“Kits?” Thoughts of the future bounced inside Rainystripe’s skull. Visions of bundles of fur battered their way through her mind. “What will they look like? How many?”
Leafpool laughed a laughed a silvery laugh. “If I knew, I would tell you!”
Rainystripe laughed with her nervously. “Oh,”
Her thoughts ran back to her dream. The visions of her kits became muddled. Brown mixed with grey and black. Even shapes became distorted. Rainystripe raked her claws through her nest. Suddenly a wheezing cough brought her back to reality.
“Darkstorm?”
Her mate lay prostrate next to her; a heaving mass of bones and fur. Softly, he choked out the words, “Water,”
Rainystripe took action immediately. “Of course! Liontail!” Her yowl sent exclamations of surprise from the outside. A red pelt shone in the entrance.
“Yes?” Liontail’s meow was concerned.
“Fetch water. From the spring. Hurry!” Rainystripe hissed the instructions and Liontail ran to carry out her orders.
Rainystripe stood with a jolt of pain, and a paw gently pushed her back to her nest.
“You,” Leafsong looked her friend sternly in the eyes. “You have been exercising without my supervision!”
Rainystripe shuffled her paws. “I was afraid. I-I thought you might tell me to stop.” Her reason sounded lame in the form of words.
Leafsong pressed her body against Rainystripe. “You can always trust me. But,” She glared at Rainystripe. “You have to move to the nursery. I don’t want you to catch whatever Darkstorm has.” Leafsong silenced Rainystripe’s excuse with a swipe of her tail. “I will help you with the move. Poppyfrost will be glad of your company.”
Rainystripe nodded reluctantly. “Of course,”
She began to gather up her moss, but Leafsong stopped her. “I’ll send some cat to get you some more,”
Rainystripe sheathed her claws, and Liontail padded into the already-full den, burdened with a ball of dripping moss.
“The poppy seeds are taking hold of Darkstorm, so you may set that inside his reach.” Leafsong commanded.
Rainystripe watched Liontail place the moss, then she exited her den. Warriors sprawled over camp, sharing tongues and prey. A few cats looked up when she passed, but others continued eating. Leafsong led Rainystripe across the clearing, avoiding snow and stray tails. Rainystripe’s head buzzed from pain and the glare from the snow. Finally, the pair entered the den and Rainystripe flopped exhaustedly on the dieing grass. Her sides heaved and her breath camp in spurts; even that short walk exhausted her.
“I’ll be right back,” Leafsong padded back out of the nursery, careful to replace the hanging vines as to block any stray sunlight. Rainystripe closed her eyes and let them adjust to her dim surroundings. Paw steps sounded and Rainystripe jerked her head up to see Leafsong standing in the entrance, holding a bundle of flowers.
“What are those for?”
“Thyme, Juniper berries, Coltsfoot and Borage leaves. For anxiety, to help you breath, a possible cough, and for producing milk.”
“Wow. You really have done good at training!”
Leafsong laughed. “Eat those. They will help.”
Rainystripe obediently lapped up the herbs, and Leafsong left.
I wonder where Poppyfrost is? She thought absently. Her question was soon answered as Poppyfrost padded through the hanging ivy that formed the door.
“Er… Hi,” Poppyfrost seemed surprised to see her.
Rainystripe smiled. “Hello,”
Poppyfrost settled down in a nest that Rainystripe hadn’t noticed. “I guess you are having Darkstorm’s kits?” She asked innocently.
Rainystripe scowled at the thought of what she had gone through to choose between Sharpfang and Darkstorm. “Yes.” Ice edged her mew. “Yours are Ashclaw’s?”
Poppyfrost again looked startled. “Yes,” She began to clean herself. “How many do you want to have?”
Rainystripe instantly recognized the invitation of friendship in her tone. “I don’t know,” Suddenly her thoughts turned to her dream. Three kits danced in a green light. “Three. You?”
Poppyfrost’s face grew wishful and bright. “Oh, I’d be happy with any amount! Maybe one. Or two. Or three, oh I don’t care!” Her mew was laden with joy and love.
“Who do you think they are more likely to look like?” Rainystripe continued their thoughts of the future.
Poppyfrost paused. “I haven’t thought about that! Maybe there will be a smoky and white one, then a black one, then a white! What do you imagine yours as looking like?”
“Brown, black and grey,” Rainystripe decided.
Poppyfrost yawned. “Neat. I’ve got to go to sleep. I never should have eaten the other half of that vole…” The rest of her words were drowned out by gentle snoring.
Rainystripe herself yawned, suddenly over come with tiredness. A bit of sleep won’t hurt…
