[Deleted]

Death. Black trees, charcoal soil, and no prey to be found. Pretty flowers and herbs poked through the rich, ashen ground teasingly, bragging of their prosperity and success. The small brown she-kit swatted a sweet-smelling pink flower, though her blow was weak, and the stem absorbed the blow effortlessly without breaking. The blossom bounced up brightly, sucking in sunlight, unphased by the kitten's existence. Stupid flower. She thought, moving on.

It hurt slightly, though she didn't know if it was the lack of food or the lack of acknowledgement that hurt most.

There aren't even good bugs to eat here. She said to herself. Short legs carried her onward, though her senses were dulled. She had survived a moon on her own, though only just. Dusty, dull skin wrapped tightly around stark, sprung ribs. The chocolate brown kitten was nearly a ghost, and perhaps a windy day would have carried her to the mountains. Her mind was numb, though her heart skipped a beat when she noticed a fat, black cricket pouncing through the gardens. The she-kit crouched sloppily, legs wobbly and unstable. One leap, and her paws had captured it. She felt the creature wriggling under her paws, though almost without hesitation, the kitten inhaled her catch voraciously.

Though little did she know it wasn't just hunger making her fatigued. There hadn't been a drop of water around for what felt like miles.

The brown kitten found refuge from the sun in a slender, limbless shadow of a charred tree trunk. She curled up in a grave of ash, waiting for the sun to sink away. It felt like days, though she knew it couldn't have even been one. She awoke after a long nap as the sun was sinking beneath the mountains, its rich glow turning the world a fiery amber.

These black, dead woods never looked more like hell.

The kitten's body ached, a soft sneeze shaking her to the bone. I'm still tired. She thought drearily, exhaustion, dehydration, and starvation pulling her into a otherworldly haze. The kitten scooted under a bay leaf bush with a loud rustle, pressing beneath its boughs in search of relief.

Relief from the pains in her stomach, head, and heart. 

"Ow! You stupid bush!" She hissed as a twig jabbed into her spine. It made her bounce clumsily to her paws. She swatted at a branch laden with bay leaves angrily, though she quickly gave up disciplining a plant. She was awake now. She may as well spend her energy doing something useful, though her paws felt as heavy as mountains. The kitten sat back on her haunches and stared into the darkness, memories flashing of blood and her mother's fur, her bloodcurdling cries turning the kitten cold. Stupid mother. Why didn't she just leave me and survive? She thought, shaking slightly.

The little brown kitten had never felt so lost and deprived. How could life have turned so foul so fast?


Fawn @zen

[Fawn]

You're not supposed to be here. Nettleheart's mutinous thoughts showed themselves in her agitated pace and the restless to-and-fro flick of her tail every couple of heartbeats. When Nettleheart had pulled Cricketpaw out of camp tonight, she'd purposefully done so with the intention of avoiding Buckfur.

But somehow, the big fluffy tom had found them in the middle of a hunting excursion, and when he'd asked so nicely to join them - in that warm, friendly voice of his that set her stomach on edge - Nettleheart hadn't been able to say what she wanted.

'No you can't tag along, you stupid furball. I can't mentor your sister if you're staring at me! Get out of my fur!'

Instead, those words shrank and condensed, twisting into the obnoxiously curt 'yeah sure' that led to Nettleheart's current predicament.

The calico warrior had fallen silent, stewing in her own discomfort over Buckfur's presence. There was something about him, something similar to Briarthroat, that threatened to curb some of her sharpness. The last time she'd let anyone take some of the fight out of her system, it had come around to rip her heart out. Try as she might to push Buckfur away, the memory of him staying with her and searching for Briarthroat over sharp rock and endless mountain scrub just wouldn't leave her alone.

Nettleheart couldn't brush him off like a bunch of cobwebs.

Foxdung, she cursed, trying to ignore Buckfur long enough to treat Cricketpaw like she would normally. "You have the whole forest at your claws, Cricketpaw." Nettleheart stopped in her tracks, looking to the puffball she was in charge of. "We're not going back to camp until you catch something. And you," she gave Buckfur as fierce a look as she could muster. "No helping her."

Cricketpaw was cute in a 'look-at-me-I'm-so-helpless' sort of way, but 'cute' wasn't going to fill her belly or protect her from danger. Buckfur's protectiveness wouldn't do anyone any favors right now. Least of all Cricketpaw. Nettleheart lowered her haunches to the forest floor, preparing herself to watch Cricketpaw's latest attempts when an unfamiliar scent hit her like a branch in a windstorm.

The high-pitched cry of a kit came seconds after.

"Ow! You stupid bush!"

Nettleheart's fur prickled, the short ginger, black and white coat not particularly impressive in appearance. Her posture more than made up for it, the she-cat slinking along the needled floor quick as a fox. What she found was a little brown kitten, no bigger than an owl pellet, looking thin and filthy with what must have been days worth of grime.

