Closed Thread Whispers Beneath the Willow

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume ducked his head beneath the nursery’s bramble curtain, the scent of moss, milk, and dust brushing against his nose. He was already speaking before his full form was inside. An ear flicked, the type of flick that one could assume one could have been speaking ill of someone else. He set down a neatly bundled collection of herbs beside the nest.

"Lilyriver." His tone was clipped, but not unkind. Brisk out of necessity, not annoyance. The medicine cat’s pale cream pelt was slightly wind ruffled, and his blue eyes were sharp with attention as he swept his gaze over the queen. There was a curiosity there, an excitement at the first time something like this was happening under his water. Frosteyes had drilled him front and back on the event, and procedure if necessary...

"Breathing good, that's a start." He circled her once, giving her flank a careful, practiced glance before resting one paw against the edge of her nest. "Tell me exactly what you’re feeling. Pressure? Pain? Any tightness yet?" His tail flicked lightly, the very tip twitching with focus as he nosed through the herbs. "We’ll be here a while, so I hope you like the sound of my voice."

I am shaped by the trials I refuse to surrender to.

✧✦✧༄༅:･ﾟ🕊️･ﾟ:༅༅༄✧✦✧

Lilyriver’s gaze flicked over to Nettleplume, she didn’t really say much of anything at first, but her mouth hung open with heavy but steady breaths. “Exactly what I’m feeling? A lot of discomfort, my belly has been having little spasms every now and again, I feel them moving. That has happened rather recently however, the most recent one was just before you came in” she explained. She didn’t intend to waste the medicine cat’s time as he was going to be for a while anyway. And what was small talk going to do for a moment like this?

Her hind paws gave a slight twitch as she lay with them splayed out to her side, the muscles tense, yet she didn’t seem at all stressed or worried. If Nettleplume had concerns he would have said something beforehand. But he didn’t mention any danger that Lilyriver wasn’t already aware of, so she continued to simply let her body work this out.

“No urge to push just yet, assuming that will come along later on though” she added her tongue lolled out for a brief pant before she drew it over her whiskers and shut her mouth again. She had trust in Nettleplume, whatever he did as a medicine cat wouldn’t be incorrect, especially when it mattered most “just some pressure for now. And for your information” she drew on, a tingling sensation rolled down her back then caused the tip of her tail to flick.

“I’ve gotten quite used to your voice over the past moon or so”

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume listened with a measured stillness, the faintest narrowing of his eyes showing he was processing every word. His ears flicked again, the same quiet, analytical gesture that had marked him since kithood like he was cataloguing symptoms instead of feelings.

"Spasms and pressure… movement recent…" He murmured to himself, voice barely audible as he adjusted one of the herb bundles with a paw. "Sounds like you’re early in the process. No urge to push yet."

He turned back toward her with a focused look, eyes searching hers not for fear, but to confirm what he already suspected. She was calm, at ease with what her body was doing. That would make things easier for both of them.

At her final comment, his whiskers twitched faintly with amusement. "Then you’ll be pleased to know you may be in for several uninterrupted hours of my company."

He reached again for the herbs, carefully separating a few dried raspberry leaves while side glancing at the soon to be kitting she-cat. "I have plenty to help with the kitting itself - herbs to encourage contractions, or herbs to keep you strong...You’re doing fine, Lilyriver. They’ll be here soon."

I am shaped by the trials I refuse to surrender to.

✧✦✧༄༅:･ﾟ🕊️･ﾟ:༅༅༄✧✦✧

Though Lilyriver knew that she was doing something right, hearing it from the medicine cat's mouth felt like more than a confirmation, almost like he was stating it before she had it in her thoughts. Another spasm rolled her belly and she clenched her teeth slightly at the discomfort, but it wasn't enough for Lilyriver to grunt or hiss.

After the movement in her belly stood still for the moment, she smirked at the cream tom, she knew there was no point in being negative, that wouldn't help now, there a few situations where it does. "Hmm, good to hear" she replied, placing her head on her paws as she allowed her breathing to steady. 

