AN: So this is Sinking! Yeah, I really don't know what to say here. Oh well. Oh, and, Ereb Lor, here's yo plushie for reviewing! *hands Nightpaw plushie* and, I didn't expect praise! More like CC, but thank you very much! c:
Sinking
The slender pure white she-cat padded gracefully to where her mate was. He's so not going to believe this, she though happily as she finally reached her destination. "Breezefur!" she called, her voice light and smooth.
The dark gray tom turned around, amber eyes filled with confusion. "What is it, Swanfeather?" he asked, puzzled.
"I'm expecting kits! Your kits!" Swanfeather purred, her feathery tail flicking back and forth. She couldn't contain her excitement anymore and started purring harder. She couldn't stop herself from purring, and so did Breezefur as their tails twined.
"I'm so proud! Now go to the nursery, you'll need rest! What if a badger comes and eats you up?" Breezefur meowed, worry replacing his excitement.
Swanfeather just laughed. "Oh, you silly furball, I'll be fine, I promise! I just need to go out hunting."
Breezefur thought for a moment then sighed and ducked his head. "Fine. But be quick!"
Swanfeather flicked an ear. "I promise," she murmured before padding out of the entrance of their camp, filled with thorns and some ferns. Out of the corner of her eye, she felt like someone was watching her. She shook her head and scampered off, fear clouding her pale green eyes.
. . .
Swanfeather stared at the mouse, her tail tip flicking back and forth and her claws unsheathed. The stupid rodent didn't even pause when she bumped into a tree and some nuts fell; not even flicked its tail. The sudden clumsiness of Swanfeather was, of course, her unborn kits.
Then that was when she pounced, sharp claws ready to sink their sharpness into the tiny rodent's body. For one split second, Swanfeather heard the mouse squeak in alarm. But Swanfeather already had her claws pinned onto its neck. Its once sleek brown fur was now matted and was stained with an icky red liquid. Swanfeather gazed at her successful catch. She carefully placed her jaws on the limp, lifeless body and started digging a hole for it. She released the tight grip on her jaws and let the body stay fall uselessly onto the dirt. Kicking bits of sand onto the mouse, Swanfeather searched for some more prey. With a sudden jolt she wondered what she would be if she were that mouse. Cringing at the thought, and still uncertain about whether someone was watching her or not, Swanfeather decided to clear her mind from it and ran, her tiny paws thumping on the cold earth ground.
. . .
Swanfeather finally reached the flowing stream that told her that the WaterClan camp was not far away. She just kept on running, ignoring the fast thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat as she just raced through the trees. She realized she was in full panic mode. Her adrenaline was pounding, and she didn't know why she was this scared.
Swanfeather stopped, her ears pointing straight up as a haunting familiar voice beckoned to her, calling her name. Swanfeather turned around, seeing a glaring Icefoot at her, his icy blue gaze kept firmly on her pale green ones.
Swanfeather could feel her paws itching to run, but something told her to stop and see whatever Icefoot planned on doing to her. His malevolent eyes glimmered as Swanfeather was in some kind of trance, coming closer to him with every breath she took. For all she knew, it might be her last.
Swanpaw raced after Icepaw, her tail flicking in a taunt. "Bet you can't catch me!" she lightly teased, her eyes a playful glint.
Icekit growled playfully. "It's on," he meowed, then raced with Swankit, the two kits laughing as leaves stuck to both of their white pelts.
Swanfeather wished for the day when everything was simple, just two kits playing and basking in the sun. When they became apprentice, just about to become warriors, though, everything got complicated.
Swanpaw looked at Breezepaw's gentle amber eyes, always looking at hers. She purred, knowing that he was the right cat for her. But she felt Icepaw too, his gaze boring into hers.
Swanpaw turned at Icepaw. Seeing so much hurt in his gaze, she backed away a bit.
"I wanted to tell you that I loved you, but seeing you eyeing that other apprentice over there, who cares, really?" Icepaw meowed, his tone filled with sorrow. Swanpaw was so taken aback by his hurt, and she had no idea how far this would go.
When it was time for their ceremony, the Clan cheered as Breezefur, Swanfeather and Icefoot were named. But Icefoot didn't look happy at all. He was looking down at his paws, his ears drooped and his eyes glum. Swanfeather felt so bad for hurting him. When she glanced at Icefoot, he looked away, and Swanfeather didn't know what to do.
But she knew one thing.
Icefoot would never be the same again.
Swanfeather feared that day, that day that Icefoot would come, his hunger for revenge increasing more and more until it just burst and he couldn't contain himself anymore. Swanfeather gulped, closing her eyes, so that she will be unable to see what Icefoot would do to her.
"I've been waiting for this all day long," Icefoot snarled. Swanfeather heard his claws unsheathing, and she felt this sort of churning in her stomach.
