Sorry for the long delay, but here's the eighth chapter! Next one is when the story really starts going.
Mapleshade waited anxiously in the nursery entrance beside Yarrowclaw. After a long pregnancy that lasted well over the time it should've, Petalwhisker had finally entered labor. However, that was early that morning; it had just reached sunhigh, and Petalwhisker had only now started to push out the first kit. She was already exhausted from the massive effort, and her mother began to doubt how much longer she could go. She'd never seen such a difficult kitting.
"You're doing so well, Petalwhisker," Patchberry comforted his littermate quietly as he worked alongside Ravenwing.
"The kit is coming out backwards," Ravenwing meowed. "As if this wasn't already a dangerous birth!"
"Will the kits be okay?" Yarrowclaw asked with concern.
"Maybe," Patchberry replied, uncertainty in his tone.
"I think that you and Mapleshade should go," Ravenwing added. "Your presences might be stressing Petalwhisker out more. Besides, you'll be more useful if you're hunting or patrolling."
Mapleshade couldn't bring herself to move. "I can't just leave my daughter alone when she's kitting, especially since she's so young. And just look at how it's going! I'm staying."
"So am I," Yarrowclaw stubbornly put in.
The nursery remained silent for a long while, with the exception of Petalwhisker's noises of pain and effort. Eventually, however, the kit emerged from her body. Patchberry took it and nipped the sac it was in, then began licking its fur the wrong way. Ravenwing shook his head.
"No more kits. It's a litter of one."
Petalwhisker lay with her eyes closed, too exhausted to move or speak. Yet there were plenty of signs that she remained alive: her chest rose and fell, and the moss right under her muzzle moved slightly with each exhale out of her nose. After the kit was fully groomed, it was placed up to her stomach.
"It's weak," Patchberry confessed. "It… may not live. It seems to have an abnormally weak heart. It just happens sometimes. I'm sorry."
Petalwhisker's eyes opened a slit. "No, it'll live." She moved the kit slightly to look at its lower underbelly. "A tom," she noted quietly. "I'll call him Russetkit, for his dark ginger fur."
Yarrowclaw nodded. "Russetkit is a good name." He stepped forward to nuzzle his mate. "You did well. Thank you for bringing our son into the world."
Petalwhisker purred as she closed her eyes and fully rested her head, but Mapleshade suspected that it was more of her body's attempt to heal itself and less of her actually feeling happy.
"Just send for us if you need anything," Ravenwing meowed as he got to his paws and led Patchberry out, who looked worriedly back at his sister.
Mapleshade shifted to the side to allow them space through the entrance. She looked closer at Russetkit. "He isn't nursing," she told her daughter.
"He will," Yarrowclaw meowed for her. "Shouldn't you leave? We need some time with our son. You're hardly even his intimate family."
Mapleshade bristled. "Excuse me? I'm your mate's mother; I have every right to see your kit."
Yarrowclaw stood taller and unsheathed his claws. "Don't forget: start another fight, and you get punished."
"You got told off too!" Mapleshade growled.
"You aren't wrong," Yarrowclaw huffed. "However, I'm better at evading punishment than you are. I've mastered it."
"You don't know what sort of things I've done without consequence," she retorted. "I'm sure I could shift things in my favor if it came down to it."
"Stop fighting," Petalwhisker feebly begged.
Petalwhisker was a strong, motivated, no-nonsense she-cat who wouldn't hesitate to use each and every word that came to her mind during any situation. The fact that her voice was quiet, her tone lacked strength, and she used pleading language were true and utter signs that the kitting had taken everything out of her. Her usually blazing-with-life amber eyes were dull and half-closed with exhaustion.
Mapleshade guiltily licked a tuft of fur on her chest. "I'm sorry," she apologized to her daughter while still glaring at Yarrowclaw. "You know how my temper gets. Now that you're weakened, I'll try harder to keep it under wraps."
"So will I," Yarrowclaw growled, although both mollies knew that the fiery warrior would never reach the point of even being able to slightly control his anger.
"I would like to be left alone," Petalwhisker requested.
Yarrowclaw huffed. "I'll come back soon," he told her before shoving his way out of the den.
"I know you don't like him, but please try to get along," Petalwhisker told her mother before said she-cat left.
Mapleshade hesitated. "He's a terrible tom, Petalwhisker! I don't know why you chose him."
Petalwhisker didn't reply, likely because she was too tired to argue.
Mapleshade sighed, "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'll try to tolerate him, but no promises." She stepped out of the nursery.
It was three days after the kitting, at dusk. Mapleshade sat beside her daughter and son while Petalwhisker cried silently. Russetkit had died from heart failure. As Patchberry had predicted, he was born with too weak of a heart and died when it had failed to perform correctly. Yarrowclaw was absent from camp altogether. The calico warrior suspected that rather than mourning over the loss of his son, he was simply upset that he had no one to carry on his blood.
Ravenwing had just sent Russetkit to StarClan, and the vigil had begun. Mapleshade wasn't as depressed as Petalwhisker over the loss, but she was still distraught. She hadn't gotten the chance to know her youngest kin, and he was yanked away from them all because of an unfortunate birth defect. This is why she stayed with her daughter, and likely why Patchberry sat with them as well. Nettlebreeze did as well, as Petalwhisker was his former apprentice and he wanted to support her, but no one else did. Just them four.
It was a while before Yarrowclaw arrived in camp again. Mapleshade looked over and made eye contact, silently daring him to go back to the den without sitting vigil or even paying respects. He scowled at her and padded over. He shared tongues with his dead son for the first and last time, and he took the empty spot next to Petalwhisker. The five cats sat there until dawn arrived.
