PAFP Camp live and let die // kittens

[serpentberry]

There is no amount of preparation she could've had. The discomfort continued in waves, her legs tensing beneath her body as she stubbornly worked. Wait, little ones. I have duties to attend to... She thinks, repeatedly, as she settles cats into nests and cleans their wounds. She will have to travel back to that clearing, in a day or two maybe. Many will survive without the aid of petals and leaves, but many more may appreciate the pain relief. Regardless, she presses on, ignoring the daggers of a glare that Rowan shoots into her spine. The pain they inspire runs just alongside that of her contractions, and soon enough, she is forced to rest. Her body becomes a machine of its own mindless command and Serpent, in turn, utilizes the very same limping molly to do her dirty work.

It's hours before its over. Eventually cats stopped coming by for the minor scrapes they've obtained, having been warded away either by Rowan or the now present Snake. Their presence is comforting, their soft words and awkward glances - Serpent may have joked once or twice that neither of the two will want for children after this. Regardless, as she births one, two, three little bodies into the world... she cannot help but feel so empty. The stars glittering above now watch them, but how intently? And why must her little snakelings be born tonight, and not when their father and friend return? Their first breaths, cries, excited mewls of hunger and grief... she shares them readily, however selfishly she wishes she could've shared them with a different pair.

Her tail drifts over the trio, her head raised stubbornly to watch them, even whilst exhaustion tugs her weight down. Her gaze flutters to the outside, to the sky - is the sun rising now? Where is her Hawthorne, then? The Highstones isn't that far... perhaps StarClan's business is more intense than they anticipated. She rolls her shoulders back, her nose touching the child closest to her.

"I spoke with Hawthorne before he left," she murmurs, and fatigue is terribly evident in her voice. "It'd be grand, don't you think, to surprise him with the name he wanted? Leaf. He said it was a boring option, but look," she motions to the mottled pelt of a thousand shades; ushers her now oldest daughter and her brother to feast their eyes upon her child (all of them, in truth, but this one to begin with.) "Do you think they were listening when they chose their fur? He must've heard his father, listened well and said, 'I know just the thing.' Oh, little Leaf. You'll be relentless, no doubt; compassionate like your father," she leans closer to her little cub, pressing a kiss to his head. "I'll give you my sharp tongue, don't you worry."

The other two do not inspire names so quickly. She has ideas - moons of this dastardly state, of course she's drummed up names. But immediately, none come to fruition. Instead she stalls, looking to Rowan and Snake, and tilting her head slightly. "Any news from Hawthorne? Has he and Juniper returned yet?" They can name the other two together. The littling of ashen and soot, with rosettes that so closely mimic his father, he may as well have stolen Hawthorne's pelt. Oh, she hopes the little burr has her lovers mismatched gaze, or at least one of those two limitless colors. And the third - the true thief among the three. He has entirely stolen from both her and his father, and she wouldn't have it any other way. He's proof of their love, of their connection and tie. As he grows he will be both the snakes in the grass as well as the soft, calmly lamb. How contradictory their trio will be...

She lets out a soft giggle, her own thoughts a mystery to those before her. "I hope they'll be home soon," home, for that is where they are now. Her kittens are the first born ThunderClanners, she realizes - though she still yet understands what that means. Continuations of Fray's bloodline, in her mind still likely to succeed their father once he grows old and poor in health.

[ adults tags: @Water Snake @rowanpaw , eventually @juniper
kitten tags: @Leafkit @thistlekit @DessertDingo ]
[ reminder that this canonically happens the night of the battle (dec 7th!) juniper will be naming thistle and snake will be naming dingo's kit! once this is done, the kits will be jumped to roughly 1 moon of age (whilst maintaining that bday) ]

 

[thistlekit]

The chilled air that strikes their damp pelt peals a cry from the rosetted newborn. A breath of life filling little lungs and escaping with vigor and power. Their legs unfurl in shock, the space around them so much larger than what they had come to know. Kick, kick. Movement is experimental — the way they roll and wriggle until bumping into something solid and warm.

Their nose twitches at the inviting scent.

