Keeping the Clans Alive {An Advanced Warriors RP} discussion

{Roleplay}

Creamripple laid one paw over Shiningmoon's belly, and felt the contraction. She could tell that she was ready to kit any minute, and no other cats were in sight in the clearing, except Frostpaw and the kits. Creamripple sighed, and told Shiningmoon, "Alright, you need to push. Take deep, calm, slow breaths. And now, push!" She spoke firmly, and looked through the entrance to the nursery again to see if anyone else was out there. Sparrowtail had been, but Creamripple wasn't sure that the she-cat had heard her request.

Shiningmoon yowled in pain as she pushed. Contractions shot through her as the first kit appeared, sliding out onto the moss. Her chest was rising and falling quickly and shallowly, despite her best efforts to slow her breathing like Creamripple said. Her chest felt weak as she tried to crane her neck to see the kit.

Creamripple purred happily as the first kit appeared, and quickly stepped over to it, nipping the sack to let the small wet kit tumble out. She began licking it roughly against the lay of the fur. She stopped once she heard it mewl, and picked it up to set it next to the queen. "Good job," she told Shiningmoon reassuringly, glad that they were getting along alright but wondering why no other cats were appearing at the entrance to the nursery. She remembered her own kitting not too long ago, the medicine cat and her mate both hovering near her and the other queens nearby as well. The camp was alive with anticipation to know how she and the kits had fared, and if they were all healthy and happy. She laid a paw gently on Shiningmoon's belly, and nodded. "I think you've still got one or two more. Now... push!"
((I have no idea how many kits she's supposed to have, and what genders they are, so I tried to keep the post fairly general ;P))

((That's okay, it worked! But she'll have three kits, a she, tom, and then a she. But the tom will be stillborn))

Shiningmoon gasped as yet another contraction shook her white body. A small gray tom slid onto the moss, unmoving. She flattened her ears and pushed once more, the last kit following quickly and easier than the others. Blood splattered the nest she lay on and she let her head lie back as she struggled to catch her breath again.