the butterfly hunt {open}

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It was like a bunch of beautiful butterflies and ladybugs flying about, bringing color to everything to Bumblebelly as he watched the sun rise. The sky was currently an assortment of deep oranges, brilliant yellows, and rosy purples. The tom watched with wide eyes as everything just grew lighter. "I'll never get used to how beautiful a sunrise is, Apple!" the bright ginger feline gushed happily to the beautiful calico next to him.

Tearing his amber gaze from the medley of colors, he turned to look at his friend with a wide grin. She was definitely beautiful with her pristine white pelt that held ginger and black blotches. Those eyes of hers sucked one in with a gentle, loving force. The color reminded Bumblebelly of the grasshoppers Apple so loved to pounce on with him. Any heterosexual male would fall in love at first sight with such a beautiful she-cat, but the young warrior felt nothing aside from deep-running friendship for her. Of course, it wasn't all that surprising since Bumblebelly was as open as a book about his homosexuality. What was surprising- at least to him- was that no one could see or hear her!

"Oh, neither can I, Sunny! Isn't it just a heavenly sight?" her soft, melodic voice rang and made Bumblebelly's crooked grin soften to a fond smile. "Yes, it is! It reminds me of your pelt, actually! There are darks and lights and they all meld so gorgeously." he mused, voice loud in the sleeping camp. This didn't seem to occur to the male as he stood and bounced from paw to paw to relieve his sleeping limbs. Not used to sitting still for so long, the slender warrior felt pinpricks crawl up his well-muscled legs and whimpered like a kitten. "Thyme! why do my legs feel all prickly?" he sniffled, tears welling in his eyes at the painful sensation running up and down his legs.

The long-furred gray tabby laughed at her friend and merely smiled with amusement at her wailing friend. "No worries, Sunny. The tingles will subside soon. They are only from you sitting still so long." her pale, aloe green eyes glowed as Bumblebelly pranced about to shake the feeling form his body.

It was then that the ginger warrior spotted a beautiful beautiful fluttering nearby. It was orange with black accents and quite large. The sight made him pause before dashing toward the gorgeous creature. Completely absorbed in the chase, Bumblebelly hardly noticed when he scrambled over a sleeping Spider who opened his amber eyes to growl at him. Then, he narrowly missed Otter who was busy trying not to make it obvious he was ogling at Apple whom trailed behind Bumblebelly excitedly.

The rest of Bumblebelly's friends had been gone since Fogheart had given him some poppy seeds and the usual wrap of herbs to keep him calm. It saddened him, but he supposed it was because they didn't like the chamomile or something.

The butterfly swooped into the warrior's den and Bumble was after it in a heartbeat. The silly tom ignored the grunts, hisses and snarls at him from his fellow warriors while his gaze was firmly locked on his prey. Orange easily distracted Bumblebelly as well as butterflies, so the mix was prone to make him even further oblivious to his surroundings.

Tearing up nests in his haste, the feline scampered out of the den as fast as he'd arrived in it and followed the monarch into the apprentice den. There, he pounced at it when it landed on the haunch of Coalpaw which earned him both a glare and a swipe at his face; however, he only cared for his prize. So, he left the grumpy black tom to go about his business and leaped over a slumbering Leopardpaw only to slam face first into the den wall right next to the insect he followed.

This dazing him, the ginger furball stumbled after it and sighed when it was nowhere to be found. Where did you go, friend? Our game of tag hasn't ended yet! his voice called over the grumbles and scolding voices of his peers. Bumblebelly had yet to realize he was in trouble because of his desperation to find what he'd been chasing. Flexing his claws into the soft earth, his wide gaze searched for his prize with panic and sadness. "Come back..." he mewled.

words: 729
notes: Bumble, you nerd XD
tags: open!

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His broad paws crushed the earth as he moved over it. Little buds were just beginning to sprout, the forewarnings of spring. The dirt was soft beneath his paws, cushioned by days of nourishing rain. The chill and ice had slowly melted from the air, leaving a sense that warmth would soon descend. Unlike many, the cold didn’t perturb Sedgewhisker. He was a thick tom, with long shaggy fur. And the snow, the still air that felt like falling icicles, rarely pierced his thick fur. It was a blessing, of sorts, he assumed. Though it did little to aid him during the hot summer months. He paused, his paw hovering over its intended track. He could have sworn a snap had echoed through the trees. He narrowed his eyes, peering. But there was nothing. Only blurred shades of browns and greens greeted him behind his near vision. He turned his head sharply away, a hiss of frustration escaping from between his lips. His sight was failing him. In a matter of moons, precious weeks, perhaps it would fail altogether. And what would be next to go? He couldn’t allow himself to think this way. He was a warrior, nothing more. He wouldn’t allow such fragility to consume him, not the way it had consumed his brother – Owltalon. The thought of his brother brought on memories, memories he spent the better part of his days avoiding.

Sedgekit and Owlkit sat huddled together near the entrance of the Nursery. Their foster mother, Fawnblossom, was busy far behind them – fussing over her own biological kittens. Unlike Sedgekit and Owlkit, her kits were newly born, they still mewled and tottered about on unsteady paws. Fawnblossom had granted her two foster-sons freedoms, trusting them – perhaps unwisely- to keep to themselves. It was because of this that Owlkit and Sedgekit found themselves on the threshold of the entrance, staring straight into Thunderclan’s main clearing. Seemingly miles away, the fresh-kill pile was almost overflowing. They could hear the chatter and murmur of warriors and apprentices going about their duties. But the two little toms cared little for any of this. In the scheme of things, of things that truly mattered to them, the majority of the clan was nothing. They were looking for one, one precious warrior, a true mother they had never known. And they’d had to be careful. They’d waited patiently, for a time when their father Heavystep was out of camp, and when Fawnblossom was distracted enough to be oblivious should they slip from the nursery.

And that moment was now. Sedgekit moved first, his heart pounding. Slightly after him, Owlkit scampered in his footsteps. His slightly smaller brother hissed in his ear with a trembling voice – “How are we supposed to find her?” Sedgekit snorted, rolling his eyes. He looked to his brother with affectionate condescension. “She’ll look like us, of course. She’s our mother!” It hadn’t occurred to the kittens that perhaps their mother didn’t want to be found. They had spent every day of their life watching queens tenderly care for their kittens. And in truth, Fawnblossom had cared for them as if they were her own. But they weren’t, and they knew it. They’d become entranced by this idea, obsessed with the mother they didn’t know. And when Heavystep avoided their questions, hushed them gently, they’d had no chance but to take matters into their own hands. They couldn’t imagine a scenario where their mother didn’t want them, where she’d chosen to be parted from them. Instead they’d dreamed up a meeting, a mother who loved them, who hummed them softly to sleep.

Sedgewhisker roughly pushed the memory away. He knew where this was going. He’d lived it. And looking back, he wished he’d been able to predict it, that he’d avoided escaping the Nursery that day with Owlkit. He wished he’d spared himself the realization. But none of that mattered, not now. Not nearly seventy moons later. Owltalon was gone, lost in the recesses of his own mind. Heavystep too, and their mother. Sedgewhisker was all that remained, Sedgewhisker and the life he had built for himself. He halted suddenly. He was approaching the camp. But pawsteps pounded towards him. A butterfly landed on his nose, and an instant later – a large ginger shape barreled into him.

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