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Post by Timescar / Strifekit on May 19, 2007 15:59:58 GMT -5
They didn’t move.
Silence.
No matter how much Timescar licked the fragile little forms lying beside her, attempting to coax then into stirring, living, there remained no response. Nothing.
Nothing…
The long-haired she-cat barely heard the gentle sympathies murmured by the small black medicine cat apprentice who had assisted her throughout her difficult delivery of the stillborns. A part of her mind refused to believe that this was real; that the kits fathered by her dear dear Wolfspirit were not alive.
The cry of pure anguish, a wail the completely split the air of the nursery and likely disturbed the other mothers there, was heartbreaking, and the queen turned away from the limp bodies, staring at the wall of the nursery with blank beautiful emerald green hues.
No…
Her eyes closed as she shut out the world, even as Umberpaw lightly nudged her flank and then begun to remove the tiny little forms from the den’s floor, padding outside to bury them.
It was the sixth trip when she heard a noise, and Timescar blinked. Umberpaw had been about to remove the last kit, when its muzzle suddenly opened and took a deep breath. Both she-cats just stared. There was no motion from the scrap of black, white, and orange fur lying there for the longest of moments, before its little body rose and fell with another breath, and it squeaked loudly! A touch of a smile lit up Umberpaw’s face as Timescar swept to the little tom, purring as loudly as she could and nuzzling and licking him before nudging him to her belly so he could nurse.
Yellow met green in a look of pure understanding between the queen and apprentice, and as Umberpaw slipped out of the nursery so to give the two some peace, Timescar realized just how lucky she was.
“Oh, my little kit. My little Strifekit…” |
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