Post by .:Lion:. on Feb 17, 2012 15:53:54 GMT -5
Sunlight streamed into the camp, melting into the stones and shining off pelts as cats wove to and fro. SkyClan was characteristically busy. The fresh-kill pile was already well stocked, even though Sunhigh was still some time off. The Dawn patrol had come back and reported that all was calm. It was one of those nice days that encouraged the young she-cat to look at life optimistically. She sat on a stone near the entrance to the nursery, her beautiful golden tabby fur glowing in the sunlight, her blue eyes watching the camp with a careful sort of attentiveness. Most of the time she pretended not to notice the other queens staring at her and whispering, and other times she'd glance their way and just stare. She was kind by nature, but her piercing eyes did most of the work for her, so the queens would stop talking and shuffle nervously before turning their attention back to their kits. The golden she-cat sighed and flicked her tail languidly. She didn't care what other cats thought. Even if they hated her or thought terrible things about her, she was still safer here than she had been in the forest.
Beloved shuddered when she remembered the cold, miserable days on her own. She had never been much good at getting her own food, and had been almost on the brink of starvation when the Clan's medicine cat found her. She was grateful for the Clan's help. They were kind to her, kinder than most cats had been. But sometimes Beloved wondered if she would really stay here much longer. As if to facilitate this train of thought, the little lives growing inside of her wriggled around, sending a jolt through their mother's body. Beloved started, but then she relaxed. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to being pregnant. She probably wouldn't be used to it until the kits were born, which would defeat the purpose for the most part. The prospect of being a mother was still terrifying for Beloved. After all, it wasn't surprising that the queens questioned her age. She had told them she was older than she was. They thought she was small for her age, but in reality Beloved was about the right size for being 12 moons old. If the queens knew how old she really was, they probably would gossip even more.
But what did age have to do with being a mother? She could be just as nurturing, she was sure. The little kits inside of her would never want for love or food. She would make sure they had everything they could ever want. Even if her own kithood had been short and miserable for the most part, Beloved remembered enough of her parents to know what it felt to have the bond between parent and kit. All she had in the world were her kits, and they would feel that. She would make sure they knew how much they meant to her. It didn't matter that she was young, and it didn't matter that the kits' father was the object of all of Beloved's nightmares. Beloved's kits were the reason she was alive and free. Because of them she was happier than she ever had been, at least in a long, long time. She would do anything for them.
Closing her eyes, Beloved listened to the sounds of the camp, as content to hear as she had been to see. She no longer looked around for Jars' bulky form peering down at her from the clifftop. She no longer waited and watched to see if one of her Clanmates would strike her or scream at her. She was content to rest, and that peace was enough to make her want to weep for joy. This is the life you will have my kits, she thought fondly. You will never know what your mother had to go through. You will be happy. A smile formed on the she-cat's face, beautiful and serene, marred only by the long terrible scar that ran across her back, a constant reminder of her past and the mystery that she was to her Clanmates.
Beloved shuddered when she remembered the cold, miserable days on her own. She had never been much good at getting her own food, and had been almost on the brink of starvation when the Clan's medicine cat found her. She was grateful for the Clan's help. They were kind to her, kinder than most cats had been. But sometimes Beloved wondered if she would really stay here much longer. As if to facilitate this train of thought, the little lives growing inside of her wriggled around, sending a jolt through their mother's body. Beloved started, but then she relaxed. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to being pregnant. She probably wouldn't be used to it until the kits were born, which would defeat the purpose for the most part. The prospect of being a mother was still terrifying for Beloved. After all, it wasn't surprising that the queens questioned her age. She had told them she was older than she was. They thought she was small for her age, but in reality Beloved was about the right size for being 12 moons old. If the queens knew how old she really was, they probably would gossip even more.
But what did age have to do with being a mother? She could be just as nurturing, she was sure. The little kits inside of her would never want for love or food. She would make sure they had everything they could ever want. Even if her own kithood had been short and miserable for the most part, Beloved remembered enough of her parents to know what it felt to have the bond between parent and kit. All she had in the world were her kits, and they would feel that. She would make sure they knew how much they meant to her. It didn't matter that she was young, and it didn't matter that the kits' father was the object of all of Beloved's nightmares. Beloved's kits were the reason she was alive and free. Because of them she was happier than she ever had been, at least in a long, long time. She would do anything for them.
Closing her eyes, Beloved listened to the sounds of the camp, as content to hear as she had been to see. She no longer looked around for Jars' bulky form peering down at her from the clifftop. She no longer waited and watched to see if one of her Clanmates would strike her or scream at her. She was content to rest, and that peace was enough to make her want to weep for joy. This is the life you will have my kits, she thought fondly. You will never know what your mother had to go through. You will be happy. A smile formed on the she-cat's face, beautiful and serene, marred only by the long terrible scar that ran across her back, a constant reminder of her past and the mystery that she was to her Clanmates.