Nettleheart, who had never been blessed with maternal instincts, stared at it with muted confusion. What? What was a kit doing here? Flashbacks of her own messy arrival into NightClan territory made her spine stiffen, and a small part of her mind screamed at the similarities between herself and the NightClan party that found her even as she stalked over, cautious. "You're not supposed to be here, fuzzball. Find your mother before you get eaten."

If you still have one.

That brutal little thought stoppered some of Nettleheart's fierceness, and she spoke in a slightly softer, huskier voice. "Are you hurt?"

Nettleheart

30 moons. nightclan warrior. 533 words.

Abyss @jet Ghost the Undead Goddess

[Abyss]

It had been a normal occurrence. Cricketpaw was pulled away from the comfort of being at her brother’s side by her mentor, who never seemed happy to see her. They went out for some training, which usually resulted in Cricketpaw being told to survive by herself or do something she hadn’t been taught.

But it wasn’t normal for long. Soon, the small Apprentice found a source of happiness making its way towards her and her mentor. Big brother Buckfur had come to the rescue. As her large tabby brother approached, a large smile appeared on the little she-cat’s face as she made a few small bounds, burying her face momentarily in his super fluffy chest. If it hadn’t been for her mentor, she would have stayed there, getting herself lost in her brother’s absurd amount of fur. But she knew that doing this too long would cause Nettle to grow mad, so she pulled away, hesitantly slinking away from the comfort of her brother’s warmth and back towards the calico she-cat.

Thankfully, when Buckfur asked to join the little trip, Nettleheart agreed. This did make Cricketpaw extremely happy, though she tried as hard as she could not to show it. She wanted to avoid the wrath of her mentor as much as possible.

Sooner or later, when the trio stopped, her mentor informed her that Cricket was going to be hunting, and that they wouldn’t be going back to camp until she caught something. This did make her extremely nervous, but, for once, this didn’t really show. If anything, the black and white she-cat seemed almost eager to do this, which was strange for her. Her gaze shifted briefly to her brother before she turned and scanned the area around them. She needed to show Buckfur what she was learning. It wasn’t much just yet, but she still needed to try. She wanted to make him proud of her.

Though, the task was cut short as there was a sudden cry in the distance. Ears perked, Cricketpaw looked in the direction of the sound just as her calico mentor went zooming passed her, body close to the ground and legs moving quickly. Startled, the black and white she-cat followed, temporarily forgetting about her brother. When they reached the source of the sound, she was surprised to find that there was a kit. She didn’t recognize this kit, nor did it smell familiar. Where had it come from? It was smaller than she was, so there was no way it was her age. Granted, Cricketpaw was small for an Apprentice, but she was still bigger than this little one.

Nettleheart spoke, stating that the kit wasn’t supposed to be there, her voice scratchy as always. Though, when she spoke again her voice was calmer and less aggressive. Choosing that it was better to let the bigger cats take care of this, Cricketpaw stayed silent.
483

Fawn @jet Ghost the Undead Goddess

[Deleted]

The small brown kitten lurched backwards as a calico she-cat melted from the fading light. The she-kit's pelt fluffed up pathetically, eyes widening as two more shapes appeared by the stranger's side. Fear made the brown kit's heart patter like the paws of an anxious mouse. The warrior's rough comment, although followed by what was questionably concern, made the kitten's amber eyes spark with a rebellious fire. Is she belittling me? The small kitten thought, eyes squinting slightly with suspicion and indignance.

"What are you doing here? Who are you?" She questioned, glancing around uncomfortably.

It took only an instant for the kitten to drink it all in. They were familiar with one another just by the way they moved as a group. The fluffy ones had to be related. The bay kitten glanced back and forth between the three, face lighting up a bit when she came down to the only thing that made sense.

The calico was mated with the fluffy tom and that fuzzball was their kit. Right? Right.

The brown kitten perked up slightly, confidence calming her racing heart and offering her a couple bouncy and lighthearted steps towards the trio with a smile, amber gaze shifting towards the smaller of the two long-haired cats.

"What's your name? Your mom is beautiful! That must be your dad! Oh, he is handsome!" The kitten's tail was straight as a stick, poking electrically from her rump as exuberant words erupted from her maw. The small brown kitten teetered forward towards the large tom, attempting to walk between his front legs and under his belly, amber eyes wide with wonder as she digested his immense size. "I hope I end up as big and strong as you one day!"

Just knowing that she wasn't alone in this world kindled a flame of hope in the kitten's chest. Maybe they know where some tasty bugs are! She thought, stomach churning and rumbling angrily. She stopped moving forward for just a moment in time, shaking slightly with excitement.

Her hunger wasn't just yearning for food, and feeling the touch of another cat filled a piece of her soul that died the day her mother did. The kitten tried to bury herself against the large tom, wishing for a nap in his long, soft fur.

"You're so fluffy!" She squeaked in awe.


