Cycle of Love (open to all family once Grizz posts!)

Once again, the cream pelted she-cat found herself in a tightly woven den of reeds, gloriously cared for by the apprentices. Her paws itched to leave the luxurious prison, but as the Deputy's mate, she was treated with royal regard. Most likely in fear of elder duty. She'd overstayed her visit into the nursery by a moon, her single little kit wishing to take their time. Little one, I hope you know the boredom you've made me suffer! She thought dryly, heaving herself up to her paws.

Just a simple stroll around camp. Nothing strainous. At least, she thought. Her kit seemed to have other ideas. The second she was off the ground, she flopped straight back down. She'd recognize this pain anywhere; her kit was ready to explore the world."Softcloud!" She yowled, and was rewarded with the startled cry of an apprentice, accompanied by rushing paws. A heartbeat later, her friend was in the den, shoving fowl but helpful plants at her.

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Finally, it was over, and a single tom lay beside her. "Wolfstorm," She adressed her mate, light-headed from birth and eyes half closed from the loud purr in her throat, "What should we name him?" Her son was the embodiment of beauty, a strikingly silver pelt she knew would fluff up in time. She sensed Softcloud beside her, murmuring words of encouragement to her, and she could feel the love drifting from both her closest confident and her mate. You will be loved, little one, don't forget that.

The transition from warmth and safety to a cold, hungry existence was positively foul. The kit was fussy from the beginning, crying out from his space at Violetbriar's belly, prodding, begging to be let back in. His squeaking seemed endless as he nuzzled his mother, the melodrama presumably going unnoticed by the adult cats. His kneading and mewling looked like simple thirstiness and frustration; admittedly, it was. Soon, he found himself a place to drink, and the warm nectar of milk soothes his aching stomach. The small silver kit, eyes and ears still closed to the world, buried himself between Violetbriar's elbow and her chest, where he could pretend he was still in limbo, in that warm place he left behind. For now, it was him and his mother He hoped, with what little consciousness he had so far, that this simple fact would always remain.

Wolfstorm, although having experienced his mate giving birth before, was still nervous. He had been returning to camp as he saw his mate call out for the medicine cat, and quickly dropped his prey, sprinting over. Softcloud had reassured him, and he had waited, finally bursting in. There he saw Violetbriar and a beautiful little kit. And he had the honor of naming him! ”Shellkit. Because you are as precious and as lovely as a shell.” mewed the deputy, sitting down in the nursery for a moment.

OOC: Very late to post in this but decided to anyway XD

IC: "Mother? Father? How did it go? How's the little one?" mewed a soft voice from just outside the nursery. It's owner appeared not long after, chocolate brown eyes holding a bit of curiosity and gaiety. The light-furred tom looked down toward the new addition of their family, a bright grin spread across his face. "Wooaah...Is that how small my other siblings and me were? Oh! Almost forgot to ask but, what's his name? Did ya give him a cool name?" excitedly asked the apprentice as he continued to stare at his youngest sibling in awe but also with a hint of protectiveness. He was rather protective of all of his siblings but he'll be keeping an extra eye on this one. He was now the youngest after all. Whitepaw wondered if Waterpaw would be glad to no longer be the youngest or if he'd react oppositely.