Swallowpelt's kits

[Whiskers]

Yeesh, Swallopelt knew how to really disappoint a tom. Shrikewhisker's ears flicked back and he huffed roughly and obnoxiously. Whatever, there would always be other gray kittens that could, one day, wear his name with pride and dignity.

"Fine then. But since you two have named the other kits and I don't see sister number two anywhere--" he was referring to Sootstorm of course, "-- then I definitely get to name this one something. I have plenty of good names though, don't worry 'bout it. Especially for a kit like her."

Shrikewhisker began to ponder on this now, and he pondered quite hard. He knew that Swallowpelt would instantly give up on him if he took too long or even if he came up with a few more unsuitable names. So he would have to impress.

The tom perked up as inspiration hit him like the fierce blow of an enemy cat. "What about..." pause for dramatic effect, hold it for one...two...three heartbeats, "...Willowkit?"

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[Rolo]

No-ears smiled to himself as he made his way towards the nursery, his movements holding a surprising amount of energy. The news had taken a few minutes to reach him, but as soon as he had heard he had sprung to his feet like a young warrior.

Kits! Oh, how the idea of them made him smile! At long last, there was new life in this clan, mewling in the nursery. It was a true sign that this clan had begun to flourish, that it was now bound together truely. These were the first Pineclan-blooded kits to be born here, a new generation completely.

Finally reaching the entrance to the small sheltered area, he paused for a moment before going in. He would not burst in case dear Swallowpelt was resting. However, the sound of a rather... chattery tom reached him and he knew he needn't have worried about disturbing her, it seemed she was awake enough already.

He gently nudged his way into the entrance, letting his entire body push into the den before sitting down. A warm, gentle smile lined his old features, holding a calm enthusiasm but definite respect.

"Good evening, Swallowpelt." He murmered reverentially, his eyes gazing into hers whilst glittering softly, "My greatest congratulations to you."

He dipped his head, his form the image of refinement.

He let his eyes travel downwards to her belly, allowing himself his first look at the kits. His smile widened notably. Seeing the small mounds of fur set an indescribable amount of joy in his heart. It seemed to give him a strange comfort to see the dear young things, and it set a joyful determination in his heart. These kits... he felt as if they were his own lineage, his own flesh and blood. He felt such a protectiveness over them, he vowed to himself that he would do all he could to make a great future for them... in what ever way he could.

"They look like strong healthy kits, Swallowpelt." His eyes were still upon them, "You should be very proud. I am sure they will make mighty warriors one day!"

He said this with not a hint of exaggeration. His words were honest, calm... he truely believed them.

He let his gaze move upwards again, his dreamy state dissolving into a more formal one.

"And what are their names?" He chuckled, "I heard some of your discussion on your little she-cat, here, and I have to admit that she doesn't fit Shrikekit... as lovely as that name is."

He shot Shrikewhisker a smile, laced with good humour.

"But Willowkit is a fine name." His voice returned to it's normal business-like term, "It suits her. She's not unlike the dainty willow trees I've seen overhanging the streams in our territory, she's such a pretty thing."

[glowlynose]

Firefang's ear twitched. A sudden burst of noise had come from the nursery, accompanied by a great deal of high-pitched mewling. Ah, Swallowpelt must have had her kits. Yes... there goes Otterfur now. Ah! and Shrikewhisker, speeding towards the nursery as if being tailed by the very wrath of StarClan. Surely the kits have been born this day. I'd best go pay my respects. The ginger tom hauled himself up and stretched, shaking every one of his paws in turn before heading over to the nursery. He had been grooming himself beforehand, and his pelt gleamed in the small patches of sun that managed to sneak their way through the dense canopy of trees overhead. It made him smile when the warmth hit his fur; no matter where the sun made contact the warmth always managed to spread to the tip of every single hair.

