[Fate Admin]

Dovesong had been feeling off all morning and had retired to the nursery near sunhigh to rest. Only moments after she’d settled into her nest, which took much longer than normal due to her rather massive belly, swollen with her unborn kits, a sharp pain went through her, distantly and instinctually familiar. Still, it took one more pang before she realized her kits were coming. Firebird lounged just outside the nursery, sunning herself where Dovesong had left her when she’d come back to the nursery. “Firebird! Firebird, the kits are coming!”

A small ginger head poked in through the nursery entrance, “Are you sure? You were having false pains only a few days ago.”

“No, this time is different, it’s real this time,” she pressed, her pale green gaze sparkling with happiness. She winced as another pang hit.

Firebird didn’t question further, “I’ll be back soon.” She turned and headed first to the medicine cat den. Snowpaw was sitting in the open, sorting through herbs, “Snowpaw? Dovesong is kitting.”

The fluffy white tom whipped around, “Now?” He nearly bounced with excitement.

Firebird nodded, “Is Rookfrost-”

Snowpaw cut her off sharply, “I can take care of her myself.” A moment later he dipped his head slightly, apologetic to the older queen, “I’ll be there in a moment.” He turned back to his herbs, picking through them for those that would be helpful to his mother during her kitting, and any he might need in case… in case anything went wrong. He didn’t dwell on the thought, but he definitely wanted to be prepared. The more prepared he was for something to go wrong, the more likely it was that he could fix it before it went too wrong. He wouldn’t fail his mother like he had Frostpaw. He was convinced Rookfrost could have saved his sister’s eye, had he done anything. Instead he just stood there and watched while his half trained apprentice did all the work.

His ears twitched irritably as he thought of his mentor. Normally, he liked figuring things out on his own, but at that moment… for his sister… he had just wanted her to be okay. He hadn’t yet gained enough knowledge to save her eye, but he was so certain Rookfrost could have, had he stepped in when he’d seen that Snowpaw wasn’t… wasn’t good enough.

He checked over his herbs one last time, Ragwort, borage, raspberry leaves, thyme, chamomile, sorrel…. His mother might not need everything he was taking, but if there was the slightest chance she might need it, he was bringing it. He wrapped his herbs up in a larger leaf and turned, carrying them toward the nursery with hurried steps.

Firebird had left almost as soon as Snowpaw had told her he would be with his mother soon to find Windstrike, hoping the tom might be in camp and NOT out on, say, the sunhigh patrol. Dovesong would want him near.

Snowpaw ducked into the nursery with his bundle of herbs and set them down to nuzzle his mother affectionately, “How’s the pain?”

The white she-cat was panting lightly now, but brightened to see her son, “Not unbearable,” she purred, amused.

Snowpaw purred back, placing his paw gently upon his mother’s belly, feeling the kits within her and waiting for a few long moments before a contraction rippled across her flank. He waited a while longer to feel the next one, trying to judge how long it would be before the first kit arrived by how far apart the contractions were. He purred encouragingly and nuzzled her cheek before unwrapping his herbs, “It shouldn’t be too long. Here,” he mixed ragwort, sorrel, and a little borage together and pushed it toward her, “For strength, and to help the milk come. You’ll have quite a few mouths to feed,” he purred happily. He couldn’t wait to meet his new siblings. Four, if he had counted correctly.

[Fawn]

WINDSTRIKE~

41 Moons//Tom//Senior Warrior//LightningClan

"They're what?"

Windstrike wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Kits? Dovesong? ...Huh? Then, as if a boulder from on high had come to knock him back into reality, the silver tabby's whole body went rigid. Dovesong! The kits are HERE! With more speed than any cat had suspected compact, stocky tom capable of showing, Firebird was abruptly left in a figurative dust cloud as the tom set a course for the nursery. Ever since his mate had first informed him that he was to be a father, Windstrike had been staying close to camp as though he expected a stork to just show up and give them their kits and was afraid he might miss the delivery.

On the way back to camp from a sunhigh patrol, a dozen thoughts had bogged down the handsome silver tabby, causing him to space out and drag his paws through the thick moorland vegetation, but as of right now - his mind was as empty as a prey cache in leafbare. "Dovesong?" He called into the nursery, scarcely remembering having gotten here, so in the moment that he stared at Snowpaw for a second without recognizing him, and then the relief set in. "Is everything okay? The kits are coming?" Oh StarClan, what if I missed it? Eying his mate's still-swollen belly, fortunately that didn't appear to be the case at all, the tom shuffling awkwardly on his paws as he noticed her discomfort.
"Is there anything you need me to do? Get water?"

