Wishpool's head snapped up as she heard a grunt from another nest. If this was kits again, she was going to scream. She knew it was as soon as she reached the edge of the nest, and somehow, miraculously, managed not to curse. Except in her mind, where she was a fountain of swearing.
Fox dung. Why is it always me who has to deal with mouse brain she-cats kitting? Why can't the stupid medicine cats be around for once? The one time the substitute was around, the mouse brains hadn't taught her anything! Why is it always ME who has to handle the little foxes being born? Her outward look was one of calm however as she stood over Swiftsnap, mewing levelly
Deep breaths. Deep breaths help. Also, you can bite on this stick. she added, seizing one from the stash that she had spent a LONG time finding on the un-wooded moors after the last kitting. @
Dovey the Present