Abyss Fawn Ghost the Undead Goddess

[Ghost the Undead Goddess]

Rewrite your history

A steady purr rumbled within the massive tomcat's chest as he trailed lazily after the two she-cats. He had trailed after Nettleheart and his younger sister when they had left camp, asking the prickly warrioress if he could tag along. Though, it wasn't to step on toes or help mentor.

He honestly just enjoyed being around Nettleheart.

Upon her grumbling, almost begrudgingly allowing him to join them and at her demand to not help, the fluffy tom couldn't help but give a chuckle. "As you wish." He said in that deep rumble of his, flickering his plume tail and dipping his head in respect towards her wishes.

Glancing at Cricketpaw, those warm green pools twinkled before he gave a wink of encouragement towards the gentlest and smallest of the five half-siblings. Though she was practically scared of everything, Buckfur believed in the little black and white she-cat.

The startling, surprising noise of a kit was the last thing the large warrior was expecting to hear in the middle of Nightclan's pine forests. They currently had an empty nursery, all the kits now six moons and apprenticed for Leaf-fall, but then came a brown kitten trodding from the underbrush.

Buckfur flicked an ear at Nettleheart's sharp retort before it softened at her next response. Though it went unspoken, the black and brown marbled tomcat was well aware of the fact that the calico she-cat had been found wandering the forest as an orphaned kit.

Perhaps her heart had been tugged by memories.

Padding forwards, Buckfur gave silent comfort in letting his lengthy coat brush against her side as he gave the shekit a friendly smile. Her exuberant change in attitude brought another chuckle from the large warrior's maw as questions squeaked from the brown kit.

Giving a sideways glance to Nettleheart, amused with the status of the questions, Buckfur went to correct and educate the youngster. "Actually, my name is Buckfur and Cricketpaw is my sister." He nodded to the small, black and white she-cat behind him before looking at the warrioress beside him.

"And this is our clanmate, Nettleheart." The big tom lowered himself to the ground, letting his nose pause inches from the kit, "But, I think she is beautiful too." He gave a cheesy grin, though the brilliant light within his green gaze showed the honesty of the complement.

He had grown rather fond of Nettleheart within the past moons. Found himself yearning to be around her, even if she was in a grumpy, frumpy mood.

"What is your name little one? Are you hungry?" He asked, tilting his head as he heard the faint rumble of a stomach, knowing it wasn't coming from any of the three NIghtclanners. He rather liked kits, and he wasn't about to let this little one starve.

Light up your wildest dreams

BuCKfUr

31 Moons Warrior NightClan

@jet Fawn Abyss || 480 words || notes

[Fawn]

"What's your name? Your mom is beautiful! That must be your dad! Oh, he is handsome!"

Nettleheart's fur spiked like a porcupine's. She looked as if someone had raked frogspawn into her eyes, her lips curled back in shock. She thinks I'm WHAT? Nettleheart shuddered. She was no cat's mother, the very idea of it made her so uncomfortable, she felt her claws unsheathe, as if she wanted to shred the idea into tiny, irreparable pieces.

"Listen up you little--"

The kitten had simply bounced and squeaked right past her, like some sort of too-big too-loud mouse, seemingly in awe of Buckfur's size and fur. But it wasn't the fuzzy little pest that halted the words on Nettleheart's tongue. Buckfur had leaned in, his tone and actions projecting the kind of disarming warmth the kit probably needed, and spoke just loud enough for her to hear...


"And this is our clanmate, Nettleheart. But, I think she is beautiful too."

W-What?

Nettleheart's insides turned to liquid, and then they superheated, evaporating until the blood in her veins was nothing but bubbly confusion. Why would he say that? Why would he say that to this kit, and then grin as if he'd let someone in on a great big secret? What game are you playing? What do you want from me? Nettleheart stared at him, her gaze questioning and a tiny bit scared. Cats didn't compliment her. At least not on her looks. Her coat wasn't long and luxurious or feathery like Graywolf's, and her eyes were a duller yellow compared to other cats in the Clan.

What would Buckfur possibly see in her?

Despite being thrown head-first into a metaphorical sinkhole, time continued on around Nettleheart, pulling her back into it with the pitiful gurgle of the kit's stomach. Nettleheart's insides squeezed as if in sympathy. She remembered that feeling. Her first encounter with NightClan hadn't been anything like this. No friendly giant to grin at her, that was for frickin' sure.

"Cricketpaw," Nettleheart snapped to her apprentice suddenly. "Look around. See if there's any more cats skulking around that shouldn't be."

Her attention went back to the kit still marveling at Buckfur.

"Where's your mother? You're going to get eaten if you stay out here by yourself." Nettleheart insisted again, concentrating hard on the kit, even if Buckfur's namesake threatened to invade her peripheral vision. She just couldn't seem to get away from him; not that she'd tried very hard...

Nettleheart

30 moons. nightclan warrior. 410 words.

@jet Ghost the Undead Goddess Abyss