sensitive topics they sang, they sang .. birth !!

[hazecloud]

// tw for kitten death and implied signs of post-partum depression
// tags for @lichentail @RAVENSONG & @Moonpaw, feel free to post before all 3 have!

Their walk had ended shorter this time as a sense of discomfort had grown and spread across her abdomen with every step. Too cautious to ignore the new, unfamiliar sensation she urged they return to camp at once and the moment her paws made with the cold shoreland she ducked for the nursery while the Deputy fetched for Ravensong.

Despite the frigid air the heat of anxiety prickled from beneath her skin.

”I’ll be alright.” Hazecloud gave her three charges a tense, breathless reassurance. It wasn’t very convincing, the way she heaved for breath in an attempt to calm herself. She didn’t want them to see her if she were to be in pain the way Smokestar had been, how the then-deputy's cries had echoed through camp in the middle of the summer’s night.

”I want Lichentail with me.” Was it expected she would endure this alone? Sure, her medicine cat and his apprentice would be there but, what did that mean in comparison to the molly she anticipated raising these kits with her? Lichentail had already missed so many milestones just from the growth of her pregnancy, she couldn’t let this slip through as well.

–

Somewhere between the beginning to the end a gentle snowfall had begun. Little flurries dotted her silky pelt as a clutch of four were gathered at her belly. Three had been licked and warmed up to comfortably feed but one… one was struggling.

”Come on… wake up little one.” She murmured softly, barely audible above a whisper as she rasped her tongue over pale fur and prodded her nose against the kit's chest. His side, his stomach- anything to make him stir.

Why isn’t it working? Denial that anything could be wrong. Some took longer to sputter and cry and feed, right?

Denial began to wash away as a tense coil of shame took hold. Snaking itself around her throat as she couldn’t find the words to speak again. The heat from the littlest of her brood began to fade quickly and Hazecloud pulled back. Sharply she turned her head away as the flurries began to cling to the still form beside her.

The queen was silent. No anguished cries, no grief-stricken wails, nothing. Above any feeling of despair was the hot, bitter taste of wrath. It wrought its hold on her like a tight squeeze wrapped around her heart and her lungs. Constricting the very air she had prayed would enter the little tom's lungs.

A feather-silk tail flicked to cover the frail kit. Easily mistaken to shield the sight from the cats around her or stars-forbid Smokestars kin but truly, shamefully, Hazecloud couldn’t bear to even look at him. A badge of disgrace for her failure- that must be what it means. StarClans blessing could only reach so many, she should be grateful for the three that remained so strong and healthy but even they could not protect her from the consequences she was warned of. Her surviving kits would not be taken for granted. They would be cherished, soon enough.

”I… I don’t know what to call them.” Her voice was dull, defeated.

Hazecloud looked down and only felt a hollow where her heart should be yet it still pulsed with sharp teeth against her ribs. One was quite noisy, mewling even through a milk-drunk drowsy. Another, rather round, contentedly sleeping curled at the curve of her stomach and the last the quietest of the three but taking strong, deep breaths as it slept beside its littermates.

”I don’t-I don’t think I can. Not right now.” ​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

// cw for kit death descriptions, paternal grief / other related topics

The return had been abrupt… cold-chilled limbs stiffened by something new this time, a rising panic that sat uncomfortably in her belly, accompanied by a chorus of haunting songs that said ‘we aren’t ready’, ‘they aren’t ready’, ‘i’m not ready.’ She was a mother… and it had all been play-pretend until now… even the softest moments she’d had with Shellkit had just been practice. Her dramatic entertaining of Pebblekit’s sour temper a mirror of the molly she might yet be. Every gentle encouragement to Riverkit is just a prepared speech for the real thing. Had she done well enough? Did they feel loved? They were still too young to be able to answer that. There was no telling what kind of adults they would be molded into from her choices, from carefully picked words and downy-gentle touches to guide them.

