Mackerel padded out of the enclosed cave that served as a den and smiled. In the small meadow in front of the entrance, Shackle was playing with her four moon old kits. It was an awkward scene, as Shackle towered over all of them. He was very careful however, and the large gray tom was managing not to crush any of his kits. The three kits would sneak up from behind him, and then attempt to pounce on him yelling battle cries. They typically all fell off from the sides, hardly even managing to get a grip on his ginormous body.
The sight of her beautiful kits, climbing and tumbling on her mate, made Mackerel smile; the young she cat had always been the mothering type. Even when she was just a kit herself, she would daydream about having children to care for. At least then she would have known that at least one cat in this world loved her, and those kits may have helped her through those tough times and left her with fewer emotional scars. However, now she realized that her kits would most likely have been killed if she had attempted to raise them back then.
She hadn't been loved as a kit, and in fact had been hated. She remembered being hiding in the hayloft, attempting to listen to the stories her mother told her brothers to get even the tiniest taste of love. She remembered her brother's tricking her, and their horrible monster of a friend. She knew now that it was for the best that she had never gotten pregnant with kits after that. They would have been the kits of a monster, and now she had her own beautiful kits, from a beautiful father.
Just as she finished thinking about him, Shackle called from his post with the kits. They had managed to swarm over him, and he had fallen down. He couldn't quite figure out how to get up, without crushing his kits underneath him. That was the huge tom's biggest fear; that he would accidently hurt his children. He had hurt kits in the past, and he was haunted by the memory. "Mackerel, dear, if it's not too much trouble, do you think you could maybe give me a paw over here?" His voice held no orders of any kind, and it probably never would. The fact that he had even progressed far enough to ask a cat for help in itself was incredible.
Shackle had been a servant before he was released from his duties. When he was still just a kit, he was taught that he must obey his master. If he even thought about disobeying his master, and doing his own thing then he would be horribly punished. Due to those things from his past, Shackle would probably never be the same as any other cats. He loved Mackerel dearly, he was just sometimes uncertain on how to express it.
"Of course dear!" Mackerel called, as she raced over to his side. She gently reached over and lifted her three kits off of him one by one. First she lifted up Jane, a small she-cat with a coat similar to Mackerel's. Even though the small cat had Mackerel's markings, she was already bigger than her two brothers. Mackerel and Shackle both thought that she had inherited Shackle's size and that she would be as big as him when she was older, or at least close to it. Mackerel felt a small twinge in her chest as she thought about how Jane had two brothers, just like she had. What if they decided to team up against her, what if they abused Jane like Mackerel's brothers had abused her? Mackerel shook herself and set Jane down.
This situation was entirely different. Jane's two brothers loved her dearly, and Mackerel would never allow them to abuse her. If any of her kits even started attempting to pick on their littermates, Mackerel or Shackle stepped in and separated them. Jane was always feisty, and seemed to be the most hyper of the kits. If there was an argument, it was usually Jane who started the fight, not her brothers. Her poor brothers were usually stuck listening to her argue, but after the fight died down she would apologize, and they would all get along again.
Next, Mackerel lifted off Oath. Oath was a small kit, probably the smallest of the litter. He was always more quiet and had Shackle's dark grey coat. Mackerel was always worrying about him, because he rarely stood up for himself. Whenever one of the other cats picked on him, he would just put his head down and bear it until someone else stepped in. Mackerel was constantly giving him lectures on standing up for himself, and having good self-confidence. There was only thing that remotely stood out about Oath, and that was his amber eyes. His eyes seemed to be even brighter then Mackerel's and they stood out against his siblings faded yellow eyes. Mackerel was careful to set him gently on the ground, and he slowly slunk over to where Jane was bouncing back and forth.
Finally, Mackerel lifted off Jenner. Whenever she heard Jenner's name, it took her a moment to remember that it was the name of her kit now. She had named Jenner in honor of one of her dead friends. She never wanted to forget Jenner, who had died in the huge battle against the clan. That battle had been terrible, there was so much panic and chaos and just general death everywhere.
The stench of the blood had filled the air and there was no escaping from it. She had lost two of her friends that night, Jaci and Jenner. She would miss them both forever, but new lives were starting now. There was new hope; soon she had to teach her kits to hunt and to fight. That night had also been the night that she started to fall for Shackle. The entire terrible story of her past had come spilling out to him, and he had accepted it without a word. He was strong, always strong. Shackle was her rock, and she loved him. Each day when he went hunting so that she could take care of the kits she longed for his return. The old stories were told over and over again to the kits; so that once they were gone the memory of everything that they had been through would live on.
Mackerel did not place down Jenner next to others; instead she kept the normal sized gray tabby held in her jaws. "Come on, all of you inside the den now. It's going to be dark soon and we don't want to be stuck outside at night."
Shackle rose to his feet and shook, staying a careful distance away from Jane and Oath. He spoke quietly, staring at Mackerel and his wonderful kits. There was still times when he wondered why he was blessed with such wonderful gifts, he had an amazing mate, and wonderful children. He deserved none of this however; this life should not have been his. He had let his master down, and now his master was weak in an old barn being cared for by others. Maelstorm had told them to go, he had given his blessing. It still seemed wrong to Shackle somehow, but Mackerel was constantly begging him not to think like that. He always had to give into her desires in the end, she was irresistible to him. "I should go hunting, that way we have food for sunrise."
Mackerel turned around, Jenner dangling from her jaws and Jane and Oath at her feet. "No, please. Come with us, I can hunt in the morning. Could you carry Oath for me please? He looks so tired."
Shackle considered protesting, but one look at her amber eyes and he felt himself melting again. "Of course dear." He murmured, and very carefully lifted tiny Oath up in his jaws. He was incredibly careful as he walked forward into the den, following Mackerel, who had Jane directly behind her. Once they were in the den, he set Oath down carefully and curled around Mackerel so she would remain warm. All three of the kits climbed on top of, and around the mates so that they could settle into a warm area. Soon, all of the cats in the den were asleep and happy. And it seemed that despite all they'd been through, Mackerel and Shackle got their happy ending after all.
~Sorry for the general badness of this, I was really tired when writing and have never used these characters before. Drop a review maybe?