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His home had grown much noisier over the past two years. Nepeta had made good on her promises to inflict him with 'kittens', two of which were currently slumbering somewhere around his feet while he sat silently in his favorite chair. Apparently, natural-born werecats never went through a wriggler-phase, and were born much like the humans were. Karkat had had no knowledge as to how exactly human children were born, but watching Nepeta in labor it became exceedingly obvious that they were brought into the world in a maelstrom of blood and screaming.
No wonder all the humans he knew were so horrible. With such an auspicious beginning as all that. Panthe and Tigris were absolutely perfect, however, probably because they took after their mother.
He was much relieved to be able to dote on Chyura's egg when it was laid, even if it had to go about that business himself. Nepeta had been a loving and attentive mate during his egg-swollen 'pregnancy', though she herself expressed that she didn't quite know what to do with Chyura once she'd hatched. Why did she have grub legs? Where was her fur?
Karkat hadn't been able to keep himself from freaking out a little about the fact that his two oldest children had been born as actual kittens, so perhaps they were even on that front.
Panthe and Tigris were now just about old enough to be shifting into their troll-forms, though Panthe seemed especially stubborn not to. Felide told him that Nepeta had been the same way, so it wasn't something to be worried about.
Moving into a large communal home with Carcin and Felide had been an odd decision, but Nepeta's drive to be with her mother now that she'd whelped was too strong for anything else. “The cubs will need their Matriarch,” she'd kept repeating, which seemed nonsensical at the time because Felide lived literally down the road.
But now it made sense. Physical proximity was apparently hugely important to growing werecat cubs, who always seemed to be clinging to one person or another. Karkat looked up from the snoozing faces of his children to gaze softly at Nepeta, who was passed out asleep on their bed with a teething Chyura chewing sleepily on her hair. Their youngest had finally grown out of her wriggler stage, which made her only less slightly likely to be accidentally stepped on somehow.
Their children were a rainbow of colors all in their own. Tigris had turned out a kind of light fawn brown, while his twin Panthe was more of a pale seafoam green. Chyura had taken after her father with her blood hue, though was more of a natural-looking scarlet, much to his secret relief. She'd be less likely to be hounded by Carcin's church because she lacked the distinctive bright red.
Nepeta stirred, eyes blinking slowly open. Chyura chirred at her, one baby-tiny hand coming up to pap her mother on her cheek. She was undoubtedly their sweetest child, and the calmest, which was an unending source of amusement for the villagers, considering that she took after Karkat the most in the looks department. Panthe, who had rolled over to flop over Karkat's left foot in her sleep, was their little firecracker, a cinnamon-furred hellcat. Tigris, curled against his twin's back, was comically serious and seemed to take all the duties of the world upon his tiny shoulders. Karkat and Nepeta had their hands full.
“I know that Felide said it was normal for them to be in their were forms all the time when they're this little, but she never really explained why,” he said quietly, watching as Nepeta dislodged Chyura from her hair.
“It takes a lot of energy and concentration to stay in our troll form,” she murmured. “The were form is the one we're born in, and is actually our...more natural form, I guess. We learn all of our senses and our powers that way, and is the first body we know how to live in. It's easier.”
Karkat mulled that over, wincing when Panthe's claws nicked the skin of his foot in her sleep. “So, why aren't you always in your were form?”
She smiled softly, sleepily, and his heart pounded with affection for her. “This is the form that you and the humans are more used to, and it's easier to communicate this way.” After a moment, she added, “Plus less people ask to ride on your back when you're a troll.”
Roxy was a continuous offender of that particular faux pas, he knew.
She crooked her finger at him, and he rose from his chair and gathered Panthe and Tigris into his arms to shuffle over to the bed and flop onto it with her, the twins only wriggling about grumpily in protest before quieting and falling back asleep. They had about four more hours of peace until Panthe was up and about and ready to wreak havoc, and Karkat intended to spend it curled up with his matesprit.