Instinct takes over as the unnamed kitten's howls dampen to squeaks, their splayed front paws finding purchase against their mother's belly. They draw ever closer to the beacon of warmth and sweetness, feeling the fur on their back become fluffed and dried under the tender care of Serpent, and finally latch onto her belly to nurse.

Long forgotten is the bite of the air and the fear of the unknown. The newborn finds contentment as they fill their stomach to near bursting before drifting off to sleep, snuggled against their two littermates, unaware that the very blood running through their veins has watered the ground to highstones and the stolen rosettes upon their downy coat will belong to them and them alone.

 

[rowanpaw]

Rowan steps forward at Serpent's request, chest tightening as she looks at the little bundles of pelt, one of them now named. "Leaf is perfect," she purrs, her nose touching Serpent's ear.

She looks back down at the little beings lying at the molly's stomach, swallowing painfully. What were they thinking about? Do they know how lucky they are to have a mother like Serpent, who'd do anything for them, who's– who's healthy, and to have not just her, but Hawthorne too. With another tightening of her chest, she remembers the conversation they'd had before Hawthorne had gone to the highstones.

Rowan was part of this family now too. Both her and Maple. They were as lucky as the kits, perhaps even luckier– they'd gotten a second chance at a family, a proper family. Two parents who would be there for them, instead of just one who was barely there at all before dying.

And she was going to have siblings again, many little siblings to play with and take care of, siblings who she would let no harm come to– if this was her second chance from the stars, she would not give them up easily. Her littermates had been taken from her by kittencough, but no such thing would happen to these kits.

"They're so small," Rowan whispers, "so fragile." She touches Leaf gently with her nose, the little one warm and still damp. "You are going to be so, so loved. No harm will come to you. I promise."

// ooc: context to happen over here but the tldr/we did not write it yet whoops is that before hawthorne goes off to highstones he and serpent adopt rowan and maple

 

[Leafkit]

im surrounded by the souls of those i've lost

i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed

He is named first, and unbeknownst to him the only one of the kits who will have been named by their father in a way; as indirect as it was. The tiny mottled patchwork of autumnal leaves and earthen hues gives a shrill squeak of a mewl - as high and mighty as a lion's roar to his ears, a defiant cry making clear his stance on matters: it was cold. The long furred kitten wriggled insistently closer, clambering over his siblings with little care or regard to what heads and paws he squished beneath him in his goal to be as close to the warmth and the sweet scent of their mother as possible. Only then did he calm, small pink tongue flicking out to latch onto the ground in a misguided effort to nurse and only when he'd gotten a mouth of dirt did he shriek and redirect his efforts to that actual source of sustenance. His feeding is interrupted by another voice, a nose to his head that briefly distracts him at his task and he wails in kitten outrage before the sheer force of his own noise making tires him out enough to slump into a umber spotted heap of silence and sniffling as he drifted off to sleep mid-shout.

x

what if the greatest threat we'll find across the sea...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx..is me?

• 

  Leafkit

  
  — kitten of thunderclan
  — He/Him
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  — Chocolate tortoiseshell with olive green eyes.
  #ba7a5d
  

 

[juniperstar]

juniper

there should be celebration...

the heavens should hear cheer and song of the newborns who take their first breaths on this early morning. the sun has barely had the time to peek against the horizon, a fresh day to spend relishing in promise for the future. he should be here. instead it is the shadow-dappled figure of a friend that parts the thin bramble shield that forms Serpent's shelter... not a two-toned gaze honeyed with a new father's warmth and excitement. the moss creeps from the floor, hollowed as what decorates the trees in frozen decor... choked by the sight of such tiny figures nestled so close to ember-dusted coals.

they were here...

her mouth runs dry- it would not have been easier if she were still round with potential, that's what she tries to tell herself. "Oh, Serpent..." her voice comes out in hardly a whisper, "They're..." here. beautiful. without a father. her ears fold into flattened planes, teeth gritting in painful uncertainty for how to continue. how to ruin this moment... to drop the news like poison down her throat, press her paws into her maw and hold it there while she squirmed, forced to swallow it. forced to choke on a new truth.

