TAKE MY BROKEN HANDS // birth

[SOOTSTAR]

It rested a little ways from their makeshift camp, but it was quiet... and peaceful.
Fog had rolled over the hills as the sun awoke from its slumber, peeking out from its earthy blanket. Birdsong could be heard faintly through the breeze, but aside from that, all was quiet on this fine morning.

Until the mews of a newborn pierced the air.
Soot's first child had been born after a long labor, her daughter. She never thought newborns had looked cute at all... but... her? Oh, everything from her little nose to her tiny paws instantly stole her heart. Soot couldn't help but smile from ear to ear after she had pulled away after a vigorous licking session to admire her. She was full of white... but she carried blue smoke through her splotches. Just like mom.

A strong and gorgeous daughter... what more could I have hoped for? Truly, she thought the stars had only gifted her with one kit.
Yet mother and daughter laid together, silently bonding until the peace was once again interrupted come sunhigh. Again, Soot went into labor... and this was far worse than the last!
But she's strong, the queen is a warrior, and after enduring a great deal of pain and more hard work she prevails.

With a son.
He's handsome, that's for sure!
But upon inspecting him she frowns... he's so... quiet... Much smaller than the first kit too. Was he ill? Weak?
No, no... No child of Soot's could possibly be weak. She tries to guide him to the nurse, but he doesn't seem to latch as swiftly as his sister had. Yet any concerns Soot pushes to the back of her mind. He might not be as mighty as she had hoped... but he too had still stolen her heart from the very beginning. She was certain with time he would grow and flourish, perhaps he'd even surpass his sister in size! Soot tells herself the milk will fatten and strengthen him in no time.

It took her a while of staring at them to realize... she needed to give them names!
What an odd thing... to give a name to a cat. Yet here she was in charge of naming two.

"Owl... Owlkit." She looks to her mighty daughter, named after her prized kill in the marshlands. Well... it wasn't actually her kill- more like an accidental find... but that was what young Owlkit was too? An accidental but beautiful find that she welcomed with an open heart. Besides... owls were strong and wise like she hoped her child might be one day.

Then she looks at her small yet handsome son.
"Shrikekit." For her first catch on the moors. For his small size in comparison to his sister. For his fur. In hopes, he'd one day be small yet mighty.

I promise, no matter what, I will never let a soul hurt you. It was her vow to the both of them. For eternity she would love and protect them.

/BIRTH!! @SHRIKEKIT @OWLKIT
also @WEASEL bc dad LMFAO even if they don't know it yet
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[WEASELCLAW]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Weasel is no stranger to kittings. At the barn, kits were as much a fact of life as sheep or horses or chickens. He'd never made it a point to visit a queen after giving birth, nor had he ever played with any of their litters or paid them much attention, but part of that, admittedly, had been the lack of interest in their mothers. Solitary types, as most of the other cats had been, who would snap at any tom who looked at her for more than a moment.

Soot is this type as well, in her own way--but solitary? No. Soot is building a community, a Clan, and she's just given birth to WindClan's first kits. It's a momentous occasion, he thinks. His pride and happiness results only from that, nothing more. Nothing to do with how beautiful Soot looks even after labor, stricken golden with sunlight that had burned off the last of the fog.

He does not presume to get too close. She's his leader, and not the kits' father, so he maintains a respectful distance. But his curiosity has driven him closer than he'd ever been to the kitting queens at the horseplace.

"Congrats." He nods at her, then looks around nervously. The downside to their home is the lack of shelter for the vulnerable, he has to admit. He wonders how safe it is for Soot and her newborns to be out in the open. But if she isn't afraid, why should he? "WindClan's future." A small smile creases his pale muzzle. "I just, um... I just... wanted to make sure you were alright." He flicks an ear. He hopes he doesn't look as anxious as he feels.​

✦ PENNED BY MARQUETTE.​

 

[SHRIKEPAW]

i . information : he is born into this world late − too small, too cold, blood running sluggish beneath the paper - thinness of his skin − taking much after his mother in size and appearance, tufts of blue and white fluffing with each rasping lick his mother makes over his frail body. the child makes not a sound for a moment, his pink nostrils flaring and maw agape as he sucks in his first ragged, gasping breath, sides heaving with the effort. he is here, and he is alive, depite what uncharacteristic weakness lies in his bones. soots muzzle comes to nudge his sloped back and he jerks his alabaster chin, blind eyes squeezing and toes splaying wild against the nest beneath too - soft paws. finally, the little tom would release a squeak − or something adjacent. a hoarse sound, barely audible despite the way he stretches his gummy mouth wide as if to bellow aloud. an attitude without the strength to match . . yet.

windclan's first son is born and nestles into his mother's belly with her guidance, lifting his heavy noggin to push into the warmth he senses there to latch clumsily onto a teet, pushing his forepaws to either side of his little body to keep himself stabilized. he's no idea the legacy lain upon his shoulders, one to protect. uphold. he knows not of the sister at his side, nor the tom gathered, despite the way his nose continues to flare in response to the scents mingling around him. he knows not yet of windclan, their sanctuary among the moors nor his clanmate's fight for it. for now, all he knows is his mother − soft fur, warm milk, a leading hand. he knows protection. tiny paws come to knead at soot's belly, the hooks of his claws like branch thorns ; shrikekit. she'd named him well. satisfied with his milk supply, the child would finally settle, content.

out of character information translations

• − SHRIKEKIT ; he / him, two months old. windclan kit. sootstar x flint.
  − a small, fluffy longhaired blue smoke with low white & pale green eyes.
  − homosexual ; not romanceable until apprenticeship, penned by antlers.
  
  
• none.

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