Chapter 13
The day my kits were born was the happiest day of Night's life. It was the happiest day of my life too, of course, but I didn't keep saying it over and over. Night was acting like a kit himself- bouncing around impatiently and repeatedly asking when they'd finally be born. He had to have asked me at least twenty times. Night was very excited to be a father, but he was getting to be a little annoying. I didn't mind too much, though. I was really just as excited as he was.
We had three, just like Night wanted. Two tiny toms and one little-she-cat were born that day, just before the sun set. One of the toms and the she-cat were ginger like me. The other tom was black with a solid white chest and stomach. They were beautiful. Night thought so too. He said they were the best looking kits the forest had ever seen. They really were, but I was just happy they were strong and healthy.
Night wanted to name the ginger tom Tiger. I thought that sounded like a good name for a strong kit. It suited him with his little tiger stripes. I suggested the name Shadow for the black tom. Night nodded, saying that was a good name, even though he still like Storm for a tom. We decided to same our daughter Petal. It was new-leaf, after all, and the flowers were in full bloom. There were petals everywhere.
Tiger, Shadow, and Petal- three lovely little kits born on a lovely new-leaf evening. They would not have the same memories I had as a tiny kit. Their first memories would not be cold and starvation. They would only know warmth and full bellies- every mother's dream. All three were strong and healthy. I wasn't worried that any of them would have the same fate as poor helpless Mallow. These kits had a good future ahead of them.
Night stationed himself outside the den as a guard after that. He said that even though prey was running well in the forest, foxes or badgers would still be interested in easy meals, and they would be attracted by the mewls of tiny kits. Night sat by the entrance day and night, not allowing anything to disturb his family. He only left long enough to catch something for him and me to eat, otherwise he stayed by the entrance watching for trouble.
When the kits were five days old they opened their eyes. All three of them had deep green eyes, like mine. Night found it humorous that none of our children had his amber eyes. He wondered if our next litter would have only amber eyes, but no green. I didn't care what color their eyes were. I was just happy all three of them opened theirs. I couldn't help but remember Mallow and how long it took her to opened her little eyes. I had to remind myself that my kits were not Mallow- they were strong. They would live.
Night called our kits "little stars." I didn't know he had a fascination in stars. It turned out that as much as I despised the stars, he loved them. Night said the stars were a symbol of hope and life, of bright futures and happiness. I told him what I thought about stars. They were signs of death and destruction. Night sighed. He knew about my past, of course. He wasn't going to try and convince me to like the stars- he knew he couldn't anyway. He just said that maybe I was misreading the stars. Maybe the stars were telling me to keep up hope- not blame them for my family's deaths. I suppose he had a point, but I didn't want to admit it.
The kits really did have beautiful eyes. They were so bright and full of curiosity and wonder. They held such innocence, so much wisdom. Kits didn't know hardships, they don't know about vicious, murderous rogues, they don't know about death. Kits only know love, trust, warmth, and safety. Kits trust anyone who comes their way. They love anyone who looks on them with love. Sometimes innocence makes the wisest beings, I believe.
Unfortunately, life could not leave well enough alone. Life couldn't let me be happy for a while. Life couldn't let me raise my kits and live in peace. It had to intervene. I seriously believe that I was not meant to live a happy life. For some reason, I was supposed to be miserable all the time. I had been happy for three moons, and that was long enough apparently.
The kits were a half-moon old at the time. They were just beginning to stretch their tiny legs and push themselves around the nest. They had just begun to say their first words. Shadow's first words were "Food! Now!" The torrential rain began just before the sun would have been at its highest, if the sun was visible. It was a dark and gloomy, cold new-leaf day, and the rain poured and poured, long into the night and the next day. Early the second morning the rain started seeping into the nest, dripping from the sandy roof.
I frantically asked Night what to do, gathering the kits close against me. Night was just as frightened as I was. He had never had the nest flood before, but it was clear that was going to be the case. He said we had to get out of the den or we'd all drown. I was worried that the kits would all catch their death out in the cold rain, but we had no choice.
Night grabbed Petal and hauled her out of the den. I followed, carrying Tiger. Shadow scrambled after us, mewling piteously. I set Tiger down long enough to lift Shadow onto Night's back. The little kit was already soaked, and he buried his tiny face in Night's fur. Night and I exchanged terrified glances. We had no idea where to go. We had to find shelter, but everything in this part of the forest was already flooding. Night just gave me a helpless look and motioned me to follow him. I did, but a terrible feeling was welling in my chest. Somehow I knew we wouldn't be able to find a safe, dry place to stay.