"They're perfect..." down to the stripes they steal from their sire... the shaded beauty of their dam... any chance she had at withholding tears is dashed, guilt laden in every gorge formed by droplet paths. they were perfect but nothing about this moment was.

──✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮

• juniperstar leader of thunderclan nine lives remain

  ignore me

 

[serpentberry]

His cheering and crying, as miniscule as it can be from the maw of someone so new, is met with droning purrs and a loving sweep of her tail. She draws Leaf closer, draws his siblings with him, and watches quietly as he nurses. Rowan, too, is eager to sit and simply be alongside her new little siblings. It's odd; to be so freshly a mother, yet have a daughter who can speak and think all of her own. Perhaps it's a gift of the stars, somehow. Do the dead offer gifts to cats like them?

"Oh, Ro," she laughs, tired as she does, "kittens are far sturdier than you think. Trust me, you'll see them bonk heads so often, you'll think they've swapped brains a few times..."

Serpent's attention is drawn away, a quiet chatter outside of her den. It's long, distantly morose, and the new mother flicks her gaze between her brother and Rowan, as if asking one of them to depart and check on the camp. Surely, Sable and his foolish many haven't found their sanctuary so soon? Maybe if they did, the quiet mumbling means they're pleading to the paws of whomever Hawthorne left in charge. Maybe it's Ghost or Hazel, or maybe even Copper...

Eventually, with her eyes tempted to draw close, she hears rustling close by. Leaves part and give way to a good friend, who's very fur seems to glisten with the morning light. Her expression is taut and unsure, though Serpent greedily overlooks it. It's been a long night for them all; Juniper is just as tired as the rest of them. "Aren't they?" she murmurs, and her head slowly falls to her paws. Sleep drags warm claws through her gently tousled fur, but she holds tight to the waking world. She looks to the molly's sorrowful gaze, her own half-lidded, worry-free and happy.

"Where's Hawthorne?"

 

[Rattlekit]

RATTLEKIT, Thunderclan Kit // He/They // #ffa34c
Smoke torbie / Chocolate lynx point chimera with low white and amber-yellow eyes
Son of THORNSTAR and SERPENTBERRY, sibling to LEAFKIT and THISTLEKIT
Just a little baby guy at the moment!

---

The tiny scrap of mismatched fur would take in his first gulps of air greedily-- It was cold and a shiver rattled him but it also breathed life into the tiny body of the kit and gave him enough energy to join in on the hungry mewling his siblings had already started. Giving off a small squeak of complaint when something clambered over him the kitten would then start to try and move himself soon after, flailing his tiny front paws out ahead of himself to reach for the source of the sweet scent that reached his little pink nose that twitched slightly every time he tried to scent. The sweet scent was of course his own mother and cuddling up closer to her brought a warmth and comfort like no other, one capable of instantly soothing the kittens cries for attention and food.

Just like his siblings he too nursed at their mothers side, feeling her draw the three of them in close and the softness of her tail that was lovingly swept around them. The sound of her purring mixed with the mew of voices of cats he couldn't yet see and a now full belly was starting to slowly lull the little scrap to sleep, and he would nuzzle his nose deep into his mothers warm fur while snuggling up beside her and his siblings, curling up as much as possible to retain as much warmth as his small body could muster while also hopefully providing some warmth to his sibling and mother as well. Blissfully unaware that his first peaceful slumber would soon be followed by the dreadful news of the violent way in which his father had been taken away from them. The father he would now never get to meet.

 

[Water Snake]

Water Snake has shadowed his sister all night, keeping himself busy with petty chores and close surveillance of her, but now he keeps clear of Serpent for most of the… proceedings. He paces half a fox length from her, glaring at anyone that dares to approach with poison-green eyes. His tails shivers with antsy energy and his claws dig into the soft ground; uneasy with Serpent's state, with Hawthorne's absence, with--

A first shrill meowl pierce the night and he whirls around, narrowed eyes growing wide. His sister lies curled around three squirming shapes, wan and soft-eyed with exhaustion. Three kittens. His three little niblings. Something lodges into Snake's throat that tastes of panic and wonder and he chokes on his words for a moment, stupidly thinking: they are so small. How are we going to protect them? Hawthorne is bigger than he is by a wide margin, but sheer bulk will not make the owls less ravenous, the deathberries less easily found and eaten. For one silly, anxious second, he wonders if he could make it so that Serpent would stay curled around them for a few more moons while the rest of them endeavored to keep her and the kits fed.

