Hello Feline Friends

Treewhisker shivered softly at the feeling of the unseasonable cold. While the temperatures had been dropping today was even worse than the norm as of late, feeling more like leafbare than leaffall. The Tom padded over to Foxfury and Graypaw, having a discussion with his deputy while Graypaw tried not to listen in.

Yellowfoot mewed a “Good morning” to his apprentice, giving his own shoulder a few licks as Hazelpaw groomed herself in the morning light.

Unfortunately, just the absence of Treewhisker’s warmth woke Violetwing, the she-cat snuggling deeper into the nest in search of the warmth for a moment before blinking open her eyes with a yawn. The weather was gradually getting colder as leaf-bare approached, and it was already late leaf-fall.

Hazelpaw obediently padded over to her mentor, sitting down next to him and starting to groom her pale gray pelt, starting to wake up as she washed herself.

As for Treewhisker, the confirmation that Violetwing was carrying kits was his nightmare. While he’d made himself promise to himself that he’d raise the kits as his own, he still had the lingering doubt that he could actually treat Nightclaw’s spawn as well as he did Hazelpaw and Graypaw. For him, the upcoming kits meant that Nightclaw had won, and he hated it. The Tom gave his mate a single gentle lick to avoid interrupting her sleep and then padded out of the den.

Yellowfoot beckoned Hazelpaw over when he saw her. While he’d initially thought her morning stumble was a sign of laziness, he knew differently after mentoring The she-cat for a little over a moon, and even found it kind of cute now.

Graypaw emerged a bit later, his jaws parting in a yawn. The male had been pretty average, to say the least, and had already found himself on tick duty once after getting caught lazing around while he should have been hunting.

(Huh!)

Violetwing stayed asleep, the she-cat taking any chance to sleep now that her nightmares had abated some and it had been confirmed that she was carrying kits. Though already halfway through her pregnancy, her belly was only just starting to show.

Hazelpaw completed her customary stumble out of the apprentices’ den, blinking sleepily and yawning. While she had a good habit of getting up early, she wasn’t a morning cat, thus the morning ritual.

(Fun fact: the first you can tell a female cat is pregnant is at three weeks, when their nipples darken and become more prominent. Their bellies don’t start to swell until about the fifth week)

Treewhisker awoke, stretching out to get ready for the day, his mate in the nest beside him.

Yellowfoot was waiting outside the apprentice’s den already, unable to sleep. He had struggled to sleep all night, thinking of all of the strangeness he’d uncovered while looking into Treestar.

(Sounds good)

(Sure. Let’s go forwards about a moon?)

(Thmeskip now? And I figure you have plans to do with the kittypets, so could you maybe do it?)

Treewhisker lapped at Violetwing a few more times when she was finally asleep, then laid his head on her side, soon falling asleep himself.

Violetwing eventually fell asleep, breathing deep, even breaths.

Treewhisker didn’t mind if Violetwing chose to go to sleep. He was just happy to be this close to her again, not stopping his grooming for anything.

Violetwing started to doze off, yawning tiredly.

Treewhisker continued to purr beside his mate, switching to grooming the back of her neck, her ears, and the top of her head.

“I love you too..,” she murmured, swallowing as she remembered Nightclaw forcing her to say that to him.

Treewhisker began to purr quietly along with Violetwing, continuing his grooming. Between licks he purred out “I love you, Violetwing...”

There was a barely audible purr coming from Violetwing at this point.

Hazelpaw ruffled her fur uncomfortably. She didn’t think that she should be responsible for this, but she didn’t want to be a coward and run away either.

Yellowfoot looked down at Hazelpaw as the young apprentice stared down at her paws. “You can say no,” he offered, knowing it would be a big responsibility to ask her to undertake for his sake.

Treewhisker didn’t let up on the grooming, and moved to lay at her side, running his tongue all over her back and sides.

Hazelpaw flattened her ears and looked down at her paws.

Violetwing rested her head on her paws, still a little tense from having him over her but mostly relaxed by now.

“I’ll never hurt you like that again, Violetwing.” Treewhisker mewed determinedly between licks, holing each and every lap conveyed just how much he loved her.

“I know,” Yellowfoot replied, “But you’re the only one that saw the same thing I did.”

Hazelpaw looked startled. “But I only just became an apprentice!” She protested.

Violetwing closed her eyes, slowly relaxing as he groomed her.

Treewhisker joined her, pressing his belly to her back and beginning to groom The she-cat. Her pelt had ruffled as a result of the skirmish, and the tom groomed every part of it that he noticed right back down.

Yellowfoot glanced back out over the clearing. “I don’t know what that means, but I think we have to get to the bottom of it ourselves.”

Hazelpaw’s eyes widened in sudden realization and horror. “No, I didn’t,” she mewed worriedly, glancing back at the camp.

Violetwing stared at him silently for several moments before nodding, padding over to his nest and curling up in it.

When they arrived, Treewhisker pressed his muzzle into her shoulder fur, a soft purr emanating from the tom as he finally touched her again. “Violetwing, can we just cuddle and share tongues for a while?” He mewed, blinking and Pinning his ears back nervously. He could only hope she would accept, and forgive him for what he’d said and done.

“Did you notice, back at that twoleg den, that every cat was calling your father Treewhisker instead of Treestar?” Yellowfoot mewed, concern in his gaze.

Violetwing frowned but slipped away, heading to his den.

Hazelpaw blinked up at Yellowfoot questioningly. “Yes?”

Treewhisker flicked his head up towards his den, indicating that was where he wanted her to go with him, ready to get away from the hostile crowds outside.

When they arrived at the spot Yellowfoot had chosen, the tom turned to Hazelpaw, taking a moment to find the words to say what he wanted to say.

“...Hazelpaw?” He finally mewed.