Heatherpetal
Windclan Queen
The rose-gold Queen had slipped out of the medicine cat den, her periwinkle eyes looking down at her paws. The young molly was anxious, trying to keep herself distracted. Heatherpetal had just finished visiting her mother who was currently bedridden. Goldenrose’s condition wasn’t improving, and it was more concerning since the kits inside her mother weren’t moving as much these days. Littlewoods and Startledcrow couldn’t figure out what was happening to the older rose-gold molly, and were doing everything to ensure that Goldenrose was alright. Cometchaser hadn’t been reacting well, staying by his mate’s side and helping the molly with every single need.
Would Goldenrose be able to pull through this? Would the kits survive?
Praying to Starclan and every ancestor that she could think of to look after her mother and younger siblings, Heatherpetal blinked away a couple of tears before padding into the clearing. Blackfire had stayed within the nursery to look after her second litter with Startledcrow, while the dark tom was staying with Littlewoods so the two can determine what herbs to use next with Goldenrose. Opening her eyes for a moment, Heatherpetal had seen Quailpaw at the entrance of the apprentices’ den, her gaze softened at the sight of her daughter. The small rose-gold molly had made her way towards the brown and white molly, bumping her nose into the side of her daughter’s head and releasing a loud purr.
Heatherpetal didn’t want her kits to see her in such distress, but she knew that her five kits were also nervous about their grandmother. “Hello my little bird.” The Windclan Queen purred, nuzzling her kit. Quailpaw was a very sassy female, she reminded Heatherpetal so much of Startledcrow. It appeared that something was on her kit’s mind, she hoped that Quailpaw was doing alright and wasn’t overly stressed with her training and her grandmother’s condition. “You have something on your mind, is everything ok?” Heatherpetal questioned, moving to groom between her daughter’s ears. The small molly was a very doting mother, always looking after all of her kits
Quailpaw
Windclan Apprentice
The young brown and white she-cat had lost track of how long she had been sitting at the mouth of the apprentice's den. Even when Briarpaw had pushed her way past her and shot an insult at her, Quailpaw hadn't moved, frozen like a statue and fixating on her paws. She didn't even register her mother appearing at her side at first. Her head was swimming, the world was so loud...
Why her? Why did she have to pick up the weird, prophetic-seeming dreams from her father? Was this happening to her littermates too?
Her mother nuzzling her cheek finally brought her from her stupor, and Quailpaw blinked herself back into reality with a few quick blinks.
"Oh, hey Mama..." She mewed, her voice dejected. It was unlike her usual sassy mannerisms. Her mother's question sent a chill up her spine. Was she that obvious?
"I- No- I..." She could tell her mother, surely? She would get it... "...When Dad has dreams from Starclan, does he see weird things...?" Her brow knit together hard in the middle of her forehead as she continued.
"I keep seeing this piece of sea glass...and...and... when I look into it in my dreams... it's swirling with the spirits of cats... it's like... they call to me. And want me to find it." She fixes her mother with a pleading expression, begging her to understand with her silent fear.