Dying Starlight

Chapter 6

"They're beautiful, Poppystar." Bluepaw stared at the three little bundles of fur in complete awe. The leader's labored breathing filled her den as Sweetfur began to clean up the herbs and soiled moss from the birthing. "Briarslip would've been very proud to meet them." He looked at the leader and saw her eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed at her kits. "I'm sure he's watching from StarClan right now." He added quietly, running his tail along her heaving flank comfortingly.

Poppystar's watery eyes lifted to his and she smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks as she let out a choked laugh. "Thank you, Bluepaw." She mewed, her voice quivering as she leaned down and began to lap at the kits' pelts. The smattering of cobwebs plastered on the leader's lithe body morphed with every move she made, and Bluepaw silently seethed with anger.

It was just past sunhigh when Poppystar, Starlingspeck, and Sweetfur returned to the camp. Poppystar was wounded and limping, her fur caked with blood and dust as she breathed hard. Sweetfur was fussing over her injuries the moment they stepped foot in the camp. Bluepaw was one of the last cats to hear the news of the RiverClan medicine cat's scuffle with Poppystar, much to the dismay of the other warriors.

"We know that Briarslip's killer hasn't been punished enough," the leader had said once she had regained her breath. "Timberpaw has been held back from being made a warrior, but there's nothing else that Halfstar has done to punish him for killing a respected warrior. We are down in numbers but SkyClan is strong and we will hold RiverClan responsible for Briarslip's death."

Bluepaw was beyond enraged at the audacity the medicine cat had to attack a pregnant queen when it was one of their apprentices who had killed Briarslip. The only two who seemed skeptical and concerned about Poppystar's words were Starlingspeck and Sweetfur. Maybe they'd heard or seen something in the RiverClan camp that the leader hadn't said? His anger brought him back to the present as he watched Poppystar's kits nurse at the curve of her cream belly.

"I'll come back and check on you and the kits later, okay?" Sweetfur's soft voice was barely above a whisper as she looked at Poppystar. "Just rest and don't leave the den. I'll be back before the meeting tonight." She dipped her head and exited the leader's den without saying anything more.

Poppystar's breathing evened out after a few heartbeats and Bluepaw just sat awkwardly next to the leader's head. She cleared her throat and looked over at him. "Thank you for being here, Bluepaw." She rasped, her eyes tired and bloodshot from crying. "I know it must've been awkward and weird for you, but it means a lot that you're here." Her eyes slid down to the floor and she let out a heavy sigh. "I wish Briarslip could see our kits."

"I'm sure he's watching from StarClan right now, Poppystar." Bluepaw responded, grateful that the awkwardness was acknowledged. "You have a beautiful family."

The calico she-cat let out a strangled laugh that hurt Bluepaw's ears. "My family isn't whole, not without the father of my kits." She turned her head away and gazed at her kits, eyes pooling with tears that she fought back. "We didn't come up with names before he died. I-I don't even know what to call them."

"Why don't I help you?" The apprentice suggested gently. He rose and circled around to sit in front of the molly to get a better look at the kits. The three little ones were so tiny and fragile. Two she-kits and a tom were wriggling about at their mother's belly, mewing and suckling. "Uhm... This cream-and-gray she-kit can be Lilackit." He looked at the little molly, taking in the beginnings of stripes that hadn't formed. "She seems like she'll have a lot of personality by the time she opens her eyes."

Poppystar raised her gaze to meet Bluepaw's. He returned the look, surprised to see the softness in the blue depths. "That's beautiful," she whispered and looked back at her kits. "T-the calico tom can be Asterkit." She touched her nose to the little cat's rump, causing the little one to squeal and slap his mother's nose with a tiny paw. Poppystar smiled and a tear slid down her cheek. "He has his father's muzzle."