You know how sometimes kittens will try to nurse or suckle on male cats if they get hungry? I watched a bunch of such videos on Youtube when an idea hit me.
Did such a thing ever occur in the Warriors universe?
Thus, you have this. I feel bad for Rowanclaw. You should, too. I'm torturing him for your entertainment. Be ashamed!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Warriors series. That belongs to Erin Hunter. I do, however, own the ShadowClan cats featured in this story. THEY ARE MINE, YOU HEAR ME?! NO STEALING! *rage*
Anyway, I hope you like it! Enjoy! Rowanclaw sure won't…
Warriors: I Am NOT Your Mother!
Kits
Rowanclaw's paws pounded the grassy ground as his patrol raced back to ShadowClan's camp. Beside him, his best friend Lizardtail looked scared to death. Ahead of them, Foxtooth, Blackfoot, and Badgerfur ran as fast as their paws would carry them. Word had reached them that the worst had finally happened.
Lizardtail's mate, Smokeheart, had finally died from greencough.
It had been a rough green-leaf for all of the clans, but more so for ShadowClan. A bout of greencough had appeared out of nowhere, claiming the lives of two elders, a warrior, and an apprentice. Now it had stolen a queen's life, endangering the lives of her four two-moon-old kits.
The worst thing of all? Lizardtail knew nothing about caring for kits. The kits may as well have been orphaned.
The patrol of five burst into the camp in record time. Lizardtail raced for the nursery, only to be forced away when Hawkwing emerged from the den. The jet black tom steered clear of the ragged-looking medicine cat. Hawkwing hissed at Lizardtail, driving him away.
"Smokeheart! Is she…?" Lizardtail mewed, terror lacing into his words.
"Dead? Yes, she is." Hawkwing meowed in a clipped, cold tone. She directed her golden-gazed attention to the approaching Adderstar. "Smokeheart has perished, Adderstar. The kits and queens should be moved from the nursery until it is cleared of any remaining signs of greencough."
"Do so immediately," Adderstar meowed, shoulders hunched and voice low with bitter sorrow. Smokeheart had been his sister. "What of Smokeheart's kits? Will they survive?"
"They show no signs of greencough. I believe them to be safe." Hawkwing replied. "Basilleaf has agreed to take them in with her own two."
"Let her," Adderstar nodded. He turned to look at Lizardtail. "May StarClan keep her safe. You have my deepest apologies, Lizardtail."
"May StarClan keep her safe," the heartbroken tom mewed, hanging his head in sorrow.
The clan began to disperse, sadly resuming their clan duties. Hawkwing assisted in moving the queens and their kits to the elder's den. Rowanclaw moved to help the remaining two elders leave their dens in favor of the warrior's den.
"Poor, poor Smokeheart. She was so kind, even as a warrior," Stormpelt meowed, limping from the den on his trembling paws. "Sometimes even too kind… StarClan protect her and spare her kits of her fate."
"Agreed," Darktail mewed, slowly staggering after him on her own shaking, stick-thin limbs. "We've lost enough clanmates for one green-leaf. Let StarClan take no more loved ones from us."
"You're right, Darktail." Rowanclaw agreed, resting his tail tip on her shoulder. "We've suffered enough. I pray StarClan is satisfied with what it has taken from us."
"I understand taking Runningfoot and Pinewhisker, but Stoneheart and Mosspaw? They were so young with so much potential… They had such good futures in store… Why them, too? Why Smokeheart? Why take them, StarClan? Why?" Darktail caterwauled, padding away miserably.
Rowanclaw silently watched the two elders pad away, ears drooping in sorrow. He looked to the darkening sky above, the first stars beginning to emerge. Why, StarClan? He thought. Why take so much from us? Why now, when we're so weak to start with? Why?
He received no answer. The dark brown tabby tom looked away and began to head toward the warrior's den to search for his friend, no doubt mourning the loss of his beloved mate. Rowanclaw would need to be there to support him through this. That's what best friends did, after all.
.o.o.o.o.o.
It was many sunrises later that IT happened.
Luck had seemingly returned to ShadowClan. The greencough epidemic had ended with Smokeheart's death. The queens, kits, and elders moved back into their respective dens. Prey had become a bit more plentiful, ending the clan-wide fast. Lizardtail recovered from his depression and even went to visit his kits on a daily basis now. The kits had proved themselves to be happy and healthy, much to Hawkwing and Adderstar's relief.
Of course, it was the kits that caused IT to occur.
Lizardtail was on noon patrol with Badgerfur, Blackfoot, Foxtooth, and Mudstripe in search of prey to add to the fresh-kill pile. Ravenfeather was placed on kit-sitting duty while Lizardtail was away. The other queens were too busy watching over their own kits to assist the poor senior warrior. Despite his best efforts, he ended up losing track of the kits while they played their games in the camp.
Ravenfeather was to blame for letting IT happen, even if he didn't realize it.
Rowanclaw was stretched out in a patch of sunlight near the edge of camp, hidden behind some thick shrubbery. He was out of view, which was fine by him. He liked his privacy. The apprentices had a bad habit of pouncing on him if he dared lie in the open. When he found this particular spot, he deemed it his and came here to rest when he wanted to escape the chaos that was clan life in ShadowClan camp.
If he hadn't let his guard down, IT may have never happened to begin with.
The large dark brown tabby was stretched out on his back in the sun, his white belly facing the sky. He was calm, happy, content, and—most of all—warm. It was the perfect time of day to lie in the sun. There were no apprentices to pounce on him. His best friend was on noon patrol. He had no mate to bother him. Life was perfect.
Sadly, his life was about to be ruined by IT.