"What should I expect? When everything happens" She asked, it wasn't out of the blue, at least she hoped it wasn't, she would have liked to think many queens in the past had questions about what to do, they'd have to continue with what their body lead, that is what was needed to get these kits into the world "You've not experienced a kitting before, not by yourself, I know this. But surely Frosteyes would have told you something" she stated, not trying to be forceful or even bitey, she just needed to be forward, that is what she had found that Nettleplume preferred, at least from her experience with him.

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume’s ears twitched once more as her spasm passed, his eyes flicking briefly to the ripple across her belly. His tail tip gave a soft curl at her smirk. He welcomed her steadiness more than he’d say outright. At her question though, he paused. Not from uncertainty, but the weight of it. Lilyriver wasn’t wrong, and he respected her for asking it plainly.

"Frosteyes was there for every kitting we treated. I watched, I asked questions, I memorized every twitch of her ear when something shifted. Not to mention her lectures and hypotheticals..." He adjusted one of the moss linings near her side, not because it was out of place, but because it gave him something to do with his paws while he explained.

"You’ll start to feel tightening more regularly...stronger, longer. That’s when the urge to push comes. When it does, follow it. Your body will know more than I can tell you in words." He hesitated a beat, then added. "It’ll be painful. But I’ll be here the entire time. I’ll make sure there’s no bleeding we can’t handle..."

His gaze met hers again, calm but edged with the bright flicker of resolve. "I know I’ve never done this alone before. But I’ll see you through it. I swear it by StarClan."

I am shaped by the trials I refuse to surrender to.

✧✦✧༄༅:･ﾟ🕊️･ﾟ:༅༅༄✧✦✧

Lilyriver didn't mind the closeness of Nettleplume's paws on the moss nest, sometimes cats needed to have some movement in their bodies when they spoke, but for Lilyriver, she didn't have much choice. She let out a sharp breath at her own joking thought before kneading her own paws on the moss and shutting her eyes to take in her surrounding a bit more, the subtle sounds around her, her ears focused on all of them. It was something that clearly eased her breathing, not like she needed that much.

But what truly grounded her in the moment, oddly enough, was Nettleplume's voice, plain and simple, telling her exactly what was going to happen and when to expect it, she didn't say it in the moment but Nettleplume speaking to her meant more than she thought it would.

"Seems you have this handled... already" Lilyriver's voice became lightly forced as her belly tightened, instead of just making a face, she let out a growl, the discomfort was surely becoming more than just that now, but she had no urges yet, she knew she would soon. After a few heartbeats of discomfort, a little more than there had been, she eased herself before opening her icy blue eye again.

Lilyriver cooled her breathing making it as steady as she could again, she didn't want to make it harder than it already was, for herself or Nettleplume. "There wasn't as much space between that, not as much space as before" she noted aloud, mostly to herself, but she knew that Nettleplume could use the information for the greater good in all of this. "You're a good cat Nettleplume, albeit you're very forward... nothing wrong with forward. This is a first for both of us you know, we both have to keep our faith in StarClan for this"

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume watched her without interrupting, sensing the shift in her breathing, the way her paw flexed against the moss. An ear twitched at her growl. He leaned forward slightly, checking the movement across her belly, then glanced to her face, registering every flicker of discomfort.

"You’re right." He meowed softly, voice quieter now, as though acknowledging the gravity that was finally settling around them. "The gaps are shortening. It’s beginning to build."

He reached to adjust a small leaf of borage nearby—half a gesture, half a check on their supplies—then looked back to her when she called him forward. His whiskers twitched faintly at that.

"Forward is better than fumbling." He said with some contempt. He couldn't help to think of his timid littermate. "You wouldn’t have trusted me if I was meek about this." Then, more seriously, his gaze steady and sure. "You and your kits are my top priority."

I am shaped by the trials I refuse to surrender to.

✧✦✧༄༅:･ﾟ🕊️･ﾟ:༅༅༄✧✦✧

Lilyriver's breath came low, sharp as the pressure gripped her again, her claws flexing deep into the moss. When it passed, she lifted her chin, eyes flashing with that same fire she'd carried since the day she first walked into the nursery with her tails high and her expectations possibly higher.

