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TRIGGER WARNING
Please be advised: this thread centers around miscarriage. If you are not comfortable with the topic, do not go any further. Your comfort and happiness are most important <3

Minnowsplash,

What lies behind you and what lies in front of you pales, in comparison to what lies inside you
_{Ralph Waldo Emerson}

She hadn't felt right in a couple days. But today... Today she felt wrong. She'd stayed in her nest, her nose tucked under her tail even as Bravebird left for a morning patrol. The last thing she had wanted was for him to leave, but who was she to cling to him like a kitten when he had important work to do for the Clan. Still, he'd promised her he'd return soon, and for a while, she'd remained just counting down the heartbeats until he'd be back at her side. That was until the strange discomfort in her belly turned to something more akin to pain.

Shaky paws stepped out into a bleak world, her pelt almost instantly flattened to her rounded sides by the falling rain despite the slight water resistance RainClan was known for. Inhaling in an attempt to steady herself, she forced her legs to work, to carry her toward Dewfrost's den. Dewfrost would know what was going on, how to help. Yet every step felt like she was clawing her way up the steepest mountain. Swallowing around the lump in her throat, she ducked her head and pushed herself onward, through the never-ending curtain of rain.

She'd almost made it. She was a whisker-breadth away from the sanctuary provided by the RainClan medicine cat den when a bizarre shiver rippled through her frame. It was a shuddering beginning near her chest, creeping deliberately and painfully through her stomach to the base of her tail. Although she inhaled in shock, it stole her breath away all at once, and she felt her body crumple in on itself as the pain blurred her vision. Her jaws parted as she registered somewhere that she should call for help. Yet all that escaped was a hiccuping squeak as her paws curled and flexed her claws into the open air.

Dimly, she heard someone call her name. "Minnowsplash..? Are you okay? Dewfrost! I think there's something wrong with Minnowsplash!" From somewhere else, another piped in. "Someone go get Bravebird! I think he's on patrol." Bravebird. She wanted Bravebird. She wanted this strange purgatory of dull senses and thrumming pain to stop, and she wanted to wake up back in her nest with Bravebird at her side. Instead, with her face contorting in a mask of agony, her fangs bit down on the edge of her tongue and filled her mouth with a metallic tang.

"Minnowsplash, it's me, Dewfrost. Can you tell me what's wrong?" She wanted to reply to the medicine cat, she did. But her throat felt as though it were constricted around every word, and her brain failed to grasp what she wanted desperately to say. "H-Hurt... I... I h-hurt." She whimpered, her eyes stinging with a flood of tears erased by the patter of rain.

RainClan, She-Cat, 60 Moons

_{~450 words Phoenix </3 </3 </3}

[Phoenix]

Bravebird

On rainy days like these, abandoning the comfort of her warm fur and familiar scent for the cold wet of an unforgiving downpour became a near impossible undertaking. Blue eyes blinked sleepily across the warrior’s den as their owner idly wondered if it would be possible to convince Emberlight to let him skip out on the morning patrol today. All he wanted to do was curl up closer to Minnowsplash and go back to sleep until the rain had cleared – but alas, he had promised Russethawk he’d go with him. It had been a while since they’d had a chance to catch up.

Carefully, he extracted himself from the warmth of his mate’s soft embrace, unable to stop himself from smiling slightly as she grumbled, half-asleep, at him to stay. She had no idea how cute she was. Bending down, he pressed his nose gently to the top of her head and promised to return shortly, before quietly stepping past her and exiting the den. Though the chilly morning air hit him as soon as he stepped from the den, the lingering fondness he felt for the beautiful she-cat back in their nest kept him warm while he braved the cold new-leaf rain. With a smile and a pleasant mew, he exchanged greetings with Russethawk, Stormfeather, and Heronsplash, before they began complaining about the weather as their paws carried them toward the camp exit. Blue eyes met bright green as the old friends fell into step beside each other, shoulders nearly brushing.

The StoneClan border was quiet – and had been for a few moons now – but they dutifully renewed the scent markings along their side of the stream anyway. Conversation had shifted from the weather to Lilygleam’s new kits, who had just arrived at the change of the season. Having grown up as Swanfeather’s only son, Bravebird couldn’t help but find his mind slightly boggled by the idea of having siblings, let alone ones so much younger than him. What would it have been like to be able to say that his older brother was leader of the clan? And then a thought gave him pause: probably not that much different than being able to say that his mother was the clan’s medicine cat, though, he acknowledged with a quiet sigh, her name was spoken with more notoriety than reverence these days.

Ever the opportunist, Russethawk pointedly nudged the pale-furred warrior’s shoulder at the change of topic, giving him a knowing look. The latter tom rolled his eyes at the unspoken question, knowing his brother in all but blood well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. “Not yet,” He replied, though the smile on his lips ruined the overdramatic air of being entirely put out by the rehashing of old conversations. “But if it does happen, I promise, you will be the first to know.” Russethawk’s and Ashflight’s kits may have spent several seasons in the apprentice’s den already, but Bravebird and Minnowsplash had remained without a little family of their own - though it wasn’t for lack of desire.

As the patrol started making their way back to camp, thoroughly drenched but otherwise in a decent mood, he let his imagination wander down a future where the she-cat of his dreams lay curled up in the nursery with a handful of tiny kits suckling at her side. What would they name them? He could only imagine the way Russethawk would beam at him if they decided to name one after him, but Bravebird could not deny the importance of the other tom in his life. He was also partial to one named for his mother – perhaps a Featherkit? – but he knew that the very same she-cat had caused Minnowsplash a considerable amount of pain during the Civil War. Still…

“Bravebird!”

The shout had his head jerking around in shock, wide blue eyes staring at Ashflight as the tabby and white she-cat ran toward the patrol. Beside him, he felt Russethawk start at the sight of his mate. The beginnings of alarm began to flicker through him as pale green eyes met his. And then she uttered the phrase he had never hoped to hear: “It’s Minnowsplash.”

Heart in his throat, he exchanged the briefest of looks with an equally anxious Russethawk – and in that span of time, a silent understanding passed between them – before he bolted for camp. All he could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing and the racing of blood through his ears as he retraced Ashflight’s steps as fast as his paws could carry him. The memory of the half-asleep and utterly adorable Minnowsplash curled up in their nest from earlier that morning lingered in the back of his mind as he tried to figure out what could possibly have happened to her in the hours that he had been gone. A childhood spent in the medicine cat den with his mother had taught him that sometimes cats died unexpectedly in their sleep, but his mate was young and healthy, not old and frail. Hang on, Minnie. I’m coming.

Without even bothering to shake off the water from his pelt, Bravebird all but skidded to Dewfrost’s den, where he saw the brown and white she-cat gently nosing her collapsed companion. He saw pain etched into every inch of her face, and his heart remained caught in his throat as he pressed his nose to Minnowsplash’s cheek. “I’m here,” He murmured, sides heaving from his sprint the short distance back to camp. He lowered himself to the ground until he lay beside her, trying to offer her his strength. “Breathe, my love. It’ll be alright.” With a brief lick to the top of her head, he pulled away slightly to address Dewfrost. “What’s wrong?”

lights will guide you home
and i will try to fix you

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