Owl: So here is the long awaited sequel that we promised. More to come soon.
Seeker: Owl's working on the next chappie as we speak. So enjoy.
Owl: Tell us what you think; we're looking into making these longer and more detailed than in Academy, and want your opinions. Also, there may be some triggers, and we'll warn you about those at the top of the page. Any strictly mature stuff will be posted strictly to tumblr, and we'll let you know about that too.
Seeker: Suggestions always welcome; so are questions. XD So review! Also, this chapter is the sequel (of sorts) to the first of the Graduation Arc on Academy.
OvO
Dustpelt had always sworn to himself that he wouldn't pace. Pacing was for stupid tv shows and those silly books that Ferncloud read and he pretended not to love. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't be like that. So now, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He might settle for beating his head against the waiting room vending machine. He should be in the delivery room, holding Ferncloud's hand and petting her sweaty hair, but by the time he'd gotten Ashfur's call and managed to get out of work, they'd already had her in surgery. Emergency C-section; the baby's umbilical cord had gotten wrapped around its neck, and they couldn't wait any longer to deliver. Ashfur had gone in with her, but the room had been too small to admit Dustpelt as well, and as panicky as he was- not to mention how dirty and unsterile he looked- the doctor had requested that he wait outside.
The vending machine idea was starting to sound better and better.
A nurse padded into the room, and he leapt up from his chair at once, nearly pouncing on her in his urgency for news.
"Where is my wife? Is she alright? Is the baby?"
The nurse cowered. Dustpelt was not a small man, and at the moment he was covered in dirt, and oil from work, and one of his hands was drenched in dried blood; he had been worried enough the last few days about Ferncloud's false labor pains, almost three months early, that he'd asked Ashfur to keep an eye on her and call him if anything happened while he was at work. He'd had his hands buried in the undercarriage of an ancient Toyota today when his phone had gone off, and he'd jerked them out too fast in his hurry to answer it, cutting three of his fingers on a jutting piece of metal. He hadn't bothered to clean up before jumping in his truck and heading to the hospital.
The nurse took a cautious step back. Her nametag read 'Echosong.'
"I don't know, sir; but I can find out." She added quickly. "What's your wife's name?"
"Ferncloud."
"I'll be right back; I'm sure she's fine." She assured in a soothing voice, and scurried from the room.
That's when Dustpelt started pacing. He ran his hands through his hair. He collapsed back into his chair and tried not to tear his hair out or scream. He was probably scaring the other people in the waiting room, but he couldn't have cared less about them.
"Sir?"
His head jerked up. A doctor stood in the doorway this time, looking too clean to have just performed surgery of any kind, but that didn't stop Dustpelt from bouncing to his feet at once.
"Are you Dustpelt?"
Dustpelt nodded.
"My name is Barkface; I was the one who performed your wife's surgery." The doctor explained.
"How is she?"
The doctor smiled.
"She's just fine; she's resting now. You-"
"And the baby?" Dustpelt interrupted hurriedly.
The doctor hesitated now.
"The baby will be fine."
"Will be?"
"Your son was born almost three months early, sir; he's roughly three pounds and a new born should weigh in between five and seven. He'll need to remain in the hospital for some time until we can be sure all of his organs are fully formed and operating correctly and he gains some weight. You see, what happened was his umbilical cord got wrapped around his neck, causing stress on your wife's body inducing early labor. However, it looks as though he'll be just fine. We were able to unwrap it and successfully deliver." He gestured down the hall with a tilt of his head. "Would you like to see them?"
He nodded, vigorously.
"Please."
He almost stepped on the poor man several times in his hurry to reach his wife and child. Finally, after the third or fourth time, Barkface stepped aside and gestured down the hall.
"Room 113. Go on."
Dustpelt didn't so much as hesitate, almost sprinting down the hall. He slowed only when he reached the door, and pushed it open carefully.
"Ferncloud." He was at her side in a moment, casting a grateful glance to Ashfur before transferring all of his focus to his pale wife. "You okay, baby?"
She looked at him, her fingers squeezing his where he'd wrapped both hands around one of hers. Her green eyes were a little foggy and unclear.
"The baby?" she asked woozily. "Is the baby..?"
Dustpelt leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"The baby's fine." He cast his eyes up at Ashfur as he said it, and his brother-in-law's eyes twinkled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion as he tilted his chin at something behind Dustpelt's shoulder. Turning his head slightly, Dustpelt saw an incubator standing against the wall, his tiny son squirming inside.
"See." He murmured, moving aside so that she could see the baby as well. "He's right there."
She relaxed a fraction as she focused on the baby's shape beyond the glass, and she asked,
"Is it a-?"
"Boy." Dustpelt murmured, remembering how the doctor had said 'son.' "It's a boy."
She smiled, blinking her gaze back to him, and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, resting his cheek on the sheets. Ashfur leaned in to kiss his sister's pale cheek.
"What're you gonna call him?" he asked. Dustpelt looked back at the tiny baby boy, and knew Ferncloud was doing the same.
"Larchkit?" she asked him softly, and he felt her eyes on him now. He smiled, eyes moving to meet hers.
"Larchkit."
OvO
Reviewwww! XD ~Owl & Seeker