"How is she?" A cat asked from within the den while washing her paws. She blinked with her emerald irises at the White tabby tom before her. "Not well," he replied solemnly. "She's in so much pain." He looked down at the ground as a small tear escaped him. He didn't like that his mate was in so much pain already. He looked back up at the other cat. "Moonflower," He began. "Lilystorm's in so much pain, I just can't stand it. It seems my kits will be born any second now." Moonflower blinked a little sadly. She knew as a medicine cat, this kitting wasn't going to go so well. Those kits weren't due for a few more moons but already the queen was having contractions. Those newborn kits are probably not going to survive. "I'll make sure Lilystorm makes it through, Whiteclaw. Just be prepared that the kits will be premature and probably not survive." Her voice was slightly quiet but she wouldn't sugar coat it for him. Whiteclaw shuddered in sorrow and finally nodded quietly while leaving the medicine cat den.
The night went on and Moonflower was asleep in her den when a yowling from outside the spanish moss hanging down from the den, awoke her. "Moonflower! Come quick! The kits...their coming!" It was Whiteclaw's voice. Moonflower hopped to her feet and ran out of her den into the nursery. She looked around for the birthing queen and spotted her quickly. The other kits in the den were curled up besides their mothers.
She moved to Lilystorm's side and place a delicate paw on her side. The contractions were powerful. The kits were being born now. It was as she feared. They were going to be premature and die. She had to save Lilystorm. "Your doing well, Lilystorm." She cooed and watched as a kit's head appeared. "Push, Lilystorm and push hard!" She instructed while gently pulling on the newborn. Soon enough the kit was out. She nipped the sack open and had Yellowbird lick the kit the wrong way to get its breathing going while Moonflower attended to the rest of the kits. Soon, five kits were born but non of them started to breath. They were still born. Moonflower sighed and shook her head at Lilystorm. The queen broke out in a loud sob but then the sob turned into searing pain. Another contraction?! Moonflower blinked in shock. There shouldn't be anymore kits! The medicine cat cheered the queen to push and then one of the smallest kits were born. She nipped the sack and began to lick it the wrong way to warm it and get the air flowing.
After several minutes of licking, Moonflower gave up. Another dead kit. The medicine cat stood up and was about to shake her head again when the smallest mew escaped the tiny scrap. It was a miracle from Starclan! Lilystorm yowled in delight and pushed the tiny kit into the curve of her belly so it may feed. Moonflower was worried. This was the tiniest kit born. Anyone could tell it was premature. It shouldn't have been born already. By the look on Lilystorm's face, she didn't care. She was just glad to have a living kit. But a kit that size, born in the middle of leaf-bare, will die by new-leaf. As these thoughts swirled around in Moonflower's head, she finally heard Lilystorm's voice. "Littlekit. His name will be Littlekit." She hoarsely meowed. The medicine cat purred at the name. It sure fit the little scrap. Too bad the odds were against the premature kit.