It had taken Fierce Warrior a good long while to eventually persuade Midnight to step out from the tree root hollow she had burrowed herself into upon finding that she was with child. The news, Fierce suspected, had come as somewhat of a shock and perhaps that was why her eyes had widened and her body begin to shake.
And then had come the tree hollow, the tangled, exposed roots of the rotting tree proviing quite a nice bit of shelter for an anxious creature like In hte Midnight Hour. She had burrowed herself down in the dirt, snout resolutely tucked away, and for a brief moment, Fierce had wondered whether or not she was, in fact, losing her mind.
Or maybe she was losing something else. Either way, although it took more time than he would have liked, he did manage to persuade her out, Midnight creeping slowly and morosely, looking as though she was walking to her doom.
"See, that wasn't so bad," said Fierce briskly. He nudged her should with the tip of his nose in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture. "So are you going to tell me what's got you so spooked? I thought you would be excited about the prospect of children."
Midnight's lower lip was trembling. She looked away, a stubborn expression crossing across her face, and then mumbled, "I don't...not want children."
There was a pause. Eventually, Fierce said, "You'll have to be a bit more specific, I'm afraid."
"Oh, come on!" Midnight wailed, and abruptly she was on the ground again, flopping onto her side with her legs splayed and her fluffy tails all askew. Her ears were flattened back against her head and she let out a moan that sounded like she was possibly dying (maybe she was, Fierce thought, and he just didn't know it yet). "I'm going to be a terrible mother. I don't know how to have children! Children are strange. My own kits would be strange. What if they hate me? What if I'm the worst mother ever? What if they think I'm weird? And they're always sticky," she added, somewhat as an afterthought.
Fierce reigned in what he had been about to say and instead took a step over to her, gently nudging her side with a hoof. "There, there," he said soothingly. "It'll be all right. You're going to be fine, I'm sure if it. In fact, I bless you with the strength of mind to see that you will be a great mother and that your children will be happy and you're fussing about for nothing."
Midnight wailed again. Fierce didn't quite roll his eyes, but it was a close thing. "Up you go," he said firmly, and used his tail to poke her repeatedly in the back until she eventually, reluctantly, stood back up, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.
"Repeat after me," said Fierce, " 'I will be a good mother.' "
Midnight's lower lip jutted out. "I..." she whispered.
"Yes?"
"I...will be a..."
"See, you can do i - "
"I...will be...a...terrible mother!" Midnight wailed and flung herself on the ground again.
Fierce thought, on the whole, he probably should have just stayed at the Crescent Bay this morning instead of wandering out.
And then had come the tree hollow, the tangled, exposed roots of the rotting tree proviing quite a nice bit of shelter for an anxious creature like In hte Midnight Hour. She had burrowed herself down in the dirt, snout resolutely tucked away, and for a brief moment, Fierce had wondered whether or not she was, in fact, losing her mind.
Or maybe she was losing something else. Either way, although it took more time than he would have liked, he did manage to persuade her out, Midnight creeping slowly and morosely, looking as though she was walking to her doom.
"See, that wasn't so bad," said Fierce briskly. He nudged her should with the tip of his nose in what he hoped was an encouraging gesture. "So are you going to tell me what's got you so spooked? I thought you would be excited about the prospect of children."
Midnight's lower lip was trembling. She looked away, a stubborn expression crossing across her face, and then mumbled, "I don't...not want children."
There was a pause. Eventually, Fierce said, "You'll have to be a bit more specific, I'm afraid."
"Oh, come on!" Midnight wailed, and abruptly she was on the ground again, flopping onto her side with her legs splayed and her fluffy tails all askew. Her ears were flattened back against her head and she let out a moan that sounded like she was possibly dying (maybe she was, Fierce thought, and he just didn't know it yet). "I'm going to be a terrible mother. I don't know how to have children! Children are strange. My own kits would be strange. What if they hate me? What if I'm the worst mother ever? What if they think I'm weird? And they're always sticky," she added, somewhat as an afterthought.
Fierce reigned in what he had been about to say and instead took a step over to her, gently nudging her side with a hoof. "There, there," he said soothingly. "It'll be all right. You're going to be fine, I'm sure if it. In fact, I bless you with the strength of mind to see that you will be a great mother and that your children will be happy and you're fussing about for nothing."
Midnight wailed again. Fierce didn't quite roll his eyes, but it was a close thing. "Up you go," he said firmly, and used his tail to poke her repeatedly in the back until she eventually, reluctantly, stood back up, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.
"Repeat after me," said Fierce, " 'I will be a good mother.' "
Midnight's lower lip jutted out. "I..." she whispered.
"Yes?"
"I...will be a..."
"See, you can do i - "
"I...will be...a...terrible mother!" Midnight wailed and flung herself on the ground again.
Fierce thought, on the whole, he probably should have just stayed at the Crescent Bay this morning instead of wandering out.