Double Trouble. [Hollykit] Feb 13, 2015 0:02:03 GMT -5
Post by Insidious on Feb 13, 2015 0:02:03 GMT -5
P I K E K I T
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He would never understand why he was expected to sleep when he wasn’t tired, but perhaps, with time, the others would learn that it would take more than their words to put him in his place and keep him out of trouble. Having let his eyelids flutter closed with all the innocence and the fatigue of a kitten back from playing, he feigned a light, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest until Roselight rested her head, satisfied, and went to sleep, unsuspecting that her mischevious son would dare to deceive her and scramble out of the nursery the second that an opening was presented.
The older cats were easily fooled, and it did little to quell the tiny kitten’s already formulating sense of self, tail arched proudly over-top his black furred spine as he trotted away from the camp. The fact that he was expected to stay inside of the nursery at all times, sometimes having the privilege to play outside with his sisters, only increased his desire to disobey. He didn’t like the rules. He didn’t like their strictness. He especially didn’t like that he was actually expected to listen to them. With everyone fast asleep, nobody could tell him that what he was doing was dangerous, and he took that as permission.
Away from camp, everything somehow seemed so much bigger. The kitten’s eyes were round with awe, unaware that his paws were leading him towards the border with NightClan, his sense of smell not yet attuned to the way that the scents differentiated around him. Only when it began to feel a little soggy underfoot did he realize that he might have traveled too far, and maybe even gotten himself a little lost, but he, of course, was too prideful to admit that he might have made a mistake, and so he pressed onward with renewed determination.
Until he couldn’t press onward anymore.
He nearly face-planted into the disgusting muck when he tried to lift his paw, his limb sucked right back into the sludge, not nearly strong enough to dislodge himself from the mess he had gotten himself into without some assistance. Pikekit glanced around cautiously, torn between calling out for help, as was the sensible thing to do, or holding his breath and trying to free himself on his own. It would be so embarrassing if someone had to help him; he couldn’t imagine what his parents would say when they found out, or what they would do to him later when they woke up and he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. That was all the encouragement he needed to make the wrong decision, reluctantly pulling at his limbs and only making a bigger mess of things in the process, the rest of his body succumbing to the sludge and causing him to sink a little farther than was comfortable. The kitten arched his neck, nose wrinkling in distaste, his pinkish underside now coloured a gross shade of blackish-brown.
No matter what. No matter what he would not ask anyone for help.
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Word Count: 510.