Hazecloud all but stumbled into the nursery, her normally cheery demeanor dampened by the undeniable pain she was probably experiencing- she was so strong, to bear it in near-silence… and Lichentail did not envy this part. She hadn’t when raw-throated screams from Smokestar had wrung out like an injured calf’s caterwauls for comfort in death. ”Ravensong… Moonpaw,” their names fell from her mouth in quivering tones, just as afraid as she was excited for them to be here. To finally hold them, to see them. How many did they have? Did she have daughters to dote upon? Sons to cherish? Would they be pale replicas of their pointed mother, untouched by the inky fog that would eventually cover their ends? Or take shape as misty morning miasma, like their queen? ”It’s time… The kittens…”

She trailed after their duty-hurried figures, hoping StarClan would guide pale, fresh paws to a successful first experience… that Ravensong would take to Hazecloud with all the gentleness and stubbornness befitting his relationship with her. Her mate manages to ask for her between heaving breaths and she is there… without hesitation… there would be no interruptions today. Not for this. There were three able-minded and bodied lead warriors who could see to patrols- Smokestar would not rip this chance from her, she knew his simmering softness well enough to trust in that. ”I am here,” she whispers in gravel-hoarse tones, doing her best to stay out of the way while still cuddled close.

—

Her neck cranes over the side of a breathless molly, staring at too-still a figure besides the stark contrast of squirming, writhing siblings… It is not right. She knows it to be true despite the way Hazecloud begs for wakefulness, despite the rousing touch of nose, of tongue, of ushered insistence towards milky comfort that should be tantalizing. One of their kittens cry so loudly… tears sting the corners of her eyes to hear his wailing- her sweet, small boy.. Did he know? Was he crying with her?

It was a reality plain and clear to both of them, their eyes both saw the same alabaster child. And as she looked towards Ravensong for any sign of reassurance, that this was normal… that it could be fixed, there is only an apology reflected in spring-verdant eyes. It is a vain hope.. To have sought his face for comfort… but what else was she meant to do?

Honey-sweet voice becomes crystalline in its lost softness, a plumy tail moving to cover their loss as if it might go away, make it unreal. A bad dream maybe… a cruel prank. Somewhere in the back of her mind a venomous voice breathed the murderer’s name, a ragged hissing that echoed with seething hot anger. The star-studded.

”I don’t know what to call them.”

Her breath is a shallow, hollow thing, almost as if she were dying too.

”We… never decided…” It had been a playful argument. Algaekit. Batkit. Rock-kit. Bugkit. They’d hardly put purchase into the plethora they’d considered, both too worried about how important it was to make a decision so quickly. Two months wasn’t enough time… they didn’t have enough time. Her eyes do not move from the feathered fur that tries to shroud a frail-boned memory. He… he couldn’t… go…

”He can’t go… without a name,” hardly more than a mournful sigh in volume, blinking for what felt like the first time in years. ”Please..” Numbly pressing her face into the soft fur under Hazecloud’s chin, she listens for the fluttering heart-beat of her mate, uncertain hers wasn’t shattered into tiny, barely thumping pieces too. ”Hazecloud…”

Don’t shut me out… Don’t leave me here…

---

YOUR MAMA’S CRYING, YOUR MAMA’S CRYING FOR YOU​

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​

 

[HORIZONPAW [transferred]]

It's so quiet, and so loud at the same time. The boy's own cries are all he hears for a moment, as though compelled to take up the song-space that his brother does not. He wails and wails and wails. The warm curve he squirms towards is moon-silent, a great round thing, a down-covered swan with its head stubbornly tucked under a wing. Feathered strands of a tail sting his damp back, licked into an unruly storm by stranger tongues, and the discomfort urges him faster towards his goal.

The teat almost doesn't quite satiate him. Mewls escape him around it, though the demands are unclear in the gurgled stream of it. All around him are similarly dried shapes, massive in their familiarity. Numb kitten-feet scrabble against his siblings for a better hold, blunted toes sliding against tender flanks content and unmoving. Yes, one of them isn't moving. Sounds gather above his folded ears, whispers descending like sheets of gossamer. He calls to them too. Something's wrong, something's wrong. The world is fur of air and fur, and one of his companions doesn't seem to care anymore.​

 

[shellpaw]

lichentail had been coming around more often as of late. helping hazecloud to her paws, middling her out of the nursery and leaving shellkit’s litter in the care of eelkit’s queen. streamheart was nice, but she was so tired, and the girl ended up toddling herself from the nursery and into the banks of snow building up outside. it doesn’t take long before the two blue mollies are pacing back into camp — she spots them and perks bright, scrabbles to her paws to start the wild scamper over when a giant paw scoops her around the middle to stop her in her tracks. shellkit mewls something loud and protesting, but there is a soft ripple of murmurings about the camp, rolling low over her perked ears. something was going on. she couldn’t tell what, but she could tell that there was something.