"Hello. I just wanted to come and see the kits, if I may, and wish the parents luck and happiness with their new family. Would that be alright with you all?" A warm smile spread across his features, and he dipped his head in respect to each cat. From the scents he could tell that there were three kits, two toms and one she-kit. What fun times would be had by the parents, with two mischeivous little sons! Of course, each family was different, and Swallowpelt and Otterfur's could turn out to be much like Firefang's own family. For the sake of the kits, he hoped not. Not a day went by that he did not think about his siblings, his sister deceased and his brother's fate a mystery. He still couldn't help the thought that he might have been able to prevent what had happened if only he'd been a bit braver when he was young. All it would have taken was one little fight. He self-consciously started licking his chest, although it was already cleaned thoroughly. He needed to do something while he waited for a response.

[Cloud of Diamonds]

Umph. So many cats talking, and she knew she must respond to them all as politely as she could, even though what she'd really like to do was put her head down next to Otterfur and sleep like a badger. Shrikewhisker first. Wow, he certainly was right about Willowkit. Swallowpelt cast her thirdborn kit a glance. It really did seem to suit her. "Yes, Willowkit is a very good name, Shrikewhisker, thank you. I'm sure Otterfur agrees." She gave the small bi-colored tom a rare warm look from her forest-colored eyes. And now, No-ears. Swallowpelt respected the unusual-looking elder, as she felt he too probably knew what it felt like to feel self-concious from injury and he was almost surely the wisest cat in the Clan. "Good evening to you as well, No-ears, and-" The gray cat yawned widely before continuing. "-thank you. I too am grateful for healthy kits, and strong ones. You might be seeing some of them before long, who knows? Hope you can put up with them. Oh, and we named the toms Crowkit and Elmkit, and Willowkit of course is perfect for my daughter, who will be nice-looking, with luck." And at last she turned to Firefang. At least her answer to him could be a short one. "Oh yes, thank you, Firefang. I certainly hope my kits don't give me too much trouble, and I appreciate that you came by and were so courteous to us." Now, with what needed to be said having been said, she could rest. Swallowpelt laid her head back down, and her eyes shut as she began to try to go back to sleep.

[Crowzerplorodon]

Oh. Boy. Otterfur, for once, felt a tingling of something that could be dread for one of his clanmates as Shrikewhisker bounded in to the nursery. Despite the fact that the two were now related in some odd way, the brown warrior still had hesitations for the gray and white tom. Hesitations, which, as Shrikewhisker began rambling to Swallowpelt, solidified into a ache located in his stomach. The ache grew stronger as Swallowpelt replied to her brother and Otterfur was grateful she shot down the name 'Shrikekit' right away. It was not a fitting name for the small, silvery gray she-cat whatsoever.

His front teeth sank into his lower lip as Shrikewhisker kept them hanging, blood pooling around the small puncture marks right as the warrior gave another suggestion. This time, however, Otterfur wasn't so against the name. In fact, Willowkit sounded perfect for the she-kit. He moved to speak his agreement but was stopped by the sound of another cat entering the nursery. Hearing No-ears speak so fondly about the kits and give his own agreement about Willowkit lifted a slight burden Otterfur had begun to feel. It seemed the she-kit had a set name now. No worries about debating for ages over a name.

”H-Hey, Firefang,” he greeted, glad to see a cat he could actually hold a conversation with. Both No-ears and Shrikewhisker held qualities that made him averse to speaking with them. It was… well, awkward. ”Thanks for visiting,” and for the luck. But that last bit went unspoken as Swallowpelt seemed to fall asleep. Otterfur took that as a signal that cats needed to leave, and, with the most polite look he could muster, the warrior urged the others out, getting up slowly to follow them.

[Cloud of Diamonds]

