Chapter Text
There we were, just outside the abandoned Twoleg Nest. The bitter cold sliced through our fur, forcing me to shiver. Squirrelflight wasn't enjoying the cold any more than I was. The fact that she was even out here was a miracle. We hadn't talked at all since we left the camp. I was honestly afraid anything I said would set Squirrelflight off, and she'd either get obsessive again or bolt. There was never an in between before. Squirrelflight herself kept shooting glances at me, but I could tell she was holding her tongue, afraid that she'd somehow make me mad or say something too extreme. We were both here for a reason. Simply put, things weren't getting fixed, and we needed help to better understand the situation and try and sort this out. That's where Quartz came in. She'd told me before that we could talk to her whenever and she'd help us settle our issues.
Squirrelflight and I ducked inside quickly, trying to get free from the chilling wind. From what Father told me, Quartz liked using the right room as a den since it had no damaged windows so heat kept better. I heard the sound of eating as we approached, so I called out to Quartz.
"Quartz, are you there?" I mewed out, starting to push my way into the room.
The sound of eating stopped abruptly. Without the sound, I could make out that something was squirming and rustling. Had she caught a mouse alive in here? Finally clear of the barrier separating the room from the rest of the nest, I caught sight of something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Quartz was pinned down by some unknown rogue whose face was stained with blood. Their body was almost skeletal, and I could sense no sapience from this cat. It was feral. What made the sight all the worse was that I could see the wound on Quartz. This husk of a cat was eating Quartz alive.
Squirrelflight gasped as I burst into motion. The feral, seeing an approaching threat, tried to move to a defensive posture. Unfortunately for it, it was significantly weaker than I was. I slammed it hard into the wall, and I heard bones crack. It was an almost pitiable thing. If Quartz hadn't been so heavily pregnant, even she should have been able to fend it off. In our tussle and my rage, I broke all four of the rogue's legs. They had been fragile, almost as easy as breaking mouse bones. The rogue flailed wildly, desperate to survive, but I would not forgive it.
Squirrelflight hadn't been idle either. She rushed over to Quartz and tried to treat the wound with whatever was around. It honestly wasn't looking good. I bashed the rogue against the ground one more time to knock it out before joining her. The damage to Quartz was significant. I could see part of her intestines pulled out and even bitten through. What worried me more was the kit. Quartz moaned with pain as I felt for the kit itself. Thankfully, the rogue hadn't gotten to them yet, but with Quartz dying, there wasn't much hope. That's when a wild and desperate idea came to mind. If it failed, it would merely kill Quartz and the kit faster, but if it succeeded…
"Quartz, can you here me?" I mewed to the dying queen.
Quartz met my eyes, weakly noddind.
"Quartz, I am so sorry, but we can't save you. At best, I can try to save the kit." I mewed solemnly.
Through a ragged gasp, I thought I heard her say "Please…"
What I planned to do next would hurt, likely a lot for the queen already toeing the line of Starclan. It was my only option, and I couldn't afford to be imprecise. I dragged the unconscious rogue over, lining up his neck so Quartz could bite it, an improvisation of the sticks we use during births.
"Bite down. I need all my concentration to save the kit. I can't afford to be distracted by sound." I ordered.
Quartz, with some measure of vengeance, but down hard on the rogue's throat. As she kept her grip, I moved to her belly. The kit was still in here. I just needed to get it out. I had to pull the intestines aside which disturbingly wriggled around on the ground as I worked. After having to move several organs, I found it, a barrier between her belly and the growing kit. I had to cut it. What I would have given to have my former claws for this. Squirrelflight had to hold Quartz's belly open as I began to cut with my claws. It was something that felt wrong to do. All the blood made it difficult to see what I was doing, but I continued. My claws clipped something and an ooze of brownish grey liquid oozed from the wound, likely the amnionic sac. It meant I had gotten into the right area. Forcing the hole wider, I saw the tiny form. Unfortunately, I had to reach in with my claws to hook it to a point I could reach and grab. From Quartz's body, I pulled one tiny little kit, my little sister. Quartz had grown still at this point as I lifted the kit free. Thankfully, the kit was moving. I heard the tiniest little mew as the kit cleared its lungs and had its first breath in the world. The kit was alive, but my actions to free it hadn't been entirely safe. When I'd hooked it, my claws had scratched the back of the kit's neck. It was bleeding, and given its smaller body, I had no clue how much I actually hurt her.
"We've got to get back to the medicine den!" I mewed quickly, knowing that this kit was still on borrowed time.
Squirrelflight, understanding the severity of the situation, moved next to me. "I can carry the kit. I've got longer fur." She mewed.
The cold outside was strong, and the kit was still wet. It would not be enough. Then another idea came to mind.
"I think I am strong enough to carry you. If we keep the kit between us, our body heat should keep it safe." I replied seriously.
Squirrelflight took up the idea, clambering on top of me and positioning the kit between my back and her chest fur. It would be sheltered from the cold. I was sad that none of us could remain to bury Quartz yet, but the kit took priority. I rushed as quickly as I could back with the weight of both Squirrelflight and the kit, but it was slow since I really didn't want to toss either of them. When we entered camp, Father was instantly upon me.
"What's going on?" He mewed with worry.
"We need a medicine cat now!" I answered. "We've got an injured newborn kit."
That instantly got the camp into motion. Father ensured that no one was in our way as I ducked into the medicine den. Leafpool was not there, but Father and Roseclaws soon joined us.
"Where's Leafpool?" I queried.
"She's gone into labor in the nursery. It's a complicated one, so Brightheart needs to focus on it. We'll just have to make do." Roseclaws answered.
"Of all the rotten luck. We've all at least learned a bit of medicine. Hopefully between us all, we're worth one competent medicine cat." Squirrelflight mewed, getting off me.
The neck wound on the kit meant grabbing its scruff would be a no go. We'd exacerbated it enough so far. Instead, we'd treat the kit with it still on top of my back. Battle medicine was at least something we were well skilled in applying. The neck wound had missed anything vital, so it was just blood loss. The kit was patched up as well as we could manage, and its steady breathing reassured us that they were still alive. Father curled up with my little sister, collapsing with relief at how close that had been. I informed him of the full circumstances of the kit's entrance to life. Tears dotted his eyes at the mention of the loss of Quartz. They may not have been mates, but he considered her a friend. He was grateful that Quartz hung on long enough for the kit to be saved.
It was only after Leafpool had her kits and stumbled over did we get a full assessment of the kit's wound. The good news was that the wound wouldn't hamper them physically, and they were an overall healthy kit. The bad news was that it had curled around the kit's throat and damaged her throat. The coming scar tissue wouldn't inhibit her ability to breathe, but she likely would never be able to speak. The scar would make her throat too inflexible to properly talk like us. She'd be effectively mute. I felt sorry for my little sister, but Father got this determined look in his eye.
"If she can't speak, well that just means we'll need to make another way for her to communicate with us. We've got time and some of the smartest cats around. I'm sure we'll figure out something." He mewed determinedly.
"Now that she's out of danger, what do you want to name her?" Leafpool asked while getting ready to return to the nursery to care for her kits.
Father had a look of concentration before he spoke. "Quartz told he her family has a tradition of naming their first born after gems. I want to keep that for her. I also want her to bear a name that represents resilience. Her orange coloration with black accents makes me think of one kind of gem most. She shall be named Amberkit."
Amberkit, my darling little sister, I promise you that I shall never let you be hurt like that again. We may not share blood, but we are family, and I am willing to kill anyone who hurts this family. Grow strong little sister. I'm sure someday you'll want to defend us as well.