[noctali]

It was the dead of night. Aside from the midnight patrol that was just leaving, there was very little activity in camp. A gentle rumbling of snores could be heard from various dens, including the nursery. 

Well, all but one cat in the nursery was asleep. 

Mottledkit woke up to find Shrikekit's tail idly laying against her face where she was curled up with him and their mother. Purring in amusement, Mottledkit moved it gently, admiring the way it idly twitched in her brother's sleep. Leaving him and their mother to their (hopefully pleasant) dreams, Mottledkit picked her way out of her nest and trotted into camp without being disturbed or seen. 

During the day, the main body of the camp was a hustle and bustle of activity - cats moving to and fro, apprentices bringing fresh kill to elders and nursing queens, Lionstar and Pumafang discussing orders... but at night, when nothing was happening? Mottledkit was simply enjoying the peace and quiet.

That is, until something caught her eye from the direction of Lionstar's den. A tail-tip! Twitching like mad! 

Her ears pricked, she cautiously, paw by paw, made her way as stealthily as possible toward the mouth of the den. Her hearing told her that Lionstar was fast asleep inside, gentle steady breathing giving way to the occasional snuffly snore. 

Well, he wouldn't be asleep for much longer, at any rate...

Observing the rhythm of the twitchy tail in front of her, Mottledkit's heart began to beat along the same lines. Going up on her haunches, she wiggled along with the rhythm.

Wiggle, wiggle... wiggle, wiggle.

And then... She pounced!

Fawn | 272 | Who needs sleep anyway?

[Fawn]

Lionstar

The crown is getting heavy
But they've written my name in the stars

Lionstar was midway into a grooming session when he felt a weight - and tiny thistle-sharp claws - land on his tail. He grunted in surprise and then looked behind himself, seeing the mottled form of the appropriately named Mottledkit. Lionstar grinned, his face contorting with a 'ferocious growl' as he reached out a paw to scoop her in towards him. "Who dares enter the lion's lair? I think I smell a TreeClan warrior in front of me!"

If Honeysong had not gone on the midnight patrol, he would have been quieter (doom upon he who wakes their sleeping mate), but as such he had the den all to himself. Respite was always cherished, but Mottledkit had caught him in a state of semi-consciousness, waiting for the patrol to return with the news that all was well.

Besides, why curl up to sleep by himself, when Honeysong's presence was as soothing as chamomile? This was his payback for attending gatherings without her. Many a night had he come home, tired of all the chatter and the hustle and bustle of so many assembled Clans, to find Honeysong faithfully waiting up for him.

I've been building up all these kingdoms for so long
It's good to be king

114 Moons || TreeClan || 198 Words || noctali