"Wait outside, maybe. You know, before you wear a hole in the earth."

The stocky silver tabby's yellow-gaze tore away from the two white cats to settle on another familiar white cat, this one with a distinctive splash of ginger on her face and ginger tail, good eye glittering with humor. She didn't appear remotely worried, and announced why with a jab of her tail in Snowpaw's direction. "Relax, Windstrike. Snowpaw's here, everything will go pretty smoothly."

He nodded as if he were being reassured before an upcoming battle, full of so much nervous, excited energy he wasn't sure what to do with it all. There was always running around the entire camp twice, but what if he missed the birth of his kits in the meantime? No, not happening. Not even StarClan could remove him from the vicinity now.

[Fate Admin]

Dovesong lapped up the herbs Snowpaw gave her, ignoring any unpleasant taste. Four kits would be quite the workout for her small frame and she could definitely use the strengthening herbs. Three had been tiring enough. Suddenly Windstrike burst into the nursery, causing both occupants to jump slightly. Dovesong’s purring deepened as she recognized her mate and reached a paw out toward him for calm, amused by how frantic he sounded. She pulled her paw back a moment later, however, as another contraction rippled along her flank, clenching her jaws together.

Snowpaw laughed, “It’s always the fathers who seem to need the thyme.” He checked on his mother’s progress again as Frostpaw entered. “Windstrike, why don’t you come lay with her. If Dovesong needs water I’m sure Frostpaw can go get it so you can stay with her.” He glanced at his sister for an affirmative. Dovesong WOULD be needing water, but she was okay for now. He felt it was more important for Windstrike to remain here than to be running around doing errands… it was important to his mother that her mate be by her side, like his own father hadn’t been. Besides, the other tom was honestly sort of in the way where he stood now. Let him be close to Dovesong to encourage her and see the birth of his kits. “Dovesong is bound to be tired delivering four kits, and they’ll need plenty of licking, so you can help with that too.”

He waved his tail for Windstrike to move closer to his mother and moved closer to Dovesong’s flanks as a stronger contraction had the white she-cat crying out softly. A small ginger head poked into the nursery and Firebird’s soft voice called in, “Everything going okay?”

The older ginger queen was quite pregnant herself with hers and Darkcloud’s third litter. Snowpaw expected he’d be helping deliver them as well before another half moon had passed. He paused to reassure her that everything was going just fine and her head withdrew. It would be much too crowded in the nursery with five full grown cats inside. Firebird wisely stuck to the entrance.

~~~***~~~

The first kit to be born let out a loud squeak as soon as Snowpaw began licking him. Dovesong shifted slightly to get a good look at her new kit and Snowpaw gave the tiny creature over their mother’s affections. She had a little time before the next kit would come. While Dovesong lapped the kit’s fur the wrong way instinctively, Snowpaw purred, flicking his long fluffy tail against Windstrike, “You have a son.”

Dovesong’s purring was nearly deafening as she nuzzled the tiny tom to her belly, “Look at him, Windstrike… a tabby like you.” She pressed her nose lightly into her new son’s brown tabby fur, “I’ve already gotten to name three lovely kits myself. You should name our first one.” She turned sparkling eyes to her mate, “What do you think?”

Snowpaw turned to Frostpaw, “Do you think you can get her some water soaked moss? She’ll be needing it soon. She’s just too excited to realize it yet,” he purred.

[Fawn]

WINDSTRIKE~

41 Moons//Tom//Senior Warrior//LightningClan

Frostpaw, who had been eagerly trying to peer around Windstrike's scarred, broad shoulders at her new half-brother, immediately snapped to attention. "Water? I'm on it." It was obvious that being around family put her in better spirits then if left alone, her clouded eye the last thing on her mind with the prospect of new siblings and the realization that her family had just gotten even bigger. Ginger and white fur brushed past Windstrike's bright silver tabby coat on her way out, the tom settling into a position that wouldn't obscure his view of his new offspring and yet still remain close to Dovesong.

~*~

Windstrike had been worriedly licking Dovesong's cheek when the first kitten had arrived with a surprisingly loud squawk, some inner part of him aware that it was quite possibly a tom, just on vocals alone. Stunned, as if he hadn't quite processed the fact that this was really happening, the silver tabby was startled by a strange raspy noise coming out of his throat, realizing he'd begun to involuntarily purr at his little one's arrival. He felt like he was going to explode with pride, nuzzling his mate gently, aware of her pain and her happiness all mixed together, his thoughts disjointed at first by the rush of emotions. Gradually the began to knit themselves into coherency, and Windstrike finally got a good look at his son.

"He's beautiful," murmured the blunt battle-scarred tabby, staring warmly at the kitten nuzzled against Dovesong's belly. "Tigerkit maybe?" Was this really happening? He and Dovesong were actually having a discussion on what to name their newly arrived kits; they'd gone over names before, but given the guesstimated color scheme, Windstrike had been forced to avoid suggesting a name that was very near and dear to him. Eying the brown tabby pelt on their first born, Windstrike knew immediately what name he could use.
"Blazekit." He didn't have to explain to whom this was a tribute to, Dovesong would know. I hope you're looking down from StarClan, brother. If he hadn't already heard from Snowpaw that Dovesong was likely to have four kits, he would've been perfectly content with their only their current kitten, but the anticipation was beginning to build up again. Purring in an even louder tone than Dovesong, Windstrike rested his muzzle against his mate's fur gently, not wishing to actually hurt her, but show a kind of quiet support to the one he loved most. Well, to the two, three, four and five cats in the whole forest that he loved most.
Get here safely, kits. Don't give your mom too much of a hard time, or your Dad'll be upset!

Yellow eyes caught movement out of their peripherals, Frostpaw having returned with soaked moss, her shoulder brushing the entrance of the den in her haste, her depth perception still a bit off - but the she-cat hardly noticed.

[Fate Admin]

Dovesong purred, rasping her tongue over her newborn son, “Blazekit.” He was right. There was no reason for him to explain the name to her. Their tiny son was somewhat reminiscent of the short-lived leader, and Windstrike’s best friend. It was a good name, and honored both her mate’s lost friend and their new son. Before she could say more Frostpaw was back with water and Snowpaw was telling her to drink while she could. Obediently, she lapped at the dripping moss as her contractions built up for the next kit.