OoC: This is about..three days later. Because I feel like making it so. >>

The sun was high in the robin's egg-blue sky as PineClan's solitary queen finished gulping down a sparrow she'd been brought a little while ago by Harepaw. Spitting a feather out of her mouth, the large dark-pelted she-cat licked her lips and her whiskers twitched slightly. She sighed in recognition of the fact that she could move now, thank all that was good in the world. Kits were sweet-looking, sure, but no cat had ever mentioned how much they needed to eat, or drink, in the beginning of their lives. Greedy little things, the scarred mother thought as she shifted position slightly, trying not to disturb her slumbering children, who were all in a heap at the edge of the nest. But she loved them all the same, of course. She couldn't help taking joy at the sight of her sons and daughter, even though most of what she thought of now was how much work they would be, though it would be better since she was in a Clan. Ugh, she couldn't imagine how queens outside of Clans coped. Swallowpelt would be permanently grumpy (even more than usual) if she didn't have an apprentice coming by every day to clean out the bedding and bring her food, or if she didn't have a nice, safe den to be in while she nursed the kits. Elmkit squirmed in his sleep, causing his littermates to open their mouths in a silent protest before they settled down again. The muscular PineClanner carefully moved herself so that she could lick them, her tongue rasping gently against their small bodies. She then settled back into the position that was best for them to nurse, thinking that they would probably wake up soon.

[Whiskers]

”So Badgerpaw is taken care of then? When will the last patrol be back—when they get back, I want a full report, and remember to keep an extra patrol on Fogclan borders just I case,” Gingerstar dismissed the warrior with the flick of her tail after her orders had been given, and with that final sweeping gesture, she was free.

She had nothing to do. She could relax.

Ha right. I bet as soon as I make for the nursery, I’ll be bombarded with questions from one apprentice or another, she purred to herself and her put-on grumpyness. The truth was that she loved being needed like this. Gingerstar would stay up all night and work herself until she felt the very ache in her bones if she could. But, for some reason, Bluestream had advised her against that.

Gingerstar though would take a moment to go see the new kits, since she had promised herself to do so three days ago. Kits weren’t her specialty of course…part of her was dreading it but as a leader, she needed to show her support for Swallowpelt. This was the poor she-cat’s first litter. Plus this was an opportunity for observing the would-be warriors of Pineclan. So it was necessary.

She crossed the camp clearing, for once actually ignoring the voices that greeted her or tried to get her attention, only acknowledging them with a swift glance that left him questioning their actions. Approaching the nursery, Gingerstar winced as she thought (because she could be making the noise up out of fear) she heard the sound of woeful mewling. Kits were so annoying--she meant…cute. Kits were very, very…cute.

Not a good idea to insult the furballs first off. Stick to smiling, Gingerstar. Smiling works. Just…pretend you’re talking to Cedarstar. You do that once a month and it doesn’t kill you.

”Swallowpelt? I’ve come to pay the little ones a visit,” she meowed quietly in a sugary sweet tone that she put on just for the kits today. Her golden eyes found the squirming kits suckling on Swallowpelt’s stomach and her heart gave a lurch while her stomach flipped upside down. An empty hollow feeling was encroaching upon her gut and honestly, Gingerstar didn’t know why. She was not one to get queasy at the sight of kits. Back in Forestclan, when she was a warrior, she had thought then a little noisy but she recognized their charm (however hard it was to find).

What had changed from then, to now?

No matter, no matter, it couldn’t be helped at the moment. She would deal with it later. Gingerstar’s smile came back on, warming the room again as she kept her eyes off the kits. ”They’re adorable, Swallowpelt. One looks just like Otterfur, and I predict he’ll be a great warrior one day. How are they doing?”

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[Cloud of Diamonds]

Swallowpelt's head jerked up as she heard a cat coming into the nursery. Really, now? She thought. But wait...was that Gingerstar? Indeed it was. Another cat she absolutely must be polite to, though she generally would've wanted to anyway because she did admire her leader. Honestly, though, how many congratulations did she need? Whoo, she had kits. Whoop-de-flying-hedgehogs-do. Now, could cats just leave her in peace to take care of them? Swallowpelt listened to her leader's words, nodding somewhat absentmindedly but still processing the what the orange she-cat was saying. Of course Gingerstar had come to pay the kits a visit. They would be the first Clanborn PineClanners, after all, she realized. The muscular queen couldn't help but feel a small glow of pride at this thought. Speaking of PineClan...um...now what to say back.