"I'm really sorry, Icefoot. Please forgive me! I have unborn kits here, and please, I just want to see them thrive." Swanfeather pleaded, collapsing at her side and tears pouring from her eyes.
Icefoot just glared at her. "It's too late," he sneered before slashing his claws at her back and throat and pushing her into the stream.
Swanfeather managed to yell, "Help!" before plummeting down the water.
She felt icy claws rake down her spine, this time harder, but she knew it was just imagination and she was just hallucinating. Blind in an instant, she swam helplessly but couldn't because she knew her kits weighed her down. She was sinking, both emotionally and physically. The pain was too much to bear. She desperately tried to get her head up, but she couldn't, just couldn't. She felt like the burden of all StarClan was on her back.
She could hear voices, each of Icefoot's hurt mew, Her tiny kits crying desperately as they tried to see the real world, her mate calling to her, trying to wake her up, and her leader, bowing his head in defeat. She knew they were all just in her head, but the terrible things might become true, and Swanfeather gave up trying to swim.
Swanfeather couldn't take it anymore, she just blacked out. She swore she could hear yowls of cats fighting but she couldn't' make it out before dizziness overcame her in an instant.
. . .
Swanfeather opened her eyes, startled, expecting to see a bunch of starry cats waiting for her. But, no, there was the medicine cat, Roseberry, and a blurry dark gray shape that she couldn't make out. Swanfeather instinctively started coughing, spitting out a mixture of crimson and watery blue liquids. She gasped at the sight of her own blood mixed with water, and started to wail.
Roseberry seemed to calm her down, putting some black, tiny seeds in her mouth. "It's okay. Now eat these," she murmured gently, stirring warmth and life into Swanfeather's tired and fragile seemed to glow, and Swanfeather felt much better, purring.
But then a terrifying pain consumed Swanfeather's body, and she started to gasp in shock, writhing and screaming. Roseberry looked at her in confusion. "Am..I…having…my kits?" Swanfeather managed to say before rolling in pain again.
Roseberry shook her head. "N-no. Your kits are due in two moons!" she too started panicking.
Swanfeather gasped as a tiny bundle fell onto the floor. "Then…HOW COME I'M HAVING MY KITS?" screamed Swanfeather as the tiny kit started squirming. Another wave of pain consumed her body and she started screaming and gasping for breath.
Roseberry started to snap out of the daze she was having then meowed, "I'll help you!" she then got some borage leaves and instructed Swanfeather to eat some of them.
Swanfeather obeyed when another jolt of pain went through her body. When she thought she couldn't take it anymore, three tiny bundles fell on the floor. They were four in total.
Roseberry began gently nipping the sac and showing Swanfeather her kits. "What I still can't get is how these kits were born." She meowed through clenched teeth.
Suddenly she gasped and immediately fell down as if an imaginary wound gripped her belly and sliced it. Her flanks were heaving, and Swanfeather was wondering what in StarClan's name happened to the poor medicine cat.
"What is it?" Swanfeather asked though she didn't really want to know.
"It was…a sign…from StarClan…" Roseberry breathed, her green eyes wide. "They said…that…you were,,, your kits….. "
Swanfeather immediately broke down. "Oh StarClan, why?" she yelled.
"Icefoot…this has something to do with Icefoot, right?" murmured Roseberry, concern clouding her gaze.
Swanfeather sighed and told Roseberry all she knew, the cream colored she-cat thinking thoughtfully.
Roseberry looked at Swanfeather, not taking her gaze off of her. "Your kits then… have been disabled," she whispered.
Swanfeather wailed, hurt hurt and hurt. All she could think of.
When she looked outside, the sun was setting and the stars were beginning to shine. But Swanfeather gazed coldly at them.
"How could you?" she yelled as loud as she could. The stars did not reply. But soon, they came down, hundreds of them, all murmuring words of comfort and encouragement to her. Breathing a sigh of relief, Swanfeather looked at them and gapsed in shock as her sister, Appletail, came over to her.
"No matter what happens, we'll always be with you," she whispered, sending strength into Swanfeather.
She blinked at her sister. "Thank you." her voice was softer than a whisper. Appletail blinked fondly at her, her yellow eyes shining until all of them were gone. They seemed like they were still there, and Swanfeather closed her eyes, cherishing the moment.
She felt renewed—strong and secure. She would face the mangy warriors who dared try to harm her kits, and teach them a lesson when they made fun of her. This was a test—a test of how she could manage her kits being disabled. All a test. But Swanfeather smiled, feeling confident and strongly protective of her kits because this is one of the many trials she would face, and though she was sinking, she finally managed to get her head out of the water.
And with that, she turned back to the medicine den to see her kits and let them suckle at her belly.
AN: So it's late now, and time for me to go to sleep and…remember, you'll get a plushie if you just press that button down there. It's not that hard…
And yes, she gave birth at the medicine den because, you know. I know she had to go to the nursery, but she had no time for that.
Ah okay. First one to review gets um, five different plushies?