~~~

The second kit was a she-cat, as white as her mother. Snowpaw had set the newborn at Windstrike’s paws and told him to start licking because another kit was already on the way and he had to keep an eye on Dovesong. Let him bond with his new daughter from the start.

Dovesong was panting from the effort of delivering her daughter, but the next kit was ready and wasn’t giving its mother any sort of break. Snowpaw pushed the wet moss closer to his mother’s panting muzzle and placed one paw gently upon her side, feeling for the kit’s progress. A low meow from his mother told him it would be soon. “C’mon kit, she needs a rest,” he mewed lightheartedly to show he didn’t have any immediate concerns about Dovesong’s or the kit’s health.

~~~

Dovesong was thoroughly exhausted after her third kit’s birth and simply lay on her side, enjoying the brief reprieve. Snowpaw pushed a small mix of herbs toward her, “This should keep your strength up for the last one. After the last two I think you could use a boost.” It wasn’t a lot. He’d already given her ragwort earlier, but she just seemed so tired…. There was also a bit of raspberry leaf to dull the pain a little. He could see from that telling dullness of her eyes that she was in quite a bit more pain now than she had been at the start.

Gratefully, the white queen lapped up the leaves and laid her head back down on, closing her eyes. “One more.” She laid still for a moment before finally raising her head to look at the two kits she had just given birth to. The white she-cat and a silver tabby tom, just like his father. A purr erupted from her throat as she saw the two of them, but especially the tom that looks so much like his father. “Oh, Windstrike, look at them!” She shifted slightly to nuzzle them both, rasping her tongue happily over their tiny bodies.

“He looks just like you, Windstrike…,” her eyes were all for that tiny clone of her mate, thinking about how every time she looked at her new son she would be reminded of him. She purred, “Gustkit… he needs a name like yours. He’s so much like you.” She glanced at her mate and then back to her son, nuzzling him toward her belly gently before turning her attention to the white she-cat, “Gustkit… and Galekit. I’ve always loved that name. And they sound so good together….”

[Fawn]

WINDSTRIKE~

41 Moons//Tom//Senior Warrior//LightningClan

It was strange, looking down and seeing a miniature version of himself and Dovesong, the two kittens squirming up beside their brown tabby brother Blazekit, the father of the litter trying not to succumb to another wave of emotion. "They're beautiful, Dovesong. Gustkit and Galekit are perfect names." Nuzzling her as he murmured, the muscular battle-scarred silver tabby couldn't tear his eyes away from the family that had already grown by three in a single day.

Amidst the overwhelming love and affection he was feeling towards the three tiny offspring nestled at Dovesong's belly, was the increasing concern for his mate's wellbeing throughout this kitting. Judging by Frostpaw's and Snowpaw's pleasant reactions and light-hearted banter in between births, the kitting was going as well as a kitting could, but there was no mistaking how tired Dovesong looked.

Three was enough, right? There couldn't possibly be anymore! More than three and the poor tiny snow white she-cat would have burst a long time ago! Windstrike rested a dark silver paw on his mate's flank, noticing the she-cat still felt a little swollen. "Anyone that's still in there, could you do your Dad a big favor and get here soon? Your poor mom really needs a break." He mewed softly to Dovesong's belly, his tail making s-shaped patterns against the nursery floor in anxiousness though he was frequently rocketed out of his sense of nervousness whenever it occurred to him that he was a father. He was someone's father, a cat those kits would look up to and look to for guidance, the mate Dovesong had always wanted, and hopefully the parental figure, the authoritative, loving father these kits would need.

If names were anything to go by, Blaze, Gust and Gale were all very strong, persistent names, indicating strong, persistent personalities, all three of them looking healthy and otherwise immaculate, their tiny ears pressed flat to their tiny heads, tiny paws kneading against their mother's belly.

