@Seuss
Like Deimos said, you can start with 1-5 cats if you are restarting
Like Deimos said, you can start with 1-5 cats if you are restarting
amethyst14 wrote:I have been wondering, but for those of you that have been here in CaC. What is the biggest clan size you have seen? How many cats did they have?(use an estimate if you cant remember)
zephyrine wrote:
@amethyst
ooh, i think the biggest one i've seen is vamp's jinxclan with fifty-nine cats.... :O
deimos wrote:
@amethyst14 - up until they decided to start over, I'm Joy, who owned StreamClan had about maybe 60 cats??? :0
There was never a feeling so unearthly like the sight of a dead kitten.
Lizardstripe would know, the junkyard he had grown up in was anything but forgiving, especially towards the young. It was more often then not that the stench of death filled the senses near collapsed piles of junk or crudely dug holes, it only took some scavenging to uncover the deceased, and as a scavenger - that was exactly what Lizardstripe had done. It succeeded each and every time to send the tom into a panic, made even worse by his father, who often forced him to continue working without any sign of sympathy for his young son.
He hoped to escape death when he first joined PineClan when he was hardly six moons old, and he almost did, for many peaceful moons he had nearly forgotten the terror of his former life in his personal prison for seasons until the birth of Shadowstar's kits. Lizardstripe just knew something wrong was going to happen then, as he was acquainted with the same agonized wails the first leader had made with nearly all the births in the awful junkyard he spent his kithood in. It wasn't surprising to see that one her of own died two moons after. It hurt him, sure. But he wasn't surprised.
He just hoped that after that he would never had to remember it again, and the moment his mate first told him she was expecting every thought of that day was just prayers to StarClan to keep her and their kits safe. Evidently the stars didn't listen, he didn't know why, he mused that perhaps they didn't pay attention to cats like him. But he immediately understood things were going terribly wrong the moment he heard Rosemask's pained yowls, and his fear increased tenfold just by observing how Shadepaw acted when she frantically came out of the nursery.
Soon after, Lizardstripe became the father of three kits, five had two of them not been born dead. He and Rosemask were beyond devastated, she was almost inconsolable, the cheerful molly he fell in love with replaced by a mourning mother who was shell shocked by what just happened. He managed to bring her out of her frozen state long enough to think of names for their litter and settled on Birchkit and Ashkit for their daughters, and Elmkit for their son.
They weren't sure if it was appropriate for them to give names to their deceased, but Lizardstripe once heard a tale from Skunknose when she was still the medicine cat that if a dead kit was unnamed they would not be able to rest and would sap the strength from the next expecting mother, and he did not another another molly to go through the pain they were experiencing now, so they named the two Firkit and Cedarkit - a molly and a tom. Rosemask gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, saying that the names they chose fit their kits just perfectly, and went to sleep.
Lizardstripe was the only parent who attended the funeral, it was too risky to let Rosemask out of the nursery while her kits were still young and weak due to the rough birth after all. Firkit and Cedarkit were buried under a younger pine tree, close by the same area Shadowstar and Owlfur had found him when he first ventured onto PineClan's lands. Lizardstripe was silent throughout the whole ceremony, staring at the recently covered graves while Mintstar meowed her condolences and let Weaselstorm take over with a prayer for both kits to reach StarClan safely.
Most of the cats who had come left a while ago - it was only him, Weaselstorm, Shadepaw, and surprisingly Larkclaw who stayed. Lizardstripe cast a long glance at his kithood bully, who lived a spoiled life in the junkyard as he was the self-appointed leader's son as well as the tom's only heir. Larkclaw used to flaunt his status towards anyone of lower rank, and because he was trained to fight over the slightest provocation, he was known for having a violent reputation. Now he was known as the oddly eccentric warrior who met Lizardstripe's gaze with a rare emotion on his face: sympathy.
Lizardstripe scoffed at him, tearing his eyes away from the brown tabby and towards the medicine cat and his apprentice. The former had his eyes locked onto the sky while his pupil stared at the ground, her back was turned towards him, so Lizardstripe was unaware of the guilt she was currently feeling over not being able to save his kits. The silence slowly starting to kill him, but with Weaselstorm here, the warrior had plenty of things on his mind he could say that would break it.
"Why didn't you save them?" He asked, his voice hollow with grief.
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