Chapter #11 The Little Ones -
Blackrose bounded away from the Thunderpath, Mousefur close behind. The dusky brown she-cat trying to keep up. Blackrose weaved through the bracken and bramble, as she ran, dead leaves and twigs flew behind her. She padded up to the gorse tunnel quickly and Cinderpelt caught her eye. She nodded for the dark gray crippled-legged she-cat to follow her as she slipped into the nursery, Mousefur following. It looked like the apprentices laid out new moss just in time. The dark she-cat fell over onto it with a thump and started to breath heavily. Pain shot through her like lightning.
"I know it hurts, Blackrose, your going through labor right now" Cinderpelt said watching the she-cat with awe.
Ferncloud, currently suckling her second litter and a new queen Fawnspots, was grooming herself while her two kits stayed close to her brown body.
Mousefur licked her daughter between the ears and grinned, "Having fun?"
"NO!" Blackrose spat. She wondered where Ravenwing was and in a heartbeat, he was next to her.
"Hello Rose," He breathed out "I must go on patrol but I will be back by morning. Take care." With that he trotted off.
Blackrose felt disappointed that her left but he would probably be back in time to see the kits be born. Suddenly she yowled in pain and the last thing she saw was Cinderpelt's horror-filled face and dark red, blood.
It was black, pitch black. The silence hurt and the scent of milk and blood hit the roof of the violet-eyed she-cat's mouth. She quickly blinked the sleep out of her eyes. It was late at night, the moon wasn't complete yet but almost was. He body was numb and she felt dizzy. She soon felt herself coming back and warmth was all around her. Small shadows tugged at her belly, full of fresh milk. The blood stained moss was changed while the scarred queen was sleeping and new, dry moss was upon the nursery floor. A small bed of moss on a large leaf held a bit of water which Blackrose licked off. She turned her head to lick her shoulder and saw her mother's head on her back. The small cat's swollen belly made her look twice her size. Blackrose grinned and looked back at the small shadows. The was glad to see none were dead and she wasn't. She was alive and so were one, two, three, four...five! That couldn't be right. She counted again and again. Five. Usually a wild-forest cat has a range of kits from one to four and sometimes most don't make it in big litters. Grinning she licked each one and passed out from all the love.
Ravenwing walked into the nursery and gasped. The blind and deaf kits squirmed helplessly as their father licked them down. He pushed his black face into his dark mate's flank and left without another word, or he might of said, "Beautiful."