"Hmph. I'd say you'd be crowfood if you came in here timid" she rasped, her voice laced with discomfort and a little bit of pain but there was no bite to it, remained as steady as every. "I'd chew you up and spit you out before the first contraction" she added, her voice chiming with a joking lilt. Yet sill, there was something in her eyes as she looked at Nettleplume, something more than defiance. Trust, hard-earned and rarely given, flickered beneath the grit.

She rolled her shoulders back, forcing another breath through gritted teeth. She wasn't going to wail like a timid kit squealing from the nursery when being frightened while exploring the camp, he wouldn't get that out of her. "I'm not going to just lay back and wail. Not a chance" her ears flicked, her words taut with effort, she felt she was strong, but there was always the off chance... "But, if I roar, you don't flinch. You don't hesitate. You stay right where I can see you"

"I've fought harder than this to stay standing Nettleplume. But I will not lie to you, I'm scared." she admitted, more than she cared too much to, but it was out now, she just hoped the clan was pre-occupied with their own business to listen. "Not for me. For them" her voiced dropped, quieter, rawer. "So whatever comes, you keep your paws steady. You see them through" A pause. Then she gave him a smirk, wearing but still unmistakably Lilyriver. "And if I do start wailing? Don't tell a soul eh Nettleplume?"

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume didn’t smile...not quite. He watched her with something quiet in his eyes, something more than his usual guarded wit. He had always respected Lilyriver’s grit. He was a listener, and reacted to her speech with brief inflections of his body language. He leaned in slightly, his broad paw resting near hers in the moss, close but not crowding. It was a silent anchor.

"I won’t flinch." His tone didn't waver. The edges of it were edged with steel, calm and certainty. "I’ve faced worse fears in silence. But this?" He glanced briefly toward her belly, where life stirred beneath the taut surface. "You won't face it alone." There were no ceremonial phrases, no flowery comforts. Just truth.

I am shaped by the trials I refuse to surrender to.

✧✦✧༄༅:･ﾟ🕊️･ﾟ:༅༅༄✧✦✧

Lilyriver took a glance over at Nettleplume, her icy blue eyes filling up with the determination of a cat who would be willing to die for her clan, she wasn't scared for herself, she knew death was a risk of this, especially with her age. But determination overthrew her risk, if she died bringing these kits into the world, at least she brought them into the world. That is what mattered

With a breath, Lilyriver felt her belly pulse, but not in the uncomfortable way that it once did, this time there was a rush of pain that made her grit her teeth and let out a low hiss followed by a growl. "You better be ready Nettleplume. They're coming"

[Skip to Kits]

The white she-cat nudged two nearly symmetrical kits to her belly to suckle, both with a pelt as white as her own and both fairly the same in size. "That is all of them" she murmured, mostly to herself before moving to clean each of them with various affectionate licks. "A she-kit and a tom-kit" she added, her tail curled around the two as she glanced over to the cream ticked medicine cat.

"You're a fine medicine cat" she stated "do not take that as just words either, I mean that as more than a compliment, that is truth." she added, her voice sharp but honest, yet there was something in her voice that was tired, exhausted. "The she-cat I want to be named Skykit, the tom I'd like to be named Galekit, go tell Boldstar they're here"

For a moment she stared at the kits, blind and deaf but perfect, perfect because they were here, they were alive, that is what mattered "Welcome to RiverClan kits"

rise from the smoldering pyre of wormwood and weeds
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Nettleplume lingered for a moment longer. He watched Lilyriver breathe, slow and raw, and the two tiny kits nestled against her belly like pale stones washed up by the tide. Their pelts matched hers, but they were smaller than anything he’d ever seen.

Skykit. Galekit.

His ears twitched faintly at the names, committing them to memory with the same reverence he gave to herbs and omens. Life, now, had names. At Lilyriver’s praise, he gave no smug smile, no quip, just a faint breath through his nose, like a sigh he wouldn’t let rise. "I’ll tell him." He said. His voice was quiet, but firm, as if giving weight to the moment. "And I’ll make sure the Clan gives you the peace you deserve tonight."

He took one last look at the scene: her tail curled around them, the way her head dipped protectively, the flicker of pride she tried to hide in the weariness of her eyes. Then he turned and padded for the den entrance, brushing aside the curtain of reeds with the gentle care of a cat carrying precious knowledge. Already bracing to find Boldstar and ready to speak the names of RiverClan’s future.