Anxiety

Silverpaw has always been, 'strange.' She can't talk without stuttering, can't keep a conversation up. Her only friends are her mother, her brother and her best-friend. Nobody else can talk to her without getting annoyed and impatient. But maybe there's somebody out there who'd understand her.

But will they ever arrive?

"I try to speak, but nobody can hear. So I wait around for an answer to appear, and I'm tap, tap, tappin' on the glass.

Waving through A Window."

~Dear, Evan Hansen (Waving Through a Window, Ben Platt.)

It had been a cold leaf-bare night. The snow was raging down at the WindClan camp, the thundering of the snow against the ground almost drowning out the wails of a queen in pain. A snowy-white she-cat lay in her nest, shrieking in pain as she squirmed uncomfortably.

Other queens rushed around, some sheltering kits away from the birth, and other's rushing out of the den to find the medicine cat. The queen muttered curses and yowled in agony. The kits asked their mothers what was going on, curious as to why a fellow den-mate was suddenly in trouble. Some of the younger she-cats asked their mother's if the queen was okay, while the toms just wanted to know why.

The queens hushed their kits, telling them to be quiet. The queen flicked her tail back and forth, hissing and shredding at the moss as the medicine-cat burst into the den.

The medicine cat was a broad-shouldered golden tabby tom with dark-amber eyes that glinted in cold-steep concentration. His jaws were locked tightly with herbs, and he didn't even flinch at the bitter taste. He placed them beside the nest, ordering queen's back and forth.

"Snowtail, at her stomach."

"Lakefrost, ready for the kits."

"Dapplepelt, get her mate."

"Owlclaw, get her some damp-moss."

"Snowtail, push." He ordered as the snowy-white queen roared in pain, shivering and clawing at her nest. Dapplepelt rushed out of the den, in search of a certain pale-brown tabby tom as Owlclaw burst out for some fresh, damp moss.

Snowtail, a pretty white she-cat with dainty black paws, pushed down on the other queen's stomach, her own stomach slightly larger with kits. The medicine cat nodded in thanks and pressed down a bit lower on her stomach, near her under-belly and the queen chomped down on a stick a kit had been asked to bring to her.

Her teeth grated along it, fidgeting uncomfortably and letting out noises of distress and agony. She dug her long, curved claws into the moss, tearing out chunks of it and staining the tips of them green.

The medicine cat announced the first kit was almost there, but the queen barely heard as she kept hissing and slicing away at her own nest.

Lakefrost crouched at the end of the nest, waiting for the kits, ready to spring and nip their sacks and place them near to their mother. Her pale-green eyes were narrowed in concentration and preparation.

"Help." The queen shrieked as the first kit finally came out onto the moss, Lakefrost jumping forwards and nipping the sack placing it carefully beside the queen, but making sure it was far enough away so it wouldn't get hit by it's mothers jumpy shrieks. She licked it's fur the wrong way and went back to kit patrol.

"First one's here." The medicine cat told the queen softly, "And there's only one more in there."

"Is it a," The queen cut herself off with a loud hiss, clawing at the nest, "A tom or a-a she-cat?"

"Tom." Lakefrost spoke softly, knowing the pain as she herself was caring for her second litter who were trying to watch from over Dapplepelt's pelt now as she had returned from mate-search.

"T-Then," The queen yowled angrily, as if furious with her birthing, "I hope th-this next one is a sh-sh-she."

"I'm sure it will be," Snowtail purred softly, as she pushed down seeing the quakes covering the other queen's body, "Come on, Brightfrost, I'm sure you can do it."

Brightfrost nodded slowly, tail raised and bristling, "I can. For him."

The medicine cat pushed suddenly as her body was completely covered in tremors and the final kit arrived, Lakefrost nipping it's sack, licking the fur the wrong way and placing the kit gently beside it's mother, "A little she-cat." Lakefrost purred, nuzzling Brightfrost.

"G-Great." Brightspark smiled weakly, looking down at her kits with gentleness and adoration already in her eyes.

Her son was handsome, like his father. He was a pale-brown tabby and white splotched tom, and his ears were tipped with black (a trait inherited by his grandfather.) He had broad-shoulders, just like his father, and a long tail. His muzzle was squared and strong, showing only masculinity and no sign of weakness.

Her daughter was pretty and small. She was a pure white she-cat with silver spots dappled across her back and splotches everywhere (other than her back.) One of her ears had a black spot on it, a special mark. She had tiny, dainty paws that looked elegant and graceful. She had a slightly longer muzzle, but it was still thin like her mother's.

She ran her tail gently over each of her kit's. Her daughters were silky-soft and had lots of kit-fluff and her brothers was definitely rougher though it still held kit-fluff.

The two of them let out low hums of happiness as they suckled gently, and her mate barged into the den, growling that it took long enough.

She smiled at her mate, who instantly softened at the sight of his family, a thin-smile spreading across his face. His bristling fur settled, and he padded over slowly, "They're little angels," He purred to his mate quietly, "Sent straight from StarClan."

He sat down behind her back, leaning over her slightly to look at his kits. He licked each of them, both kits emitting a soft squeak and squirming against his touch. He chuckled quietly, looking his mate in the eyes.

"Perfect."

"Perfect." She agreed, leaning up to brush muzzles with him, seeing his smile widen a bit, his pure-white teeth slightly visible.

He licked her cheek and nuzzled it afterwards, humming out low purrs as he looked at his perfect family, "I love you, Brightspark." He murmured to her quietly, as the other queens tried to settle the kits.

"I love you too, Hareclaw." Brightspark reached up to lick his nose, before looking back at her kits, "What should we name them?"

Hareclaw looked at each kit, thinking of names. Brightspark smiled softly. He always looked cute when he was thinking, eyes gleaming over and lips pursing while his ear tilted to the side. His head also tilted a bit to the left.

"How about Swampkit for the tom?" Hareclaw suggested, Brightspark nodding in agreement, "And you can decide on the she-cat's name."

"Hmm . . ." Brightspark looked at her daughter closely. She was slightly smaller than some of the other kit's, not 'small' per say but definitely smaller than average. She had dainty little paws and silver-and-white splotches all over her body (other than her back, which only claimed silver-dapples.)

"Dapplekit or Silverkit . . ." Brightspark thought to herself, "Which one?"

The kit let out a tiny squeak, nuzzling closer to her. Brightspark purred softly, cooing something into her ear gently that was incoherent.

"How about Silverkit? For her silver-splotches." Brightspark ran her tail over each splotch, purring.

"I like that." Hareclaw nodded in agreement, "Silverkit and Swampkit."

"Our little kits." Brightspark nuzzled them, resting her head on the edge of the nest and looking at her kits lovingly.

Hareclaw licked her cheek, "I'll leave you with them." He whispered softly, even though Brightspark knew it was because he wasn't fond of being around too many kits. He found most of them, 'annoying' and 'bratty.'

"Goodbye, love." Brightspark purred as she closed her eyes gently, beginning to drift off into sleep.