- Dec 18, 2022
- 527
- 209
- 43
──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── He had not known what to expect when the time for kitting came. Instinct would guide him partly, he'd thought, but he had not anticipated how greatly he would come to rely on his body's natural understanding of itself. He'd found himself pacing the medicine den and soothing an itch in his skin with fastidious grooming, enacted far more often than ever before. It was not an especially brisk process; it began not long after the sun had fully tipped itself into the sky and continued through its gradual journey, such that Wolfsong could see its dimming glow at the entrance by the time he finally laid down in his nest. He...struggled, knowing that there were clanmates recovering from yellowcough not far from him. The makeshift wall was an illusory comfort, and at one point, Wolfsong bid Cottonpaw to fetch Sunstride.
"Remember," he told her when she returned, "chervil can relieve pain during kitting. It has a sweet aroma with small, white buds offset by large leaves." He intended to make use only of the stick, though did not say as much to Sunstride's fretful face. Wolfsong was certain to smile at him, weary as he already was, his heart a fluttery, winged thing. It had seemed not long ago at all that he dreamed of newleaf in bloom and the wind carrying kitten-voices.
All that is left now is the waiting. Wolfsong pants and tenses through the first kitten's arrival, gritting his teeth and finding Sunstride's paw with his own. He drags the little bundle of fur closer, rasping his tongue over a small body until first breaths are taken, and he presses his nose to a pelt so like his mate's that, inexplicably, tears dew his remaining eye. "Hello, little one," he whispers. Nine sunrises and we will name you, though I think your father will have that honor. He guides him to his belly and meets Sunstride's gaze again, breathless with a chest-aching pride.
It swells with each kit brought into the world. The second has Sunstride's coloring as well, flame-touched and bright, though noticeably smaller than the first and not quite as quiet— and yet not nearly as loud as the third, a girl who seems intent on announcing herself to the stars. He chuckles helplessly, cheek dampened by the continued onslaught of tears. Yes, you are strong, aren't you? Your grandmother's spirit knows you. It is not a time for grief, but the fourth kit, clad in autumnal fur, is similar enough to his mother to dig into old wounds. His tears are joy and sorrow, welcoming his children and mourning the grandmother they will never meet.
The last —and she must be the last, as intuition insists– is similarly burnished as the others, and he laughs again, though it fractures into a hiccuping sob. "They look so much like you," he rasps, licking over their heads and finding his mate's features again, seeing his own awe and beautiful torment reflected back. "I can only hope they at least have my wit." He is tired, his body taxed and aching, and the stick bears deep scars from his teeth, but he has not known a happiness like this.
//please wait for @SUNSTRIDE and at least one of the kits! @Bearkit @rivekit @sunlitkit @FEATHERKIT @SINGEDKIT @cottonpaw
"Remember," he told her when she returned, "chervil can relieve pain during kitting. It has a sweet aroma with small, white buds offset by large leaves." He intended to make use only of the stick, though did not say as much to Sunstride's fretful face. Wolfsong was certain to smile at him, weary as he already was, his heart a fluttery, winged thing. It had seemed not long ago at all that he dreamed of newleaf in bloom and the wind carrying kitten-voices.
All that is left now is the waiting. Wolfsong pants and tenses through the first kitten's arrival, gritting his teeth and finding Sunstride's paw with his own. He drags the little bundle of fur closer, rasping his tongue over a small body until first breaths are taken, and he presses his nose to a pelt so like his mate's that, inexplicably, tears dew his remaining eye. "Hello, little one," he whispers. Nine sunrises and we will name you, though I think your father will have that honor. He guides him to his belly and meets Sunstride's gaze again, breathless with a chest-aching pride.
It swells with each kit brought into the world. The second has Sunstride's coloring as well, flame-touched and bright, though noticeably smaller than the first and not quite as quiet— and yet not nearly as loud as the third, a girl who seems intent on announcing herself to the stars. He chuckles helplessly, cheek dampened by the continued onslaught of tears. Yes, you are strong, aren't you? Your grandmother's spirit knows you. It is not a time for grief, but the fourth kit, clad in autumnal fur, is similar enough to his mother to dig into old wounds. His tears are joy and sorrow, welcoming his children and mourning the grandmother they will never meet.
The last —and she must be the last, as intuition insists– is similarly burnished as the others, and he laughs again, though it fractures into a hiccuping sob. "They look so much like you," he rasps, licking over their heads and finding his mate's features again, seeing his own awe and beautiful torment reflected back. "I can only hope they at least have my wit." He is tired, his body taxed and aching, and the stick bears deep scars from his teeth, but he has not known a happiness like this.
//please wait for @SUNSTRIDE and at least one of the kits! @Bearkit @rivekit @sunlitkit @FEATHERKIT @SINGEDKIT @cottonpaw
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— ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
— ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..." -
— ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
— ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you. -
— ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
— ★★☆☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck. -
— ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
— ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.
