Orchardpaw was in hard core nesting mode. Nothing felt right at all. She kept pacing back and forth, readjusting herself, readjusting the nest, fluffing it up. Nothing was good. Nothing was good at all. Deciding to clear her head, the female hauled her pregnant self to her paws and started to walk outside of camp. It was in the middle of the day - unusual as most queens seemed to kit at night in her short lifetime. But what did she know? This was her first litter and there hadn't been many queens around her. Flattening her ears to her skull, the she-cat began to pant. These were obvious signs to a practiced female, but Orchardpaw had no idea she was about to kit until a sharp pain came to her stomach. Gasping, she drew in a sharp breath.
Turning, she hobbled her way back to camp - thankfully she wasn't far. She gave a low groan, peeking her head into the medicine cat den. "Brookpaw? Wheatbloom? Glacewing? Stonepeak?" the apprentice felt herself calling her mentor's name otu of instinct. She had a feeling that Glace did not want to be present for this, considering the rage she felt for her apprentice. But Orchardpaw was desperate and scared. She felt tiny, as if she wasn't going to be able to do it. After calling for these kits, she limped her way back over to her nest in the nursery, settling down.
It didn't take long for the kits to come. There were two, but Orchardpaw was dizzy. She had lost some blood, though nothing life threatening, and she leaned back in her nest. She couldn't focus long enough to clean the teeny babies off. She needed some help, though she wasn't gonna die, she could possibly get infected if she didn't receive help. She closed her eyes, taking in low breathes.