Windstrike stole another glance at the exhausted Dovesong, feeling his heart pang against his ribcage by the dulling look to her eyes and the lack of energy she'd had earlier; it wasn't as if Dovesong hadn't kitted before, Snowpaw and Frostpaw were proof enough of that, but she hadn't had more than three kits in one kitting before. The last thing the new father wanted was for Dovesong's health to be jeopardized during the kitting.
"How are you feeling? This shouldn't take too much longer, right?" That last question was directed at Snowpaw, Windstrike not so much preparing for the worst, but always seeming to expect complications when it came to Dovesong and their relationship.

It wasn't as if they were cursed to have hardship and ran into obstacles that kept them apart, it was more like... After losing Blazehawk, his father, several friends... He'd come to expect difficulties. The life of a warrior wasn't easy, after all.

[Fate Admin]

Dovesong purred softly as Windstrike urged any remaining kits to hurry their birth up for her sake. She could feel the effects of the herbs Snowpaw had given her starting to spread an extra reserve of strength through her tired limbs, a small boost to her energy, a dulling of the pain the contractions caused. She lay still on her side, eyes closed, trying to grab hold of that reserve of strength for the last kit to come. She could do this, just one more. She had a few moments to wonder what it might look like, if it would be a tom or a she-cat. She gave a small smile to her mate as he asked how she was feeling, “I’m fine, Windstrike. I’m glad you’re here.” She leaned up to lick his cheek lovingly. Cloudflight had not been here for her like this. It was amazing the difference it made to have your mate there supporting you.

Snowpaw felt his mother’s side, narrowing his eyes slightly in concentration. This one seemed to be moving slower than its precious siblings. He frowned slightly. It felt a little different too…. It dawned on him, it wasn’t coming head first like the others. He took a deep breath and sat back. This happened a lot, it was normal. It didn’t mean anything would go wrong. It would be a little harder on Dovesong to deliver, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t do it without help. Still, he’d better let her know so she could be prepared. Hopefully Windstrike wouldn’t freak out. He cleared his throat slightly, “I don’t want anyone to panic,” he fixed a pale green stare not unlike Dovesong’s own upon Windstrike in particular, “But the next kit is coming out the wrong way. This happens a lot and rarely leads to any problems, but it’ll be harder to birth than the previous kits were, so you’ll have to push harder and longer Dovesong. If it starts taking too long I might have to help, but everything should be just fine.” He tried to sound as reassuring as possible. He honestly didn’t expect much of a problem at all and he hoped the others could sense that from him.

Dovesong laid back and closed her eyes. Wonderful. She was certainly glad Snowpaw had given her those strengthening herbs now, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to do a harder birth after already giving birth to three kits. She clenched her teeth and held back a strangled meow of pain as the kit drew closer to its birth. It definitely felt different than the others had, it hurt more. She braced herself as best she could and gathered up what remained of her strength.

~~~

At long last the fourth kit was born, and much to everyone’s surprise, shortly after the silver shaded tom, a muddy brown tom was born as well, in a birth much, much easier than his older brother’s. He came almost as an afterthought and hardly took much more out of his mother than Blazekit had when she was still full of strength and energy at the beginning of her kitting. Snowpaw’s ears flattened briefly as the fifth kit was born. He hadn’t counted correctly. But everything went much better than expected and he hadn’t even had to help Dovesong birth the fourth kit, she’d been able to do it herself.