Then she speaks and the shock dissipates somewhat, allowing him to regain his composure.

"Leaf? Perhaps you ought not to wait for him to return before naming the rest of them -- who knows what else he will come up with."

But his jest falls flat as he gazes at the tiny bundles of the fur, voice trailing off. Leaf does look quite like the sun-dappled shadows of leaves on the forest floor… He comes a little closer, nose stopping a whisker's short of touching their damp fur. They look like one strong nudge could knock them over, and he does not want them to ever be knocked over by anything in this world or the next.

Instead he goes to stand next to Rowan, purring deep in his chest at the young molly's claim. No harm indeed--they would all make sure of that. All of them would be safe and loved, though he half-cringed at the thought of the bland names Hawhtorne would bestow upon his two remaining kits. There is truly no accounting for taste. To the one he almost touched he whispers:

"I will try to make them give you a good, proper name, like Snake or Scale, do not worry."

He wants to make her laugh.

"No, no news yet, but it will not be long before they return,"

he reassures his sister. He would offer to go looking for Juniper and Hawthorne, but truly nothing could pull him away from his last remaining sister at the moment.

Juniper arrives like a ghost. He turns his glare on her before noticing who she is--and then his moment of softening turns to dread as he notices her solitude. Surely Hawthorne would not have let himself be waylaid with his mate in the state she is. And what could have Juniper looking so… sad?

Water Snake is prone to paranoia. This time he tries to convince himself it is not warranted, even as he repeats with a slow, cautious tone:

"Where is he?"

ooc Information

• ooc: —

• WATER SNAKE — HE/HIM･ 23 MOONS ･ COLONY CAT ･ PENNED BY @Kangoo

  A thin, short furred chocolate tabby with bright green irises and a scar over his right eye.

 

[THUNDERFLASH]

In part, he had been kicked out of the den for the kitting- which was just fine. The wound on his side was slow-healing, but he wasn't bleeding anymore, the cobwebs stretched sticky and thick keeping him nearly motionless. Ghost had sat near him nearly the entire time Serpent was.. busy, another thing he had found slightly weird. Relieving, though, to have someone so lethal watching his flank. And all the while, Serpent had brought new life to light, and all had gone well. Relieving there, as well. Joy had been brief, though. When Juniper had arrived without Hawthorne, things had gone from fine to worse. His words, sharp, nearly accusing echoing across camp and burying into Juniper like an arrow. Thunder's baby blues watched Juniper approach and pass him, stepping into the den.

Water Snake's words didn't go unheard- a distinct shiver went down his spine, ears flattening backwards. Truthfully, Thunder hadn't gone very far from where Serpent had holed herself up, under threat from the new caretaker herself. Baby blues stared out towards the twilight sky, lifting to where sunlight was barely brushing their camp, a frown twisting his mouth downwards. It was not his torch to bear, not his burden to throw at Serpent, and yet, his heart ached for the new caretaker, for the very cat he wanted to make sure was never hurt. After all, she had saved his life, teased him, acted like a friend.

So his friend was about to have her heart ripped out. Thunder's ears flattened against his head, baby blues squeezing shut. He didn't care if eyes were lain upon him as tears made themselves known, as his teeth grit and head tilted downwards. He only cared that the cat truly to blame would be killed. A grimace spread across his face, eyes opening to turn towards the entrance of camp. I have claws for your throat, Sable. For each and every one of your followers. Thunder's thoughts knocked around his skull.

___________________ YOU'VE GOT MY BODY ☆ FLESH AND BONE, YEAH ___________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• THUNDERFLASH he/him, thunderclanner, twenty moons.
  ☆ a sh/lh chocolate tabby with low white and stunning baby blue eyes. stands of average height with a 'mohawk' and spiky-shaped mane.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.