She just wants to have fun.

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    Swiftpelt helped her to the nursery. When they got inside, he helped her to her nest before running to get the medicine cat. On the way he ran into Gorseflare, "In a hurry, much?" she teased. "I have no time for this now, sorry." Swiftpelt meowed before racing off and getting the medicine cat.

    Nettlefoot settled as comfortably as she could into her nest and waited as another spasm of pain wracked her body. Before she knew it, Whisperstep was at her side, licking her ears and meowing words of encouragement. Where is Swiftpelt? she thought with panic.

    Swiftpelt finally got the medicine cat and was heading back with her when Gorseflare stopped him. Swiftpelt sighed, telling the medicine cat to go. "What do you want Gorseflare?" he asked. "Why are in such a hurry and so grumpy?" she mewed. "I'm not grumpy. Now, please I need to go." "Go where?" Gorseflare asked. "Doesn't matter." Swiftpelt mewed. "Uh, it kinda does Swiftpelt." she insisted. Now Swiftpelt was just getting annoyed. "I'll you later."


    Gorseflare stepping in front of Swiftpelt before he could continue. "Gorseflare, get out of my way!" he hissed. Gorseflare didn't move, so Swiftpelt unsheathed his claws and snarled. "Fine! But you have to tell me later or else." Gorseflare mewed, a fear scent coming from her. Swiftpelt moved around her and ran to the nursery.

    Nettlefoot sighed as another spasm died away. The medicine cat entered the den and Nettlefoot breathed in relief. But where was Swiftpelt? All thoughts ceased as her body convulsed and the first of the real contractions started. Yowling in pain, Nettlefoot barely realized that Whisperstep was still at her side, cooing words of encouragement.

    Nettlefoot opened her eyes a fraction and let out a rusty purr when she saw Swiftpelt. Another contraction began passing through her body, and she gasped, "When will they come?"

    Swiftpelt looked worried, he looked at the medicine cat.
    "In just a few moments if I am correct about your contractions." the medicine cat meowed.

    The medicine cat's voice was almost drowned out by Nettlefoot's yowl of pain. As the strongest spasm yet passed along her body, Nettlefoot concentrated with all her might and gave a huge shove. Letting out the breath she had been holding, she pricked her ears and heard a tiny mewling. "Let me see my kit," she meowed.

    The medicine cat smiled, giving Nettlefoot her tiny kit.
    Swiftpelt looked at the kit and licked Nettlefoot's ear, smiling.

    Licking the tiny scrap of wriggling fur, Nettlefoot smiled. "It's a she kit!" she exclaimed with happiness. But as soon as her smile had appeared, it disappeared as more contractions began.

    Swiftpelt looked at the tiny she-kit and smiled, then looked worried as he looked back at Nettlefoot.
    The medicine cat gently pressed on Nettlefoot's stomach with her paw and looked at her, "You're doing great." she mewed.

    As the medicine cat's paw prodded her belly, Nettlefoot felt another kit shift. Closing her eyes tight in a grimace, she felt the contraction push the kit out. Grasping for the kit with her teeth, Nettlefoot dropped it at her belly. "A beautiful tom," she murmured.


    ((I'm thinking she'll have four, but one will be stillborn.))

    ((alright ))


    Swiftpelt laid beside Nettlefoot, giving her comforting licks.
    The medicine cat sighed, "Almost done." she mewed.

    A third strong spasm passed through Nettlefoot's body, and another mewling kit slid out. With a huge effort, she reached back and snagged the kit up, laying it down at her side. "Another she kit," she meowed.

    Swiftpelt smiled at the she-kit, licking Nettlefoot's ear.
    The medicine cat gently pushed on her stomach again with her paw, "One more." she mewed.

    With her last scrap of energy, Nettlefoot's body convulsed once more. A tiny kit lay at her feet, and Nettlefoot reached down and picked the tiny she-kit up. Laying the kit down, she began to lick her wet fur. The kit wasn't mewling like the others, and Nettlefoot felt a lightning bolt of dread pass through her. Frantically, she began licking and rubbing the kit, begging, "Wake up, wake up! Why isn't she mewing?!"

    Swiftpelt was worried, what was happening? He looked at the medicine cat.
    The medicine cat reached out to the small kit, "She's stillborn." she mewed sadly.

    Nettlefoot wailed. "No, not my kit!" Her yowls of heartbreak were heard throughout the camp. Whimpering quietly, she cried, "What did I do wrong?"

    Swiftpelt licked her cheek. Then he looked at the she-kit.
    The medicine cat shook her head, "You didn't do anything wrong." she mewed, standing and watching her.