Rabbitfur and Bloomheart emerged from the elders' den to bury Russetkit, but Petalwhisker stood with a shake of her head. "I'll bury him," she told them.
The two toms exchanged a glance, but both nodded and went back to their nests.
Mapleshade got to her paws. "You're sure?" she asked her daughter. "I could help if you…" She trailed off, sensing the younger she-cat's silent desire to be alone. "...I'll leave you now. I'll just be in the warriors' den if you need me."
Petalwhisker didn't follow.
The next day at sunhigh, Mapleshade sat in camp grooming her pelt. Petalwhisker was out on a border patrol, having demanded to return to warrior duties immediately after her son's tragic passing. The calico warrior suspected, or rather knew, that she was trying to distract her mind away from grieving by working. Yarrowclaw had grown visibly distant from his mate, avoiding Petalwhisker in camp, as if trying to silently tell her that he was only with her because he wanted her to bear his kits.
And now that Russetkit was gone, why should he love her?
Mapleshade's muzzle scrunched up into a scowl at the thought of Yarrowclaw and his terrible opinions. She would die if it just meant that Petalwhisker could see the golden tom for what he was: a selfish, rude cat who only wanted to purge his biological urges and have kits. Why had she loved him for as long as she had? Mapleshade just couldn't understand, not at all. Ignoring the fact that he split things off after leading her on, even Appledusk had the sense to see past kits and love her for who she was.
Mapleshade looked up from her grooming to see a bloody, wounded cat dash into camp. It was Nettlebreeze, who was on the RiverClan border patrol with Petalwhisker, Sweetbriar, and Deerpaw. "RiverClan attacked!" he yowled. "We need backup!"
Beetail jumped up from where he sat with Dawnfeather. He looked to her, "You, Mapleshade, Mistpelt, and Deerdapple will come with me."
The named cats went to him and followed him out, while Nettlebreeze went on ahead. Mapleshade jumped into the fray as soon as they arrived. She pounced on the deputy Spiketail, allowing Petalwhisker to get up and attack Appledusk nearby. Silently cheering on her daughter, Mapleshade focused on Spiketail and struck at him with straight precision.
After a short while of fighting and her rage only growing, Mapleshade landed a good hit on his throat. Spiketail hacked and tried flailing his forearms at her, but he collapsed. She'd killed him without thought, and it felt… good. Oh dear StarClan, it felt incredible! That's what you get for attacking my daughter, she thought, grinning triumphantly, the chaos of battle consuming her mind.
"Take this, you dirty ThunderClan scum!" a familiar tom's voice shouted some distance behind her.
Mapleshade had seen him earlier, and she recognized the voice: Appledusk. A pit in her stomach formed and grew when she remembered who he'd been fighting last she knew. She whipped around to see Appledusk holding down her ginger-and-white tabby daughter and clenching his teeth tightly on her throat. The young warrior struggled underneath him, before feigning any effort. Her eyes glazed over.
Mapleshade froze before launching herself at him. She striked without thinking, all of her battle knowledge abandoned and moved to make way for nothing but pure strength. She fought, taking all of his blows without bothering to dodge or counter. Soon she felt someone grab her scruff and pull her away with surprising ease. She kept trying to pull away and keep going after Appledusk, who fled with his Clanmates. When the RiverClan warriors could no longer be seen, she was let go.
"Enough," Beetail, who'd been holding her back, meowed. "I know you want to hurt him, but-"
"But nothing!" Mapleshade yowled. She took a deep breath and began to sob. "My daughter is dead! You don't know what it's like!"
Beetail looked to the ground. "That isn't quite true. Not anymore."
Mapleshade, her cheeks wet with tears, looked up to see that there was another body other than Petalwhisker's: Deerpaw's. However, she couldn't properly reflect on his loss at the moment; her mind was overwhelmed with emotion. She began hyperventilating uncontrollably, yet sobs wracked her body at the same time. Her body tried to cry without breathing, which made her choke.
"It's time to go," Nettlebreeze meowed gently to her.
Mapleshade realized only then how long she'd sat there, sobbing out her grief. Everyone had already gone back to camp, carrying both corpses. The ginger warrior had stayed there, waiting for her. She would be able to think about his kindness later, but not now. She followed him back to camp, still crying. She didn't even notice when Patchberry tended to her wounds, singing quietly to her as she used to do to him in a feeble attempt to comfort both her and himself.
Thoughts absorbed her all through the night as she sat vigil with Yarrowclaw, Nettlebreeze, Frecklewish, and Patchberry. Mapleshade didn't notice when morning came, nor when she was gently nudged back to her nest by Frecklewish and Nettlebreeze. She had stopped crying by this point; it could no longer help with the grief she felt.
Mapleshade slept for the rest of the day, not rising a single time. She wasn't bothered by a single cat. When she got up the dawn after, she noticed that Dawnfeather and Beetail were both a mess as well. However, her mind still refused to acknowledge their loss. It was too focused on Petalwhisker.
Mapleshade had lost Larchfang, as he'd become a member of RiverClan, and she lost Petalwhisker after she was killed by them. Two kits, gone. This was too much for her to bear. The thought crossed her mind of giving up, of trying to join her daughter in StarClan. She lingered on it for a long while before deciding not to. She would only cause pain to her still-living Clanmates.
That same dawn where she noticed Dawnfeather and Beetail's grief, Mapleshade left camp. She kept travelling south. Soon she reached the markers that separated ThunderClan territory from rogue land, and yet she kept going. For a long while she walked, not stopping for even a moment. She collapsed by what seemed to be a barn around half past dusk. She could smell a tom and see a black-and-white cat closer to the Twoleg building, but she was unconscious before she could say a word.