warriors gather in small groups, eyes drifting towards the nursery ; some were happy. some were worried. some didn’t pay any attention at all, which led shellkit to believe it couldn’t be that bad.

but the warrior holding her back — she pivots her head to huff upwards, sees pikesplash and bites her tongue. that was a warrior, and he would likely not sway to a sharp kit insult. instead, she crumples her face into a watery - eyed frown. he doesn’t sway. so the lilac girl plops down into the snow, petulant, and watches the nursery where all had gone silent. the rest of her litter, evacuated. sugared gaze drifts abut for eelkit, but she doesn’t see him either, and settles in for as long as it would take for pikesplash to let her go. lichentail had gone with her — all she can think about is the warmth of the nap she is missing. sounds emanate from the den, low croons that have her scuttling closer on her stomach, pulled back only once she got too far from the warriors watchful, worried gaze.

it takes a long time. it takes forever, but soon, moonpaw and ravensong are done. there is a strange chatter now, something somber and heavy to hold, but she feels safest with hazecloud — she would shield her from the shroud of darkness falling over camp, the sadness in their medic’s eyes. in the second that pikesplash is murmuring low and concerned with another warrior, she slips up and away, trots with reed thin limbs outstretched and tail ramrod straight towards the nursery. she is close — she can smell something strange, something warm. milk scent and copper. her nose twitches, faltering in thought for just long enough for pikesplash to catch up with her and slam a paw before the entrance. she blinks dumbly, feels her chest stir with something bad, something fluttering. bees flit about in her tummy. nervousness.

she wanted hazecloud, but something was wrong. she can hear them inside, bets they can hear her, but she pauses. just outside the entrance, she doesn’t dare enter ; looking up towards the warrior, shellkit speaks, tremulous and soft, ” is algaekit here? “

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 𓇼 𝙎𝙊 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙎𝙊 𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘿

• i. tagging her babysitter @PIKESPLASH
  
  
• 
  
  
• 
  
  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. TWO MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber ---------- ° ❀ ⋆
  

  currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.

  
  

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[EVENINGPAW]

There's beauty and everything good in existence, arguably the most so when it's just begun, but right now she just decides to scream. Loud kitten yowls fill the air around her and she doesn't even realize the impact of it; her tiny little ears don't get to try and press themselves to her skull because the noise doesn't even register yet. Everything feels too much, and somehow, when the initial shock of it subsides a little, she enjoys it.

Then there's the blissful ignorance. The grim innocence that comes with being unaware that another one, just like yourself, is laying beside you, cold and still. Even if she had the capacity to understand, it wouldn't matter if she wanted to try and give her warmth to another - it's already far too late, before it even really begun.

Her nose twitches and her mouth stays agape. Sensing, listening, trying to understand with the simplicity that comes with being newborn. There are familiar voices, one that sticks out to her amidst everything more than the rest, and she moves- or rather wiggles. Tiny, light fur springs into action and it feels like she is traversing mountains, when she is in fact turning around so she can shove her entire face into safety and comfort. Darker gray fur envelops her still-closed eyes, and it already feels like home.​

( DON'T NEED PERMISSION ! )​

 

[hazecloud]

The nursery, the writhing scraps of fur, the fragile voice of Shellkit- it all sounded lifetimes away. Distant and muted beneath the ringing and buzzing between round ears. Her features have lost the excitement carried sunrise after sunrise since the day she discovered her pregnancy. The delightful shine had dimmed, looking past the three that slept or demanded attention the moment a voice was found. The bubbling anxiety from her exuberance to become a mother this day had fallen flat the moment their final kit had taken his first, and final, breath.

"Is Algaekit here?"

No, that would not work. Algaekit belonged to a strong RiverClanner, one deserving and capable. One that did not struggle to find air only moments after entering their world. Hazecloud's tail twitched away as if the reminder was enough to draw her further away but her gaze cannot be torn from how wrong this picture looked. A frosty little thing in both coat and feeling.

"He can't go... without a name."

She supposed she could not be that cruel of a mother. though. He deserved to have his ancestors welcome his place in the stars, given a name to call and dote on. Perhaps there, among the stars he would be blessed in the warmth of a name said by another. At least until it was decided they meet again.

