sensitive topics seeds in a garden | birth/death

[LILYBLOOM.]

Tw: blood, death

Newleaf was a time of change. The world became fresher and greener, and new life often came into the world. RiverClan had already seen one new litter of kits this season, with more due in the coming weeks, and that morning a new litter was making its arrival.

It should have been a joyous moment. A time for the clan and Lilybloom’s family to celebrate new life being brought into the world. Unfortunately, nobody knew what tragedy this day would bring.

A thin, eerie wailing arose from the nursery as it had been for some time now. Lilybloom had been awoken by sharp pains in her stomach, and had sat uncomfortably in her nest, before one of the queens had suggested that perhaps her kits were coming. Sure enough, those small pains had progressed into full convulsions and Lilybloom had her answer. Lakemoon and the medicine cats were sent for and the hope was that the kits would arrive soon after. Although no one said anything, Lilybloom was faintly aware something was wrong with this situation. She had never had kits before but had witnessed a few queens give birth before, namely her mother and sister. She knew there was pain and discomfort but nothing like what she was feeling. And there was certainly not this much blood. Lilybloom tried not to look at it but it was all too present in the corner of her vision. Red and alarming.

The medicine cats fussed over her but her eyes found Lakemoon's in the distance, only faintly listening to the words of the medicine cats. “Lake…Lake, I’m scared,” She mumbled quietly.

Time continued to pass and still Lilybloom continued to labour on, her body rippling with convulsions. By the time the first kit came into the world she was almost spent, barely having enough energy to nudge the tiny form to her body. A small part of Lilybloom hoped that perhaps she was done, that she would only have a single kit like she herself was, but a familiar sensation passing over her told her that was not the case. At least the last of her kits came more easily into the world but poor Lilybloom was too drained to even clean them.

Now that the kits were born, all Lilybloom wanted to do was sleep. She could feel her eyes fighting to stay open, the will to sleep stronger than ever.

Chatter could be heard around her, congratulations on the new arrivals, and gentle coos about how sweet they were. Lilybloom looked at her two kits, taking a brief moment to marvel at how beautiful they were. Both were little bundles of fluff, clearly inheriting Lakemoon's longer fur, than her shorter coat. One was a dark blue tom kit and the other a smaller blue tortoiseshell kit, her pelt bringing to mind that of her mother and sister. Instantly, a name came to mind and she had to speak it into existence. “S-Snowkit,” Lilybloom stammered. She didn't have the energy to touch the tortie, but managed to gesture to them with her head at the very least. “Her name…will be Snowkit.” Green eyes shift to Lakemoon and then their small son. “Do you…want to name…him?”

Lilybloom just barely manages to stay awake to hear the name, smiling contentedly at the choice Lakemoon eventually picks for him. “Good name…strong name,” She says, eyes starting to flutter. “Love…you.”

And then her eyes snap shut. The rise and fall of her chest slows before eventually ceasing altogether. There is one last shudder, one final exhale, and she is gone.

Lilybloom feels herself drifting away, a horrible pain in her chest at the thought of leaving her mate and children, but it is lightened when she sees the spectral figures waiting for her in the distance. Their forms are familiar to her as if they had never left in the first place. She departs with them quietly, reunited with some of her kin, but leaving behind her own little family as she goes.

Forgive me, Lakemoon, Lilybloom thinks sadly, looking at the form of her mate one final time. We'll see each other again one day.

/ @LAKEMOON @GRAYKIT @snowkit @RAVENSONG @Moonpaw

So this is goodbye
It's been an absolute pleasure playing Lily all these years and an absolute pleasure RPing with all of you I will be leaving RiverClan for now but hopefully one day I will be back!
​

 

[Graypaw]

The catalyst for his mothers death, the gray and white kitten sits in a state of limbo, unnamed and unknowing he wriggles closer to his mother, desperate for that once familiar boom-boom of a heart beating loudly in his ears. The very same sound that had spelled out his existence for the past couple of moons now. He is deaf to the world, but he could feel it for a second, he knew he could so why is it so silent now? Blindly he noses tortoiseshell fur and cries out to fill the quiet space.

But there, is that another body next to him? It is the same presence that he had felt in the womb and instictually, he moves closer to his littermates side, gray mingling with diluted tortoiseshell as he clings both to her warmth and the warmth that is quickly leaching out Lilybloom's body. So still, was something that was once alive and breathing meant to be so still? He won't remember this feeling later, when his eyes and ears open and he sees the world for the first time, but the loneliness that carves a hole in his chest and makes a home there will always be a distant reminder of this day.

( ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ) I can feel you leaving

• 
  
  
• 
  GRAYKIT RIVERCLAN KITTEN ; HE / HIM
  LILYBLOOM X LAKEMOON BROTHER TO SNOWKIT
  

  A plush coated kitten with a pelt marbled in varying shades of gray and white. He has dull green eyes and a tall stature. Most of his personality can be described as carefree though some also say that unmotivated is a more than apt term. His trust and love is easily won through praise but he will do little work to receive it.

  ✶ easy in battle + no formal training
  

​

 

[iciclefang]

A scream pierces the quiet night air, and Iciclefang’s eyes snap open, their blue fire searing the darkness of the nursery. The wailing is coming from her sister—it’s thin, despairing, wraithlike, the pain like a heart beating at its core. Icy understanding closes over her; Lilybloom’s kitting has begun. She tucks her nose against the slumbering kits in the nest, hoping that, StarClan permitting, they’d remain asleep through the ordeal. She doesn’t have time to deal with questions. “It’s alright,” she mumbles toward them as she rises. “Aunt Lilybloom’s kits are coming, so sit tight, okay?”

She rushes to her older sister’s nest. Lilybloom’s kitting is already different from her own. The tang of blood in the air is violent, unmistakable, and is there too much? She doesn’t remember feeling this magnitude of pain—her sister’s cries are heart-wrenching, until they grow weaker with the birth of the first kit. “You’re doing just fine,” she murmurs, though her heart begins to thrum behind her ribcage, beating against bones.

Another kit comes. Both are pale, one a soft gray-blue tabby, the other a cream-painted silvery tortoiseshell. Iciclefang wants to take the time to marvel over them, but her sister’s pained whisper to Lakemoon sends a jolt of alarm through her. “Lake, I’m scared.” She has enough breath to name the she-kit. Snowkit. A fitting name, generational, after their own mother. Iciclefang’s breath shakes as she settles beside her sister, opposite Lakemoon. “That’s a beautiful name, Lilybloom,” she says. “They’re beautiful, and so strong. Look at the tom—he’s—hey…”

The fire in her sister’s eyes flickers. There’s a slowing to her movements, to the way her eyelids flutter. Iciclefang’s jaw clenches, fear tightening in her belly. “Moonpaw! Moonpaw, what’s happening? What’s wrong with her? This isn’t…” Normal, this isn’t normal, but her sister’s words become like trickles of water through cracks in ice, meandering and wispy.

“Love… you,” she whispers to her mate a final time, and then her eyes go glassy, the lids slipping to cover the dull green.

Iciclefang’s paws freeze. “Lilybloom, wake up. Wake up! Your kits, they need you. I… we need you,” she says, her voice splintering into a thousand cold shards. She knows what death looks like. She knows her sister will not rise again, that she has gone to join Steepsnout and Mudpelt in StarClan, but damn the stars, why did they have to take her?

The tortoiseshell lets out a single sob, unable to hold it back. The kits—the kits, they’re snuggled into Lilybloom, but she can’t feed them now. Grief blinds her, makes her movements clumsy, but with a single glance to Lakemoon, she makes her intentions clear. “I’ll… I’ll help,” she whispers. She lifts Snowkit into the air by her tiny scruff and places her at her flank. “Feed, little one, before you get too cold,” she murmurs. She gives Lakemoon a beseeching look—a plea. Give me your son, and I will take care of him, too.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 22 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Cicadapaw ; previously mentored n/a
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[LAKEMOON]

