Everlasting Love (Stormwind)

Willowheart twitched, side-eyeing the feather warily. That was the first time the feather had moved since it had landed on the stone. It had stayed there even with other gusts of wind.

Oakfoot turned towards Emberleaf, giving the pretty She-cat a thankful smile for reading his mind and reassuring him. Mossflower’s strong. She can handle a few more furballs.

In the meantime, a sudden breeze shifted the feather from its small alcove in the medicine den where Willowheart had stored it, blowing the feather onto the medicine den floor.

“I’m sure your mother will be fine,” Emberleaf said gently, having caught his glance.

Oakfoot’s eyes brightened at the news, though the glint in his green depths was softened significantly. when Emberleaf added that one of the kits had been born already dead. “It’s good that the other two are healthy, though.” The tom smiled softly, glancing over at his sleeping mother and his affectionate father sitting beside her. I hope everything goes alright with her kitting. It was clear what was on the handsome Tom’s mind as he glanced towards his parents and away from his friend for a moment.

"She just gave birth," Emberleaf mewed, her gaze flicking back to the nursery. "Three of them, but one was stillborn."

Oakfoot flicked his ears towards the nursery, assuming Emberleaf had just been checking in on the queen as one of the few warriors who had been in camp. “How’s Honeypelt doing?” The tom asked, head tilted curiously.

Duststorm purred, standing before Mossflower. He decided not to bother her outright and instead sat down, curling his tail around his paws and just watching his beautiful mate sleep.

Mossflower was asleep, laying stretched out in a patch of sunshine.

Emberleaf blinked at Oakfoot.

As she was leaving, a hunting patrol was returning. Oakfoot and Wolfheart has joined Duststorm on the hunt.

Duststorm eagerly sought out his mate, his good eye glowing.

Oakfoot spotted Emberleaf leaving the nursery and set his prey down before heading there.

Emberleaf dipped her head and quietly left the den.

(*once they’re old enough.)

Honeypelt soon laid her head back down, the golden tabby clearly exhausted. “I’m going to try and rest now. Thank you, Emberleaf.”

Emberleaf blinked down at her then at the kits.

Honeypelt touched her nose to each of the kittens in turn, then moved away so that EmberleF could get a closer look if she wanted. “I’m sure they’ll love your visits to the nursery once you’re old enough,” The she-cat mewled, a sad smile crossing her face.

Emberleaf smiled, glad that the queen had accepted the name.

Honeypelt glanced down at the tiny kit with the golden yellow fur, matching her own somewhat closely. “I like it.”

Emberleaf looked down at the golden-yellow kit, thinking it over. "...Flamekit," she finally decided after several minutes of contemplation, deciding not to use either Lionkit, Yellowkit, or Goldenkit.

Honeypelt nodded. “If you want to help.” The she-cat managed a soft, tired smile once more.

Emberleaf blinked in astonishment. "You want me to name one of your kits?" She asked, feeling oddly touched.

Honeypelt lifted her tail away from her surviving kits so that Emberleaf could see. “I already know I’m naming this one Brackenkit,” The she-cat mewled softly, pointing to the tom who was nearly a splitting image of his father. “And I would have wanted Brackenspots’ help with the second one, but that’s something I can’t have.” The she-cat sighed softly before glancing up at Emberleaf.

“I know you like kits. How would you like to help me name him?”

Emberleaf blinked, pausing in her motion to leave. “Sure?” Hesitantly, she sat down.

“Can you stay for a moment?” Honeypelt requested, glancing up at the red calico once she made sure both of her kits were suckling hungrily from her belly.