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Description

After many minutes of debating, Wispflake had gone to the medicine cat den. Rookfeather had implored that she do so; she'd woken up feeling awful, but had insisted that she was alright. Determined to her last breath, that was one reason he love his tiny mate. However, it wasn't exactly a good thing, considering today she almost fought nail and tooth to not go to the medicine cat den. Fleetingbite had returned, and of course Screepaw was out and about. So, Rookfeather had made sure Wispflake had gone to the equally small medicine cat before his attention was torn, as it seemed one of the senior warriors wanted to speak to him

Worry nipped at his pelt all the while, talking to the brown tortoiseshell. Wispflake never got sick, despite her fragile name. Very rarely, and when she did, it was not stomething to be joked about or anything like that. About 15 minutes went by, as the two had been discussing the going ons in the territory as well as the noises, and it seemed time had passed much quicker than Rookfeather would have liked. After bidding the tom farewell, the maine coon hurriedly made his way to the small cave. Ducking in, he let his eyes adjust to the dark that was the medicine cat den. It didn't take long, and when he did, he was met, face toface with Wispflake. She was grinning like all the stars had fallen and were dancing around them. Curiosity piqued, he smiled softly, tilting his head.

The two headed out of the den, and they settled down under a faintly shaded part of camp, where Rookfeather sat, and the smaller warrior seemed ready to nearly bounce out of her own fur.

"What's going on, Snowflake?" He asked her, calling her by his special nickname of hers.

A mischevious nature filled her already wide smile, and she giggled softly. "Ok, so, you know how I don't really get sick except for like those few times, right??"

Raising a brow, he nodded. "I was just thinking that, yes. Going by that up-to-no-good smile you have, it's nothing too troubling?"

Wispflake lightly brushed the top of her head to his chin, still softly chuckling. "Well, no duh. I'm uh... Y'know?"

Slight realization flitted in his eyes, and he was hesitant to right-out say it. But, Rookfeather wasn't an idiot. He knew what she meant. "Kits?" He asked simply, and when she nodded, he laughed aloud, happiness burbling in his chest. He felt the smaller warrior press her face to his chest and he buried his own face to the top of her head.

Kittens....

- - -

Well, folks, if you read the story, and the title, you know that RookWisp are having their second litter! Unfortunately, this is yet again a closed litter, but we've been planning them and had them in the making for about three months now, so you won't be disappointed!!

who else is excited? can i get a HOOYA!

- - -
Rookfeather is mine
Wispflake is CallTheAmberlance
Fleetingbite Nugchuppy
Dark, unnamed tortoiseshell (Snaketail) Maple467

Description

After many minutes of debating, Wispflake had gone to the medicine cat den. Rookfeather had implored that she do so; she'd woken up feeling awful, but had insisted that she was alright. Determined to her last breath, that was one reason he love his tiny mate. However, it wasn't exactly a good thing, considering today she almost fought nail and tooth to not go to the medicine cat den. Fleetingbite had returned, and of course Screepaw was out and about. So, Rookfeather had made sure Wispflake had gone to the equally small medicine cat before his attention was torn, as it seemed one of the senior warriors wanted to speak to him

Worry nipped at his pelt all the while, talking to the brown tortoiseshell. Wispflake never got sick, despite her fragile name. Very rarely, and when she did, it was not stomething to be joked about or anything like that. About 15 minutes went by, as the two had been discussing the going ons in the territory as well as the noises, and it seemed time had passed much quicker than Rookfeather would have liked. After bidding the tom farewell, the maine coon hurriedly made his way to the small cave. Ducking in, he let his eyes adjust to the dark that was the medicine cat den. It didn't take long, and when he did, he was met, face toface with Wispflake. She was grinning like all the stars had fallen and were dancing around them. Curiosity piqued, he smiled softly, tilting his head.

The two headed out of the den, and they settled down under a faintly shaded part of camp, where Rookfeather sat, and the smaller warrior seemed ready to nearly bounce out of her own fur.

"What's going on, Snowflake?" He asked her, calling her by his special nickname of hers.

A mischevious nature filled her already wide smile, and she giggled softly. "Ok, so, you know how I don't really get sick except for like those few times, right??"

Raising a brow, he nodded. "I was just thinking that, yes. Going by that up-to-no-good smile you have, it's nothing too troubling?"

Wispflake lightly brushed the top of her head to his chin, still softly chuckling. "Well, no duh. I'm uh... Y'know?"

Slight realization flitted in his eyes, and he was hesitant to right-out say it. But, Rookfeather wasn't an idiot. He knew what she meant. "Kits?" He asked simply, and when she nodded, he laughed aloud, happiness burbling in his chest. He felt the smaller warrior press her face to his chest and he buried his own face to the top of her head.

Kittens....

- - -

Well, folks, if you read the story, and the title, you know that RookWisp are having their second litter! Unfortunately, this is yet again a closed litter, but we've been planning them and had them in the making for about three months now, so you won't be disappointed!!

who else is excited? can i get a HOOYA!

- - -
Rookfeather is mine
Wispflake is CallTheAmberlance
Fleetingbite Nugchuppy
Dark, unnamed tortoiseshell (Snaketail) Maple467