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As Bluefur lay in the nursery, a sudden wave of pain struck her. The blue-grey queen ignored the first stab of pain, continuing to talk to Snowfur. Her sister had just moved into the nursery yesterday, after Featherwhisker had told the white molly she was pregnant. But then, the second ripple of pain happened and Bluefur couldn’t stop the yowl of distress. Snowfur immediately got to her paws and hurried out to get Featherwhisker as he was the Clan’s preferred medicine cat, out of him and Goosefeather.
Moments later, Featherwhisker had returned with Snowfur as the white molly settled back down into her nest. Featherwhisker padded over to Bluefur and gently placed a paw on her flank. “I need you to push now, Bluefur.” The tom meowed firmly, keeping his paw on her flank.
As the next wave of pain crashed over her, Bluefur pushed with all her might. A cry of pain escaped from her jaws, as Thrushpelt hovered at the entrance to the nursery. Everyone in the Clan knew he had been interested in Bluefur, despite her not returning the feelings.
“Thrushpelt, go get some water for Bluefur please. She’s going to need it.” Featherwhisker instructed, sensing the other tom behind him.
“Yes, Featherwhisker.” The light brown warrior replied and dashed off with some moss. He was soon back with it and placed it by Bluefur’s jaws. She thirstily lapped up the water.
“You’re almost there!” Snowfur mewed encouragingly, from her own nest.
“The first kit has been born!” Featherwhisker exclaimed triumphantly, passing the tiny bundle to Icebracken. The third sibling to Bluefur and Snowfur cleaned up the tom and placed the kit at her sister’s side.
“You’re doing well, Bluefur. Keep pushing.” Icebracken meowed, turning to tend to the second kit. “The second kit has arrived.”
“… Are they okay?” Bluefur rasped.
“They’ll be fine, Bluefur. Just focus on pushing. There’s one left.” Featherwhisker gave an encouraging mew. He pushed some herbs towards her. “These will help.”
“Keep pushing, Bluefur. You’re almost there. Your kits need you.” Snowfur purred, proud of her sister’s efforts.
Bluefur groaned, barely able to yowl anymore. She was too tired to push, breathing heavily as she did so.
“There’s the third kit. Well done, Bluefur. Congratulations to you and Thrushpelt.” Featherwhisker praised as Icebracken cleaned up the new arrival.
“He’s right, Bluefur. You were great.” Thrushpelt meowed, his voice soft. “There’s one tom and two she-kits.” He moved forward and thrust his shoulder under Bluefur’s head to help her see her kits better.
Bluefur rasped. “They’re beautiful….” Inwardly, she wondered when she would be able to tell Crookedjaw about his kits.
Featherwhisker adopted a more serious tone. “You need to rest now, Bluefur.” Looking at Snowfur, he added: “Tell me when she wakes so I can bring more herbs.”
“I will.” The white molly observed as Thrushpelt slowly eased Bluefur’s head back to the ground.
Bluefur made to ask something, but Thrushpelt shushed her lovingly as the queen fell asleep.