"Snowflakekit." It's spiteful, she knows. She hates the way her voice trembles when she says it. "So fragile, so temporary..." Hazecloud took a deep, shaky breath and closed her eyes to force a moment of silence within her thoughts.

When they open again her eyes are but glassy emeralds, holding back her tears for fear that her cries would be overheard. For fear that there would be those outside the nursery reveling in their 'I knew this would happen's' and 'We told her's'. Fear that she would be looked at as though she were just as fragile as their lost little tom.

"This is- It hurts. It hurts and it won't go away." Hazecloud felt every as though her muscles has returned to the river as she leaned back against her mate. "I want this to go away..."​

 

[lichenstar]

⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ✧　 　 · 　 ✧ ⋆ ​

* cw; continued discussion of grief, child loss *

First-breath voices sing a solemn chorus around an echoing silence. A fractured tail twitches anxiously for every cry they make- there is a nagging fear they will be cut short as stars-bound sacrifices for a thoughtless mistake. A too-familiar mucus-bubbly voice lingers just outside of barely concealed sedge, prompts them with a name she has heard many times in passing, teasing jokes. And to hear it whispered with such soft, hopeful pitch (these would be her best friends, wouldn't they? Alike sisters and brothers in all but blood?), it wraps her throat in tight coils that do not want to answer- He was. He isn't.

Pressing a berry-pink nose to an open-mouthed sprout, she knows they cannot be neglected by her grief... and pities Hazecloud all the same that she has no escape. Lichentail would leave at the start of each sunrise to have patrols organized... to hunt and expel energy, to have privacy. The unnamed frost-dipped she-kit finds her mother alongside two others... They are fine. Shouldn't that be good enough?

"H-hold on songbird," quivering humming of reassurance to Shellkit, who waits... Can she feel it as if it were her own breath hitched in her throat? Had being so close to StarClan's embrace taught her how to sense their coming presence? It is all she can offer not to lose sight of the other cats that exist in this den, in this camp, in this world when it feels like the world itself has crumbled apart to nonsensical patterns, uncertain futures. "I'll... I'll come get you... to say hi... just a second..." They deserved this to be perfect...

They had earned it. Were owed it.

And they steal from us... star-chosen to travel unknowns for prophecy... aster-blessed to someday affix their name to mine... Bitter, souring thoughts that ring resentment, shout a war cry learned from grief.

"Snowflakekit..."

*The name clings to a spot in her chest that claws and begs to be seen- I am here, he says in ghostly tones they cannot hear. A fleeting thrumming of aching heartbeat pauses once... a heavy understanding muttered in astringent observation. "Just as short-lived," she agrees, "... and still just as special." Tenderly, gently, as if he might melt under her touch, a tear-damp nose presses to cold skin before finding the soft, downy fur under Hazecloud's chin again. It will be okay, seems like the best reply.. but it feels hollow.

"Shhh.... You're okay," not more than a hummed lullaby for silver-smoke tears, "We're okay." Her eyes do not linger on emotional summersault gaze, staring at Ravensong instead... How do you prepare a body that small? Hazecloud is clearly in no mood to have her loss paraded and frankly... a sun-spot eye seems an unwelcome witness to their mistake... their failure.

"I can handle it... Can we just," and she wheezes in contemplation for how to ask, "Move him somewhere quieter.... please." Away from prying eyes, away from familiar smirk-faced jeers that felt like hot fire at her nape. So no one else would have to look... So Hazecloud wouldn't have to...*

---

]YOUR MAMA'S CRYING, YOUR MAMA'S CRYING FOR YOU​

​

 

[RAVENSONG]

This is not the first kitting Ravensong had witnessed. He has seen a pawful now and they have all gone fairly well. He worries particularly for Hazecloud, not only just because of the leafbare environment, but because she is a cat he cares greatly for. With Dovethroat gone, Ravensong feels himself a shell of himself. His paws no longer feel like they are his own and he walks about in a trance. Even after nearly a moon, the wound has not left.

There is a brief moment of joy, if not nervous anticipation, when Lichentail fetches he and Moonpaw. He instructs Moonpaw to bring a stick. This will be her first lesson in kitting. And he steels himself, wills himself not to think any more of anything else. He permits Lichentail to attend them, because he trusts her and he does not believe the deputy would lash out at others during the process.

