Post by Dragon on Mar 2, 2009 23:36:16 GMT -5
Hazelfire’s quiet pacing was beginning to drive her into hyper alertness, her den seemed to small, and too stuffy. Her paws silently kneaded the ground and she felt a restlessness even her belly. She was a young cat and had no idea how to control her wandering urges. To pass the time she rapidly groomed her already sleek fur into gleaming in the moonlight.
Every sound she heard triggered her to stiffen and turn and hiss at what she thought was there. The queen slowly found a comfortable position in a nest in the leaves that littered her den. Hazelfire began to warm, and then cold and she began panting in spite of the cozy temperature of her den.
Now, no position seemed comfortable and she shifted time and time again to no avail. Then, a sudden spasm went down her stomach to the tip of her tail. She stiffened in surprise, and began instinctively licked her belly. She drew back, as another wave of discomfort swept down her frame. Hazelfire lowered her head, and made low pained sounds.
Once again she stiffened and she felt something behind her, and she stood up and weaved around to see a slimy, bloody thing. With her instincts taking over, she nipped at it and suddenly she saw a sodden shape of a kitten. Quickly, she began grooming it all over the face to clear its airway. Gently, she nudged the squirming kit toward her belly.
A small time passed by, but she could still feel movement within herself. The dry leaves crunched beneath her, and she could see the moonlight through the brambles of her den. The moon was sinking away into the horizon.
Hazelfire was just about relaxed when searing fire whipped through her body once more. Her body went rigid, and a strong movement went through her and she felt for the next of her kits. After the first, she felt as if she was an expert and she swiftly nipped the film surrounding the kit and its pink mouth gaped at her, and she couldn’t help but purr.
The kit squealed even before Hazelfire had licked its face clear. Doing the same as the first one she directed it toward the other kit. Surprisingly, the second kit was slightly larger than its smaller sibling. The queen looked over the two kits; the first one was a silvery she-kit with silky gray kitten fur, with faint darker stripes. Her younger brother was a dark ginger tabby, with a strong build even though he was still young. He emitted loud squeaks and squeals constantly.
She purred and gently nuzzled them, she no longer felt anything and she rested cheek on the cool ground, just as dawn’s new light poked its head into the peaceful forest. Her green eyes were narrowed to pleased slits, but she was exhausted from the experience. But as she could see the light plainly in the sky, a fiery agony scored its claws into her being.
Hazelfire nearly yowled in pain, at the sudden pain, but she gritted her teeth together not wanting to wake her two kits. Without disrupting her kits, she shifted herself to look behind her. Pain flicked from weak to powerful, and then it stopped. What she saw was a limp kit, lying there without any movement.
With movement, rushed my urgency she quickly began licking at the kits face with the will of Silverclan for it to still be living. Just when she thought she saw movement in the limp form, its little head lolled unnaturally when she picked up the kit. Whimpering to herself, all she had the strength to do was to move the dead kit away from her two living ones, but she could still see the tiny tom kit.
His fur was bone white, but a mark of brown broke the pure white. Hazelfire rested her head on her paws and she tried not look at the white form. All she could do now was protect her two kits. Then, just before she subsided to sleep she murmured to the ginger kitten, “You will be Loudkit.” She purred in amusement, and then she licked the silver she-kit, “And you, as graceful looking as a feather… you will be Featherkit.”
Hazelfire then, purred softly and drifted into slumber.
Every sound she heard triggered her to stiffen and turn and hiss at what she thought was there. The queen slowly found a comfortable position in a nest in the leaves that littered her den. Hazelfire began to warm, and then cold and she began panting in spite of the cozy temperature of her den.
Now, no position seemed comfortable and she shifted time and time again to no avail. Then, a sudden spasm went down her stomach to the tip of her tail. She stiffened in surprise, and began instinctively licked her belly. She drew back, as another wave of discomfort swept down her frame. Hazelfire lowered her head, and made low pained sounds.
Once again she stiffened and she felt something behind her, and she stood up and weaved around to see a slimy, bloody thing. With her instincts taking over, she nipped at it and suddenly she saw a sodden shape of a kitten. Quickly, she began grooming it all over the face to clear its airway. Gently, she nudged the squirming kit toward her belly.
A small time passed by, but she could still feel movement within herself. The dry leaves crunched beneath her, and she could see the moonlight through the brambles of her den. The moon was sinking away into the horizon.
Hazelfire was just about relaxed when searing fire whipped through her body once more. Her body went rigid, and a strong movement went through her and she felt for the next of her kits. After the first, she felt as if she was an expert and she swiftly nipped the film surrounding the kit and its pink mouth gaped at her, and she couldn’t help but purr.
The kit squealed even before Hazelfire had licked its face clear. Doing the same as the first one she directed it toward the other kit. Surprisingly, the second kit was slightly larger than its smaller sibling. The queen looked over the two kits; the first one was a silvery she-kit with silky gray kitten fur, with faint darker stripes. Her younger brother was a dark ginger tabby, with a strong build even though he was still young. He emitted loud squeaks and squeals constantly.
She purred and gently nuzzled them, she no longer felt anything and she rested cheek on the cool ground, just as dawn’s new light poked its head into the peaceful forest. Her green eyes were narrowed to pleased slits, but she was exhausted from the experience. But as she could see the light plainly in the sky, a fiery agony scored its claws into her being.
Hazelfire nearly yowled in pain, at the sudden pain, but she gritted her teeth together not wanting to wake her two kits. Without disrupting her kits, she shifted herself to look behind her. Pain flicked from weak to powerful, and then it stopped. What she saw was a limp kit, lying there without any movement.
With movement, rushed my urgency she quickly began licking at the kits face with the will of Silverclan for it to still be living. Just when she thought she saw movement in the limp form, its little head lolled unnaturally when she picked up the kit. Whimpering to herself, all she had the strength to do was to move the dead kit away from her two living ones, but she could still see the tiny tom kit.
His fur was bone white, but a mark of brown broke the pure white. Hazelfire rested her head on her paws and she tried not look at the white form. All she could do now was protect her two kits. Then, just before she subsided to sleep she murmured to the ginger kitten, “You will be Loudkit.” She purred in amusement, and then she licked the silver she-kit, “And you, as graceful looking as a feather… you will be Featherkit.”
Hazelfire then, purred softly and drifted into slumber.