LAKEMOON — me and the devil, walking side by side.
Lilybloom’s kitting!
The feeling of someone shaking her is quick to tear Lakemoon from her sleep, the words that urgently spill from her clanmates maw the only thing saving them from a cuff over the ear.
The tabby is on her paws in a blink, the sprint from the warriors den to the nursery and blur.
The air in the nursery is thick, metallic. Her beloveds whines threw a wrench in the warriors gut, they were piercing.
Something was wrong.
As though a guard, Lakemoon stands at the entrance of the nursery, thorny features creased with anticipation as their healer would fuss.
Her heart ached to be closer to Lilybloom, but the worry of overcrowding held the stoic she-cat back, her limbs rigid.
She wouldn’t relax until it was over, until her queens safety was assured.
Lake… Lake, I’m scared.
Something was wrong, and Lakemoon couldn’t stop herself from damming courtesy and stepping to her mates side, azure optics all too aware of the amount of crimson that has begun to stain the ground.
Silver paws are no longer steady, but they reach for Lilybloom anyhow, cradling around her mates jawline.
"Shh… you’re doing amazing, my flower. They’ll be here soon." Her tone is smooth despite her bodily tremor, water poured over bare stone.
When it comes time for her mate to push, Lakemoon reluctantly withdraws, though her presence doesn’t shift more than a whisker-length far.
Her optics are painted ebony in the dim light, and they follow the trail of Lilybloom’s spine, the way her shoulders begin to drag with each of their kits.
Two, there’s two.
Lakemoon curls around her mate, rasping a sandpaper tongue comfortingly over mottled ears.
"You did it, Lilybloom. They’re beautiful." The warriors words are spoken in that honeyed tone that was only for Lilybloom’s ears, but apprehension still tenses at her shoulders.
Her mates weight is heavy against her, melodic voice sluggish and drawled.
Snowkit. Lilybloom names their daughter, and Lakemoon finally forces her optics to the bundles of fur that writhe at the crook of the tortoiseshells belly.
The task of naming their son is placed upon her own shoulders, and the scarred she-cat knows the moment his brilliant gray hue is registered under clouded thoughts.
"Graykit, he will be Graykit." Lakemoon decides.
In the moment she had looked away from her mate to gaze upon their children, she had missed the heartbeat her love had begun to slip away.
Love…you.
"Lilybloom?" Lakemoon croaks as a shudder ripples from the others brindled form.
No. No.
Iciclefang’s outburst sets the silver warriors worst nightmare into stone, and horror begins to sink its icy talons into Lakemoon’s shoulders.
A forepaw rests on her shoulder, but it does not rise, not like it should.
The soil feels as though it has given way from under her body, and she wraps a forelimb over Lilybloom’s shoulder blades, as though if she hung on long enough, it could be enough to bring her beloved back, head resting at the scruff of her neck.
Feed little one, before you get too cold.
The gentle coo of the calico queen nearby draws Lakemoon back to reality- the new reality, and azure pools are lifted to meet frosted, a silent demand making the warriors ears throb.
Iciclefang has taken her daughter from Lilybloom’s body, but the scrap of grey that writhes for the same warmth makes Lakemoon feel sick.
She couldn’t look at them. The agony that ruptured in her chest cavity was crushing.
Against the weight, the willowy she-cat knows what is being asked of her, and silently she fulfills the task that needed to be done.
Delicately, she collected her son’s impossibly small scruff within her jaws, rigidly she sets him down near his littermate, into the care of a queen who was not his mother.
No, she cannot stand the sight of them, the perfection of her and Lilybloom’s devotion to one another.
She cannot stand to be in this den a moment longer.
Her limbs feel as though they are incased in stone as she shoulders out of the nursery.
The tabby doesn’t make it more than a side-ways step from the entrance before she succumbs to the weight within her chest, her stomach and her shoulders. Her haunches hit the ground, but there is no poise in her posture. Muscled shoulders are tense and splayed outwards, her head bowed between them as Lakemoon tried desperately to ground herself, to feel in control of her body once more.
Though, there is no order when her soul is ripping into fragments, nothing tangible to cling on, only the empty space between her forepaws and the sound of Iciclefang and Moonpaws quiet voices within the nursery behind her.

"speech"​

☾ —

•  

​

 

[Moonbeam]

Unease sits within the pit of Moonpaw's stomach, the unknowing if what she was doing was correct or not eating away at her day by day as she quietly watched and waited for something - anything - to go wrong. She was without her mentor but despite this she knew she had to believe in herself, believe in the things that she had been taught, and whether it had been skill or luck thus far she had been managing despite her worries. When someone came to the medicine den to grab her, letting her know that Lilybloom was in the process of giving birth she had quickly grabbed her supplies and rushed over.

Chervil, stick, moss; she offers them to Lilybloom one by one, ears pinning to her head as she sat by the queen's side to help where she could, little alarm bells going off in her head as the labor went on longer than Moonpaw had ever seen it, face plastered with concentration as she tried to think of what was happening and what she could do, the metallic smell of blood filling the air and Moonpaw's eyes widened, brain going through so many scenarios, so much of her training but nothing seemed to click into place, nothing for bleeding at this time in a cat's pregnancy, the cobwebs wrapped around her paws useless so long as more kits were coming, so long as the flow of blood didn't stop.

Snowkit, Graykit.

Names registered in Moon's ears and were as quickly flung from her as she focused her best on her work, the world around her becoming fuzzy as blood continued, as breathing of the queen in front of her stopped, as she spoke her last words before eyes snapped shut and body shuddered before bleeding and breaths stopped. Shakily she was brought back to the nursery surrounding her as Iciclefang frantically spoke her name and Moonpaw looked towards the other, a mix of emotions quick to grace her features as she realized what had happened. "I-I don't..." I don't know, I don't understand, I don't... anything. The sentence could be filled with so much as the apprentice found herself looking back down at Lilybloom once more, head moving towards the kittens as they were moved towards Iciclefang before they land upon Lakemoon and the white moggie could only look at her in pleading apology before the warrior moved from the den.

