Almondpaw saw Brodie drop to the bottom of the pit next to her. She looked away. His injuries were pretty bad. Those cats had no mercy for him. She was lucky to get away with the minor injuries she had recieved. She crawled towards him and put her nose on his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. She could see several other cats around. They looked sickly and in pain. Some of them had vicious, wild looks in their eyes but kept to themselves in the corners of the pit. She sighed. This was the life she had been avoiding for so long.
Brodie was curled up, with one of his paws over his face. He was in deep pain. He had blood welling up from so many of the cuts on his body. He looked up at Almondpaw in utter defeat. He couldn't believe that he had fallen for the lies and the tricks of the Raiders. All I wanted to do was be one of them. I didn't know that this was a part of that.
"I need something to help my wounds, but I don't think they're going to give me anything," Brodie mewed. The only thing he knew that you could put on wounds was medicine that was gotten at the veterinarian. He couldn't make it to the vet from where he was.
Almondpaw looked around, thinking back to the forests. She knew that there was one commonplace item that could be put on wounds. It was cobweb, and down here in the pit there was plenty of it. For once she was glad that she had spent time in the Clan. She grabbed some of it and placed it down on Brodie's wounds.
"Here, I know that this will help stop the bleeding," she mewed. "I don't have anything for pain, though. This is all I know how to do."
Though he was thoroughly confused by what Almondpaw was doing, he couldn't deny that it made him feel better. The bleeding was slowing down when she applied the cobwebs, and though he was still in pain, he didn't think he was in such danger of dying now. He was still weary and aching, though, and his wounds were painfully stinging. The Raiders had not held back in his beat down.
"Thanks," he mewed, though his voice was drained of any volume. He was glad that Almondpaw was willing to help him even though he had led her into a trap. He had been caught in the same trap, though, so perhaps she had some sympathy for him.
OOC: I almost completely forgot about this thread, I'm so sorry.
Almondpaw was glad to help, but she began to feel sudden pains in her gut. She began to panic. The kits are coming, she thought with horror. There was no one around to help her give birth. She didn't have a nest or anything to keep her kittens safe. She stumbled and fell to her side in the corner.
She looked at Brodie wearily, panting. "I don't know what to do, I've never had kits," she breathed. It was a natural process, but somehow the whole thing still scared her. Sometimes birthing went wrong. What if I die? she thought.
The black and white tom's blue eyes narrowed a little bit when he looked at her, though not from anger, but from sympathy. He had dragged her out her and put her through all of this, and he couldn't help but feel a small hint of remorse for his actions. Now she was kitting, and he didn't know anything he could do to help her.
"It's natural," he rasped, trying to assure her. "She-cats give birth all the time, nothing will go wrong." She was so small, though, and he didn't know if there was any promise in his words. He hoped that nothing would go wrong for her sake. Even though he'd been cruel to her, she was kind to him, and he appreciated that. "Just keep calm and breathe."
The young she-cat was finding it hard to keep calm like Brodie was telling her to. He was a tom, he'd never given birth, and couldn't instruct her on what to do. She wished there were some older she-cat around who could tell her what she had to do. She kept breathing, her eyes narrowed. "Please... I need something... for the pain," she rasped.
She wished there were something around that she could take for it, but she didn't think there was. She felt rippling pulses in her stomach. She squirmed, but no way she turned was comfortable.
Brodie looked at her helplessly. She had put cobwebs on him, but he couldn't exactly do that to her. He was certain that if she ate them it wouldn't do her any good either. He knew absolutely nothing about the way natural medicine worked. The black and white tom gazed at her softly.
"I don't know what I could do for you," he sighed. "Just try to think about other things. Think about better things than the pain."
He wasn't sure if just ignoring it would help to make it go away, but it was his only and best suggestion. He looked around, hoping maybe one of the other cats in the pit would take pity on Almondpaw and do something to help her.
She tried to block out the pain using her thoughts, but it was hard for her to think about better things. Her entire life had been a tragedy. She tried to think of the most peaceful and serene landscape she could, with a vast lake and fluttering leaves. She closed her eyes, and found that it was doing a fair job of helping her with the pain of labor.
She gave birth to her first kit, and she opened her eyes so that she could lick it clean. She felt sick to his gut, and she knew there were still others coming. "Help me lick this one clean," she rasped to Brodie.
The tom cat was a little grossed out about childbirth. He gagged and turned away. When the kit came and he was asked to help, he desperately wanted to do the exact opposite. Still, he felt as though he owed Almondpaw for helping him, and even though he would have ignored any other cat with such a request, he would do it for her.
"Alright, I guess," he meowed. He bent down next to the kit and started licking it. The taste was disgusting and metallic, and he winced. I feel bad for mothers, he thought. All the times they've had to do this. I'm glad toms can never have kits.
The young she-cat cried out in pain as the second kit came. She was glad that Brodie complied to doing what she wanted. She almost felt an urge to scratch him for getting near her kit though, but she fought it off. It was just motherly instinct getting in the way of her common sense. She shook her head.
The second kit arrived without any trouble as well. It was a small red tabby and white she-kit. She strained to see her first kit, who was solid black. They both seemed to have strange ears and short tails. She knew she still had one kit left to deliver, so she laid back and let Brodie lick her kits clean.
For a moment Brodie was concerned if Almondpaw would lash out at him, as females often did if males got near their kits. She seemed to rationalize him as not being a threat however, so he relaxed and continued what was the most disgusting job he thought he'd ever had in his entire life. This is gross, he thought. I never wish to do this again.
He wondered what Almondpaw would name the kits. Will she give them Clan names? I'd bet the raiders wouldn't like that. He continued to lick. Maybe she'll name one after me.
The final kit was so small and so helpless that the birth went almost effortlessly. It looked so fragile, and his coat was calico patterned. She could barely tell if it was male or female, but she nudged it and started cleaning it off. She was relieved that the pain had gone, and her belly was much flatter now. She would need to think of names for them.
She looked to the oldest kit, the tom as black as the night. "You will be called Talon," she meowed. "You will lead us into victory when we rebel against these Raiders." Almondpaw already had big plans for her little kits. She looked to the red and white tabby she-cat. "You will be called Red. You will help your brother." She looked to the final one. "You will be called Kite. Perhaps your name will suggest better than your appearance." She looked at Brodie and dipped her head. "Thank you."
Though he was slightly disappointed that none of the kits were named after him, he was grateful that Almondpaw had made it through the birthing process. After all he had put her through, he would have felt far worse if she had died as well. He examined the kits, and found that their names generally matched, save for Kite whose name would have to go before him. He seemed petite, fragile, and small. Brodie sniffed him and tilted his head.
"What's wrong with this one?" he asked. He knew nothing about medical conditions. If he ever got sick, he was taken to the veterinarian, and they would help him with his problems. "He seems a little small."
She stared at Kite, somewhat hurt by Brodie's comment about his size even though she knew that there was something off about him. Calico toms were not common, and often times they were sterile and had immune deficiencies. "He's the runt of the litter," she responded. "He's a little on the small side. Maybe he'll grow." She wasn't hopeful about it. Something in her motherly instincts told her otherwise.
The only thing she could hope was that one of the kits from her first litter did not die. She sadly stared at them. They had been born into a life that would turn them into monsters, but she was going to turn them into rebels with a cause. Maybe I do have some warrior spirit after all.