Dawn was rising, the calling of a new day, and there was a commotion going on in the quaint, usually quiet clan of Shadowclan. A commotion that made a single, black tabby tom revel in anxiety.
In the center of the camp paced the said tom, his white paws circling the dusty ground. He trained his stormy blue eyes directly trained on the ground, ears back and heart sounding in his hearing.
A shrieking yowl cracked his concentration, making him jump up nearly two fox tails in the air, hackles raising and claws unsheathing. A few cats gazed his way in varying emotions. Worryment, annoyance, and others he couldn't see in his pacing.
It felt like hours, was hours, since his mate went into kitting..
Until Honeyridge approached him, giving him the go-to, to see his mate.
He rushed in, ignoring as the resident medicine cat called after him, entering the inside of the den. Breath catching in his throat.
There laid Milkpetal, her grey fur shining silver in the dawn's light, looking exhausted like never before. Her tail was curled around her stomach, smiling gently.
"Hey, Ripplefang." She greeted, a purr rumbling in her chest when he nuzzled her, chuckling.
"No need for official names, love." He purred, feeling heat crawl up to his face.
"Here they are. Two toms and a she-kit." His mate meowed back, moving her sleek tail back to show him his kits. His kits. His children.
He couldn't help but fall down next to her, hot tears rolling down his face, dampening his fur. He nuzzled close to his mate and kits, his wet cheek rubbing against the first kit he saw. A black kit with grey patches and white accents. It's first name bubbling from his lips.
"C-Cypresskit.."