He hadn't even heard them coming, being so relaxed that he was practically asleep. The rustle of leaves and grass didn't even catch his attention. Rowanclaw was so at ease that even the feel of tiny noses brushing against his side didn't bother him. As far as he was concerned, it was nothing but a gentle breeze. Just one more thing to make his day even better.
His good day ended when tiny paws landed on him, noses digging into his stomach. Rowanclaw snapped awake instantly. "What in StarClan's name are yo—"
CHOMP!
"YEEEEEOOOOOOOOWWW!" Rowanclaw yowled, bolting upright instantly.
Four tiny, wriggling kittens promptly tumbled off of his belly, landing in a heap in front of him. Rowanclaw leaped to his paws, tail fluffed and back arched in alarm. His stomach hurt where the little scraps of fur had bitten him!
"What in StarClan's name do you think you're doing?!" he hissed, barring his fangs angrily.
All four kits looked up at him, eyes wide in curiosity and confusion. Two of them were white with black patches on them. One was gray and white. The last one was a wild mix of black and gray fur with a patch of white on his chest.
That's when Rowanclaw recognized them. They were Lizardtail's kits!
"Isn't Ravenfeather watching you?" he meowed cautiously. "What are you doing out here? And what were you doing to my stomach? That hurt, you know!"
The gray and white kit, a she-kit named Nettlekit if he remembered correctly, spoke up. "Are you our mommy?"
"I… Wh…" Rowanclaw stared at them in shock. "What…?"
"Mommy! You're our mommy, right?" the gray and black tom-kit, Thornkit, mewed.
"Feed us, mommy! We're hungry!" one of the black and white kits, a she-kit named Bramblekit, meowed loudly.
"I'm not your mother!" Rowanclaw meowed, ears pulled back and eyes wide in shock. "I'm not your father either! Go find Ravenfeather! He'll take you to Basilleaf! She'll feed you!"
"Food!" the black and white tom-kit, Thistlekit, mewed.
Thistlekit suddenly launched himself forward, sinking needle-sharp kitten teeth into the spot where his stomach and left hind leg connected. Rowanclaw yowled loudly, his cries doubling when the other three pounced and chomped on his underbelly. With a loud screech of agony, the tom shook the kits off and ran for the camp. The hungry kits followed, mewing for food.
"Basilleaf, save me!" Rowanclaw yowled. "They're eating me alive! I'm not a mother!"
The dark gray she-cat peered out of the nursery, holding back giggles upon seeing the usually laid-back warrior racing straight for the nursery with a pack of hungry kits on his tail. Without hesitation, the dark brown tabby flung himself into the nursery and dove behind Basilleaf. The she-cat purred upon the kits' arrival.
"Leave poor Rowanclaw alone, dears. He has no milk for you." Basilleaf meowed gently, reaching down to nuzzle each kit in turn.
"Why not?" Bramblekit mewed.
"Don't all mothers have milk?" Nettlekit mewed, confused.
"Rowanclaw isn't a mother," the dark gray she-cat meowed.
"He's not?" Thornkit mewed.
"But he's got nipples, like you!" Thistlekit meowed.
"GAH!" Rowanclaw's fur rose up in embarrassment. StarClan's whiskers! Aren't they too young to know about such things?
Basilleaf held back another laugh. "Yes, dears, Rowanclaw has nipples. All cats do, but not all cats are mothers. Only mothers can produce milk and feed you. Rowanclaw isn't a mother, so he can't feed you."
"Why not?" Bramblekit mewed.
"He's big like a mother," Thornkit mewed.
"Doesn't that mean he's got milk?" Nettlekit mewed.
Rowanclaw hung his head in shock. I'm not THAT big, am I? Not big enough to look pregnant!
Basilleaf couldn't help her laughter. "No, dears, Rowanclaw has no milk. I don't think he enjoyed you trying to nurse from him. Toms don't enjoy that."
"Is that why he ran? Because we bit him?" Thistlekit mewed.
"Yes," Basilleaf nodded. "Please don't do that to him again."
I'm glad I was in a private place when that happened, Rowanclaw thought in relief. Had anyone seen that, I'd never be able to live it down. My reputation in ShadowClan would be ruined!
"Now then, what have you learned today?" Basilleaf meowed.
"Big cats aren't always mothers!" Thornkit mewed.
"All cats have nipples!" Bramblekit mewed.
"Only mothers have milk!" Nettlekit mewed.
"Toms don't like to get bit!" Thistlekit mewed.
"Correct, all of you," Basilleaf meowed, smiling. She looked over her shoulder at Rowanclaw. "I think you're safe now, Rowanclaw. They shouldn't 'eat you alive' anymore now."
"Uh…yeah. Thanks…a lot," the dark brown tabby tom meowed, embarrassed.
Rowanclaw awkwardly left the nursery. Thankfully, no hungry kits followed him. He could feel the stares of his clanmates from all around the camp as he quickly padded back to his secret sunning spot. Sadly, it wasn't so secret anymore. Lizardtail's kits knew, even if it was by accident.
Hopefully, it never happens again, Rowanclaw prayed, flopping on the sunlit ground once more.
He ended up rolling on his back, though, to spare his stomach the pain of laying on it. His newfound paranoia of being jumped by hungry kittens instantly flared up. Who'd have thought kit teeth were so sharp? How in StarClan's name did queens deal with it all the time?
Thankfully, his day continued on peacefully. No more hungry kits, no more bites, no more running, and no more confusion over him being a queen. It had definitely been a rough day. Lizardtail was never informed of IT or Rowanclaw's involvement with IT.
Sadly, it wouldn't be the last time that IT would occur to Rowanclaw.