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Description
Bella-May loved her family more than anything else, and although she never lost anyone while they were still so young, she understands the pain of a mother’s loss. So of course she would be there to comfort her granddaughter, even if Blacksong couldn’t feel her.

Bonus:

Blacksong could feel trepidation lingering on the outskirts of her heart, expecting something to happen, but not quite sure what it was. The way Gorsedaisy had looked at her kits after delivering them had unsettled her. Was that it?

She turned her attention to her kits, and once again love swelled within her chest, threatening to spill over. Not all kits had made it. Aspenkit was dead before she was born, cradled delicately now in Blacksong’s paws.

Duskkit was crying. That pulled Blacksong from her daughter. Gazing at her sons, it was then that she realized that her youngest, Myrtlekit’s back foot was planted on a jutting branch coming off of the den wall. She shifted, ready to move it and then feed them, when the tiny branch gave and Myrtlekit’s foot shot out, kicking Duskkit. Duskkit’s crying stopped instantly, his head thumping onto the ground. Blacksong froze, staring. Duskkit didn’t move, didn’t cry.

For a long time she was frozen, unable to anything but watch. In the back of her mind, far from her thoughts now, she was grateful that the other queens were temporarily moved to the elder’s den so that she could have privacy with her difficult birth, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to handle the wailing she was already feeling build up in her chest. She clamped her jaws shut before a noise could escape her. She shakily picked Duskkit up from the ground and laid her beside his sister as carefully as she could. Then she turned to grab Myrtlekit, accidently dropping him when he cried out. In horror, she saw the blood on his scruff. She had picked him up too harshly.

He began to cry out more, mouth wide. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Blacksong licked his head, nudging him close to her belly. “It was an accident, Myrtlekit.” She wasn’t sure which one she was talking about. “I didn’t mean it, I know you didn’t either.” She curled herself so that she could embrace them all deeper. Three kits. She had three kits, and now two of them were dead. She managed through a shuddering breath, “You would never hurt a fly.”

Description
Bella-May loved her family more than anything else, and although she never lost anyone while they were still so young, she understands the pain of a mother’s loss. So of course she would be there to comfort her granddaughter, even if Blacksong couldn’t feel her.

Bonus:

Blacksong could feel trepidation lingering on the outskirts of her heart, expecting something to happen, but not quite sure what it was. The way Gorsedaisy had looked at her kits after delivering them had unsettled her. Was that it?

She turned her attention to her kits, and once again love swelled within her chest, threatening to spill over. Not all kits had made it. Aspenkit was dead before she was born, cradled delicately now in Blacksong’s paws.

Duskkit was crying. That pulled Blacksong from her daughter. Gazing at her sons, it was then that she realized that her youngest, Myrtlekit’s back foot was planted on a jutting branch coming off of the den wall. She shifted, ready to move it and then feed them, when the tiny branch gave and Myrtlekit’s foot shot out, kicking Duskkit. Duskkit’s crying stopped instantly, his head thumping onto the ground. Blacksong froze, staring. Duskkit didn’t move, didn’t cry.

For a long time she was frozen, unable to anything but watch. In the back of her mind, far from her thoughts now, she was grateful that the other queens were temporarily moved to the elder’s den so that she could have privacy with her difficult birth, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to handle the wailing she was already feeling build up in her chest. She clamped her jaws shut before a noise could escape her. She shakily picked Duskkit up from the ground and laid her beside his sister as carefully as she could. Then she turned to grab Myrtlekit, accidently dropping him when he cried out. In horror, she saw the blood on his scruff. She had picked him up too harshly.

He began to cry out more, mouth wide. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Blacksong licked his head, nudging him close to her belly. “It was an accident, Myrtlekit.” She wasn’t sure which one she was talking about. “I didn’t mean it, I know you didn’t either.” She curled herself so that she could embrace them all deeper. Three kits. She had three kits, and now two of them were dead. She managed through a shuddering breath, “You would never hurt a fly.”