He felt her side gently, confirming that there were, in fact, no more kittens hiding within, and sat back with a purr, “You did great, Dovesong.” He leaned forward to rasp his tongue inbetween his mother’s ears in congratulations, “Four toms and one she-cat.” He looked to Windstrike, “Congratulations on your kits.” Snowpaw didn’t want to congratulate him on becoming a father… the tom had already been like a father to him and his siblings, more involved that than their real father, though Cloudflight had taken some time to interact with them on occasion. The vast majority of Snowpaw’s memories from the nursery which involved a father figure included Windstrike, not Cloudflight, and while he bore no real ill will toward his real father, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed about how his father and mother’s relationship had gone. He was glad Dovesong had found Windstrike instead and loved the tom for how happy he made her.

He stepped back, “Dovesong, you should rest soon. I’ll be back to check on you and the kits tomorrow.” He glanced toward the den entrance, where the last light of the day shone red, marking the time as sunset. Dovesong might need more borage tomorrow since she was feeding five, but for now, rest would do her a world of good. “Let me know what you’ve decided for the last two names when I come to see you tomorrow.” He purred and nuzzled his mother briefly. He would stay to hear them, but he wanted to give her and Windstrike a moment to be alone with their new kits. As he turned to leave, he brushed his tail along his sister’s flank, hinting at her to follow him out.

Dovesong watched her son leave through half-lidded, tired eyes before turning to look at the two newest additions to her family. Two more toms. She nuzzled them both toward her belly, purring softly, “What do you think, Windstrike…? I’m too tired to think of more names,” she mewed, amusement in her quiet tone. She rested her chin on her paws, half curled around her new kits. She tried to stay awake long enough to hear her mate’s name ideas.

[Fawn]

WINDSTRIKE~

41 Moons//Tom//Senior Warrior//LightningClan

The second to last kitten - a little silvery white tom that was a handsome blend of both their pelt colors - had given him quite a scare, what with Snowpaw's words of caution concerning what was left of the birthing process. Unable to do something as usual, Windstrike had sat back and offered Dovesong support both silent and verbal, speaking to her in low, loving tones that contradicted his battle-rowdy persona to almost absurd levels. "Thank StarClan, they were all delivered safely. Thank you, Dovesong, for giving me such a beautiful family."

If he purred any harder, the silver tabby tom felt as if his throat would start to hurt, tongue already feeling dry from his constant vigilence by Dovesong's side; Frostpaw may've brought them both moss soaked in water throughout the entire kitting, but Windstrike had neglected to actually lap up the droplets in favor of letting Dovesong take as much as she needed. She was the one trying to bring four kits into this world, not him.

Actually, five kits.

A small earth-brown kitten had brought up the rear to round out five kits in total, the coloration in stark contrast with the silvery-white tom who had been birthed funny, the silver tabby tom and white she-cat. Windstrike chuckled, having taken a few seconds to think back through his known family history to come up with the reasoning for such an unexpected color to show up in his perfect little family.
"He looks like my grandfather, Mudtalon." The name alone was enough to indicate which kitten he was talking about - he already knew what to name the silvery white tom who'd given his mother so much trouble. "As for this little troublemaker," Windstrike purred, pressing his muzzle first into his mate's neck before leaning over her to lick the fourth tom. "How about Pigeonkit? He reminds me so much of you, and I don't think he'd appreciate me calling him Dovekit." Yellow eyes roved over the five squirming bundles nursing against their tired mother's belly. "Pigeonkit and Mudkit. I know Mud isn't a very flattering name, but Mudtalon was a great warrior, so that name has good standing in my family."

Well aware that Dovesong could use a long, long nap, Windstrike didn't bother chattering her ears off about Grandpa Mudtalon and his noteworthy feats of glory; he would let her and their beautiful new babies get some much needed rest, and probably go hunting. StarClan knows she was going to be starving by the time she woke up. Feeling warmth fill every part of his stocky silver and black body, Windstrike kneaded the ground a moment, expressing his happiness in the quietest way he knew how to - as shouting in the confining space of the nursery would warrant him the quickest cuff around the ears possible.

They really were beautiful, each and every one of them. Blazekit, Gustkit, Galekit, Pigeonkit and Mudkit. Somehow, without even realizing it quite yet, those five little warriors would be the tonic he needed to finally get over Blazehawk, to finally let the wound close up properly, to let Windstrike move on at last.