Her own breath shuddered as Moonpaw tried to compose herself, tried to make sure she was able to think and process and request, mind running quicker than a WindClanner in this moment as she tried to think of what she needed, what Lilybloom needed, what Iciclefang needed.

A STRAWBERRY AVALANCHE ꕥ CRASHED OVER ME

• --
• 
  MEDICINE CAT IN TRAINING;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 11 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently being mentored by ravensong
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[snowkit]

-`♡´- The kitten is born squirming, blind little limbs battling against the newfound cold of the land of the living. He misses the steady thrum that comforted him in the place before, and the warmth that blanketed his small body. She has neither the senses nor the conscientiousness to acknowledge the tragedy that surrounds her arrival, driven only by some vague instinctual insistence that she finds warmth. The bundle of fuzz beside her nudges his way into her pale patched fur, and she, helpless in any other capacity, does the only thing he can.

She mewls. Insistently, and with strong little lungs.

He is lifted away suddenly from the disturbing un-warmth of the nest he was born in and placed somewhere else, and soon enough familiar wiggling scrap of her brother is brought to his rightful place by her side. Despair permeates the room, filling every corner of the dark nursery and leaking outward into the moonlit camp of Riverclan, and perhaps it sinks into her fur, perhaps it will find a home in the marrow of his bones, but Snowkit would be none the wiser. For now, she is content to nestle into the flank she is becoming familiar with and nurse with twitching ears until she falls into the dark and blurry land of sleep.

SUMMER CAME LIKE CINNAMON -`♡´- SO SWEET

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — snowkit, kitten of riverclan!
  — he/him & she/her. OK w gendered terms! 2 moons old!
  — lilybloom x lakemoon. graykit's littermate !
  — a fluffy blue tortie & white kitten w warm brown eyes
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — fullbody by jay , pfp by lovette, funnyguy by pin
  — penned by eezy

​

 

[TWINKLEPAW]

For the whole process, Twinklekit was kept as much out of the way as possible. She was expecting to hear excited meows and congratulating whispers by now, however. Instead cats seemed… startled? …Sad? Lakemoon leaves the den and both Iciclefang and Moonpaw have sorrow lingering in their eyes. As for Lilybloom, she’s quiet and unmoving.

”Mama.” Twinklekit meows as she places her forepaws onto @hazecloud ’s belly, ”Why is Lilybloom so quiet? Is she tired from bringing the kits to RiverClan?” Her whiskers are dragged down by her perplexed facial expression. ”Why are they drinking Iciclefang’s milk…?” She’s never seen this before… this is never how her new den-mates were welcomed into the world.

𓆟 INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Twinklekit
  » RiverClan Kit
  » She/her . AFAB
  » A pretty blue lynx sepia with blue eyes
  » "Speech"․ thoughts ․ attack
  
• 
  » A meager kitten, defeating her is no boastful feat.
  » Excels in hiding, running from danger.
  » Fights defensively to survive.
  » May powerplay minor harm. Can powerplay healing

​

 

[FERNGILL]

There was a distinct rumbling- Ferngill would regret his lack of promptness for the rest of his life.

He'd not been as worried for Lilybloom as he had been for Iciclefang. Hadn't been as attentive. His older sister had a mate to dote over her, had someone to be at her side when she was giving birth, had someone to congratulate her who matterd above all else. Iciclefang hadn't, with her brood; maybe it was that, that meant he didn't enter the den for a little while. Lilybloom had Lakemoon, and she had Iciclefang too, who'd been through the same thing not long ago. What could he have brought?

Ferngill only entered when he saw Lakemoon shouldering out of the nursery, dark eyes squeezed shut, pain hunching her body. "What's wrong?" Ferngill murmured, but the silver molly didn't seem to hear him- or maybe he'd just said it too quietly. No- no, something had happened with the kits, hadn't it? Had- had one of them...

When he finally broke the threshold, Lilybloom was already gone.

Her expression was twisted lightless and lifeless, familial deadness he'd seen not long ago, engraved on his father's strong features. Her soft face, always reassuring- it was too soft, nothing to hold it up. Ferngill choked on his breath, already crying before it had even set in. He'd been crying before he even entered- it had been obvious, something was wrong. Something had happened. And his sister was dead.

Twinklekit's quiet, innocent question was white noise to him- he was blind even to Iciclefang, even to the new kin that nursed at his littermate's belly. All his attention keyholed on Lilybloom, everything else dark and daring, making him look at the corpse of someone who hadn't deserved it, yet again. "Not again," he whimpered, a pathetic thing to say that made him feel like a kitten. But as he laid his muzzle against Lilybloom's shoulder and let another sob out into her mottled fur, he was a kitten again, looking up to his brave warrior of a sister, wanting to be just as big and strong as her.

"Please, wake up..." But he knew she couldn't. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​