreture is controlled from the outside forces such as the warm weather. It is relatively quiet, not that he can hear that difference. It reflects him quite nicely as he is brought into the world without much fanfare, no dramatic cries filling the room.

Quiet broken up mews spill from the tomkit as he is born and gets to experience the tranquillity of Edenberry’s twolegs home. White paws grasp up at air, climbing to achieve something that he is not aware of yet. A bid to reach something grander than himself, or maybe it was just to seek the warmth of his parent. One who's worries were not prevalent to such a young mind, all he knew was that he was wanting their warmth and that he was hungry.

There's another body next to him, his littermate, he squirms against her in his attempt to wriggle towards Edenberry. Wriggling ceases momentarily as the feeling of their nose presses against his tiny body. As if he was an actor waiting for a cue the delayed fanfare begins, a long drawn out protest is given alongside tiny hiccups.

Sucking in too much air as he slowly figures out how to balance breathing amongst his whines of unrest. It's eventually learnt, as he calms down he figures out how to latch onto white fur. Content in this moment to quell his hunger, ears closed to the sound of Edenberry’s voice. Eyes shut, unable to see conflicted tears. In this moment he's happy to be here with them and his sister.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✦ ‎Call me fighter ☾ Call me lover ✦ ‎

• 
  Mobile post disclaimer!
  

• 

• MIZZLEKIT ✦ he/him, kit of twolegplace.
  ✧ A small scrap of white with black markings adorning his head spine and tail.
  ✧ Son of Edenberry and Rumblerain || Brother to Arethusakit
  ✧ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted || underline and tag when attacking
  ✧ speech is #dbcbed
  ✧ penned by Juice || ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

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[arethusakit]

༻✦༺ The she-kit’s arrival into the world is a curious one, with little fanfare, just as her brother’s is. Tucked away in a twoleg’s nest, there are no doting clanmates to crowd around the nursery, pressing into one another’s pelts just to catch a glimpse of new life. There is no medicine cat offering praise and congratulations or a clean bill of health for the two kits. There is no other parent to stare down with hearts in their eyes and a promise to shield their kits from whatever harm could befall their tiny forms, their delicate bones. There is only Edenberry and the feeling of a warm nose against pale fur, the first touch of a new kitten’s life.

For now, she knows nothing of herself, or her sibling, or her parentage. The path laid out before her delicate paws is clear, paved in shining marble. She does not yet know what fate is in store for her, nor does she comprehend that she has one in the first place. The tears shed by a conflicted parent go unnoticed, as do each of Edenberry’s murmured words. The only things in her environment that matter are the gentle touches of a warm, wiggling body at her side and the warmth of a figure much larger than both the kits. Tiny paws, delicate and snow-soft, press into the ground below, finding purchase with kitten-sharp claws as she pulls her way to somewhere. The warmth grows closer and closer, and the black-striped kit moves to it. Her paws knead at something soft, smelling strongly of what the kit instinctively knows she needs. She sets her mouth to Edenberry’s midsection, but comes away unsatisfied. At last, she tosses her head and wails at the top of her lungs, a cry to shake the heavens. Hungry.

kore kore 𓆩✧𓆪 fauna and flora

• ooc: —
• 
• ARETHUSAKIT ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ she/her, kit of twolegplace
  ☆ small white kit with a black dorsal stripe and black toes on her hind paws. bright kit-blue eyes haven’t faded to their natural color yet, and her forelegs haven’t gained their point patterning yet.
  ☆ daughter to edenberry and rumblerain ; sister to mizzlekit
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ☆ penned by foxlore

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[spicepaw]

Spicepaw spent the day in SkyClan, unaware of Edenberry's eventual predicament. Maybe it was for the better - surely her sibling didn't want to be watched, after all. The cinnamon she-cat messes up her assessment purposefully, striking a branch too early and scaring off a bird. Momowhisker seemed upset, but when had he not? His mind was often frazzled, and though when she was younger it echoed in her, now she could manage it well. She mimicked him pitifully, apologizing for her mistakes, promising to do better at the next chance... knowing that she is lying.

She doesn't want to have her name when her sisters aren't there to cheer it. It's a selfish want, but rarely is she ever selfish.

The she-cat anticipates returning home with bad news, yet when she pushes through a partially open window, she hears... crying? And not Edenberry crying, either. The voice is too unused to being used, too small. Two, two sets of innocent, newly minted cries. Her heart leaps as she quickly follows her sibling's voice, peaking into the nesting box to find the other with two freshly whelped kittens by their side.

"Oh, great heavens... Edie!" she cheers, clambering into the box (thankfully her hat had fallen off in her hurry, so it does not bother the kittens at all.) "They're so... tiny. Butterflytuft has a kitten that's just this small now, too, but -" she inhales deeply, trying to steady her own tremoring heart. "Edie, they're so beautiful. Do - do you need anything? Have you eaten? I mean, well, I know you haven't. You've not eaten anything in a day or so. I can find you a mouse? Or a robin? Or -" her voice hitches, and she settles herself again. "What do you need? I'll get it, whatever it is."​

 

[edenberry ?!]

The spring of spritely nutmeg paws across the floor pulls their ears forward in eager relief, watching with a sort of purred amusement as a darkened, velvety hat tumbles to the floor in Spicepaw's haste. Overwhelmed and jitter-nerved, they reach out to press their nose to the chattering molly's cheek, pulling their gaze to follow her eyeline towards too-small creatures. Their insistent whines reminds them of the other many responsibilities to be lined up and tended to, carefully tucking in their hind leg to scoot their wiggling, squealing bodies closer to their belly before they find their peace.

"Aren't they? They're perfect," the pinstripe cat responds, doting on tiny figures whose ears can not hear it. "Don't try to run off so fast," they tease, lifting a paw to swat at Spicepaw's face at her immediate offers to flee and find food. "Stay for a moment..."

They hum a small thought, considering and mulling over the last many weeks of pondering they'd had. They couldn't just be the 'cute babies' could they? "I think... I've got names for them." Tilting their head slightly, they remember so many SkyClanners named in honor of others and grow wary, despite the way they think to grant Spicepaw some small token of appreciation. "For... the little tom... Mizzle. Mizzlekit I guess, huh?" But maybe, in some miniscule way, they can offer some thanks in the shape of their daughter. A name of Twoleg inspiration, just like her dam, just like her aunt, who kept them protected and secret. Something from the garden, though Edenberry wouldn't be able to say what it referred to specifically- just something murmured amongst the plants. "And... Arethusakit... for the little molly."

They wonder if Fantaspring had felt some way similar... comfortable and at ease, but aware of the grisly path that might find them once they'd grown into their teeny paws.

"Everything else.. from here on out, should be easier..."

---

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 〰 i can still hear you sing

• -- edenberry / skyclan daylight warrior / any pronouns / 15 moons
  -- mostly white with black pinstripe and green eyes / scarred face and back / skinny where previously plump
  -- color #728c69​

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