Grunting slightly, she meowed,"I can see. I appreciate that you came to visit me and my children, though I'm sure it's not very exciting. They themselves aren't very exciting right now, though I suppose I shouldn't complain. Who knows when they'll start mewling?" She noticed Gingerstar's smile disappeared for a moment before coming back. Personally Swallowpelt found the way the PineClan leader was smiling so much a bit odd, but maybe that was because the gray queen didn't do it that often. Oh well, it probably didn't matter.

She heard the she-cat's next words. Well, that was easy enough to respond to. "Um, yeah, I guess they're cute." Slick, she thought. You're their mother, you're supposed to adore them! Maybe, but I'm no stereotypical queen. The green-eyed PineClanner looked at her firstborn son. He did look a bit like his father, though his fur was lighter. But the resemblance was definitely there. "Mmm, he does look like his father." She agreed. "And thank you, if you think he will become a great warrior, he most likely will." This wasn't flattery, or mostly not; for Swallowpelt wasn't really good at that. No, she trusted her leader's judgment and could see for herself that though Elmkit wasn't the biggest, but he had broad shoulders for a kit his age and most likely the beginnings of muscular limbs.

"And they're all doing well, Bluestream told me they were all healthy and they haven't given me any trouble so far, though it's hardly late enough to tell that yet, eh?" Swallowpelt almost chuckled quietly, but in the presence of Gingerstar that was most likely not the greatest idea.

[Whiskers]

Gingerstar decided she liked Swallowpelt. She liked her a lot actually. She was everything Gingerstar looked for in her warriors; strong, hard to break, focused and logical. She wasn’t like other queens who cooed over their kits and talked non stop about each and every movement that their little precious bundles of absolute joy made. No, she didn’t really seemed to care. It was…strange but a welcome change to what the leader was expecting. The last thing Gingerstar needed was Swallowpelt to go on and on about the litter.

Swallowpelt even reminded Gingerstar of herself, in the slightest. Yes… why hadn’t she seen the gray she-cat’s potential before? If only she wasn’t going to be stuck in the nursery for six long moons, or Gingerstar would let Swallowpelt lead a patrol at this moment. This is one of the many reasons why Gingerstar thought kits a hassle to deal with. They took wonderful warriors out of commission for a while, and she was stuck with their rash and brawny mates.

”True. But if you take care of them correctly they shouldn’t fall prey to any strange sicknesses lurking about,” Gingerstar replied, licking her paw absentmindedly before glancing down at the kits quickly, though only to count them. Three kits. Almost a full litter, and that meant three more warriors. Excellent.

”You’ve named them, correct? Thanks to your…charming brother,” her lips turned up into a smirk as she thought of the bumblehead Shrikewhisker, ” I know the gray one is Willowkit. He was very specific in telling me that he was the one who named her. He’s quite proud to be their uncle. But what of the other two? The toms? What can I call them?”

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[Cloud of Diamonds]

Swallowpelt might have liked to roll her eyes in agreement with the bright-furred she-cat about her "charming brother" and snort out loud, but that was not her style. True, Shrikewhisker was kind of strange, and apparently annoying (she'd seen how Otterfur had acted around him, and of course he got on her nerves a bit more often than usual) but he was her only brother. But she still had Sootstorm...oh, just say something. Gingerstar's going to think you're mentally defective. She remembered to compose a neutral but fairly friendly expression. "Oh, the toms? Funny Shrikewhisker failed to mention their names. We named them Crowkit and Elmkit. And yes...I'm planning to not let them outside until they're at least a moon old, so they don't get sick from anything and so they don't mess with anything before Otterfur and I can educate them. That should solve a few problems before they begin." Wow. The gray queen was surprised at her relative chattiness. Maybe it was because she was only with Gingerstar, who was fair and not judgmental, rather than on a hunting patrol where she sometimes felt self-concious as a heavily-built she-cat. Their conversation wasn't so much happy, really, as it was simply useful for Gingerstar. And the PineClanner certainly didn't mind giving her leader infromation. The kits, she noticed, had woken and were now kneading her stomach with their tiny paws. Shifting herself up and outward slightly, she made it so they could nurse easily. It was slightly awkward to do it in front of the PineClan leader, but it was what she had to do, no use fussing about it.