Tear the Trees Apart: Maple's Vengeance

Chapter 2: Kits

Oh StarColony, make it stop! Maple writhed in agony and sank her claws into the dried moss.

"Relax," Ravenwing instructed, placing one paw on her rippling flank.

You try to relax with this happening to you, Maple wanted to screech at the druid, but she barely had enough breath to survive the spasm that wracked her body. She clenched her jaw and resisted the urge to sink her teeth into Ravenwing's thick-furred black leg.

"It's a tom!" gasped Morning Glory.

"Oh, he's magnificent!" Ravenwing turned to look.

Maple sprawled in the nest with her eyes closed, trying not to think about the pain yet to come. Something wet and squirming was shoved against her muzzle. She opened her mouth to protest—and smelled the sweetest scent she had ever known. She lifted her head and blinked down at the dark brown bundle of slick fur beside her. He looks just like Birch.

"Lick him, Maple," Ravenwing mewed. "It will help him to breathe."

For a moment Maple wanted to tell the other cats to get out, to leave her alone with this tiny precious creature. Nothing would ever be as special as this heartbeat, when she met her first kit.

Then her body buckled under another wave of pain and she cried out. Ravenwing hastily pulled the kit away. "You take him, Morning Glory," he ordered.

"Gladly," came the molly's mew. "Come here, little one. Let's get you clean and dry."

Maple tried to say that she could take care of her own kits but the spasm grew stronger and suddenly there was another kit lying beside her, his mouth wide open in a soundless mew, his fur patched with ginger and white like his mother's.

"Another tom," Ravenwing announced. "You're doing great, Maple." He ran his paws along her body. "One more, and that's it. Come on now, stay focused."

An irresistible longing to be alone with her kits gave Maple a fresh surge of strength and the final kit slithered out almost at once.

"A molly!" purred Ravenwing. "Smaller than her brothers, but in excellent shape. Your turn to take over, Maple." He nudged all three kits into the curve of Maple's belly. She propped herself up and twisted around to gaze at them in astonishment. I did it, Birch! Two sons and a daughter. Can you see us?

"Freckle, it's ok to come in now!" Morning Glory called.

Ravenwing nodded. "You did a great job, Maple. We'll leave you alone to rest, but I'll come back with some herbs for you after noon. Do you feel okay?" There was a flash of concern in his dark blue eyes, and Maple felt another surge of sympathy toward the young druid. This was the first delivery he'd had to supervise alone.

"I couldn't be better," she told him. Her throat felt dry and sore. "Could I just have some water, please?"

"I'll fetch it," Freckle offered, hopping out of the nest and vanishing through the brambles.

Ravenwing watched her leave. "You have made her feel as if life is worth living again," he commented. "She took the loss of her brother hard."

Maple buried her muzzle in the soft, damp fur of her kits. "These kits are my gift to the whole of ThunderColony," she murmured. "I will thank StarColony for them every day for the rest of my life."

The druid touched her lightly with the tip of his tail. "And ThunderColony thanks you," he meowed.

. . .

"Are you receiving visitors?" rumbled a voice at the entrance to the nursery.

"Of course! Come in," Maple mewed somewhat breathlessly while trying to coax the she-kit off the top of her head. At three sunrises old, they astonished Maple with their ability to be all over the nursery at once, while at the same time constantly nuzzling at her belly.