And for all his careful preparation, both mental and physical, he finds himself staring at the tiny corpse of a kitten who had only tasted life for a brief second--if that! Ravensong feels that same stone-stiffness set in his bones. The ground lurches beneath him as if all of creation is crying out with him, or could it be that it is cursing him? Perhaps if you were not so wrapped up in your misery over another lost cat, you could have saved them.

He has lost before, he had weathered yellowcough and seen many cats die. But a little baby strikes the heart so much more. How can you live in the afterlife, if you barely had any time to live on earth? He feels a shadow well up behind him, mind descending into darkness. For a moment, all he can offer is a look of despair and guilt toward the two grieving parents. His throat feels dry.

"I'm sorry," He manages to whisper. "Lichentail, I--" He shudders, biting his lip. "Moonpaw, fetch mint. Now."

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them" — openly suffers from chronic migraines — single, but "it's complicated"

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[Moonbeam]

Every day Moonpaw was eagerly awaiting the kittens that would soon crowd in the nursery, her ears pricked and anxious paws ready to spring forward into whatever action Ravensong would want of her every time someone came to the medicine den. She knew the dangers of the kittens being born in leafbare, knew that it would be harder for them to get food and keep the nursery properly fed but despite this she couldn't help the excitement that rippled through her at the idea of more kits, more RiverClanners to tell stories to and bring flowers when they were growing once more. When Lichentail came to fetch the duo she was ready, hopping to her feet and nodding her head before fetching the stick and bringing it with her to the nursery.

She moves alongside her mentor, ears pricked as she watches and learns. Paws moved and she fetched anything they needed, helped wherever she was instructed to. It was both something that felt like it lasted a life time and simply seconds and though she had tried to prepare herself for anything she found herself silent as she looked between the two new mothers and her mentor, ears pinning back as the life that was so short-lived was given a name.

Moonpaw, fetch mint. Now.

Quickly she head out and ran to the medicine den, thankful for the short time away from the heavy air that clung to the nursery as she gathered the mint that Ravensong needed. What it was for she couldn't think of in this moment, her only thoughts going to Snowflakekit and her hope that he reached StarClan.

I WISH PLANT LIFE ꕥ WOULD GROW ALL AROUND ME

• 

• MOONPAW formerly Ratpaw || NPC x NPC || sister to Rowanpaw || apprentice to Ravensong.
  -- She/Her || 8 moons old, ages every 17th
  -- smaller than average, small rounded ears. SH white masking cinnamon torbie with orange eyes.
  -- soft-spoken, often found humming, tries to comfort others by smiling

​

 

[Snowflakekit]

cw - death

the muffled noises of the hushing den were nothing more but a ring in the ears of a lastborn kitten. his eyes and ears were clamped shut as he felt the warm bodies of others push against him as they all moved to feed. all except him. briefly, his paws grasped out into the air, but any movement made to knead was short-lived as the kitten quickly fell still. one could see his flank rising and falling if they looked hard enough, if they squinted - but even that, too, would gradually come to a halt.

the ringing gradually stopped, making way for the soft rushing of water, the whistle of wind through starlit trees. the kitten's eyes opened for the first time, expecting to see the soft voice that had urged him to move only moments before - but his innocent blue gaze landed upon a small cat, black and white, who bore a sympathetic, yet welcoming, smile. "welcome home, little one," came the apprentice's voice, who reached forward with a beckoning tail. "snowflakekit."

with an excitable smile, snowflakekit took to his paws and followed his new friend into the meadows, glistening and abundant with cats of ages past.​

 

[TWINKLEPAW]

Dunked into a cold world, the she-kit braves it without complaint. Her tiny body wiggles towards the scent of milk, the warmth of maternity and siblinghood. She had nestled in the womb with three, but now only two others suckled alongside her. A brother, a friend by birthright stolen from her by the cruel mistress of fate. He leaves this plane just as soon as he arrived. Unseen stardust glitters around them as a guardian whisks him away into meadows the rest of the three would not venture until their fur was streaked in gray.

It is Snowflakekit's great sacrifice that allows the three bundles of blue and silver to survive. Ahead of them lay a world to explore, sights to see, cats to meet, and stories to unfold.

Sniffling against the cold, the she-kit places a paw firmly against mother's belly. She drinks and drinks until a veil of exhaustion washes over her. Slumbering with a maw half-open, the kitten finds happiness in this new thing called life.

𓆟 INFO BATTLE

• 
  » Unnamed Kit
  » 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

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