Kin
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the fair queen[M:30]
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Post by Kin on Feb 17, 2013 1:12:37 GMT -5
[style=float:right; border-top-right-radius:50px; border-bottom-left-radius:50px; background-image: url(http://i907.photobucket.com/albums/ac277/Myrrdyn/dda89ec0-e73e-4319-98c0-ddc7d89bd5f9_zps8fb86315.jpg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-top:2px solid #9fbfcf; border-bottom:2px solid #9fbfcf; ] froststar [style=margin-top:-17px;] The day-to-day running of a Clan was simple, and after some of the more peaceful moons, Froststar had to wonder why, aside from naming a successor, a deputy was even needed. Then there would be a hectic moon where patrols had to be sent out continuously, and the camp was in utter frenzy over something, and she remembered. Clans were run by a pair of cats, one taking one set of responsibilities, and the other the rest.
Deputies organized patrols and made sure that the fresh-kill pile didn't run out. Leaders kept track of apprentices' progress, saw to the upkeep of the camp, and figured out which kits would do best with which mentors when their apprentice ceremonies came. And, of course, they were the true leadership of the Clan, and the source of highest punishment. And ceremonies. Memorizing every ceremony and the various ways they could or should be tweaked for each cat was one of the harder things Froststar had had to learn.
Place the organization of a war against ThunderClan and WindClan's united front with an uncaring RiverClan watching in front of the white she-cat, and she could maneuver a victory for her Clan. But set her to memorize the herb list the medicine cats used and she'd flounder. She'd always learned better by doing than by observing or memorizing. And so she sat in her den, tail flicking back and forth behind herself as she thought, scratching lines in the dirt before her as she pondered which of her warriors she would trust with Ternkit and Lightkit.
Neither of them would be given anything less than the best apprenticeship and mentors, and would have the best kithood Froststar could provide. At the time of their birth, that had meant giving them to Ashcloud to be fostered. She was still their mother, but stepping down from her position to raise her kits would have weakened the Clan and drawn suspicion to herself. Cats had already suspected that she had a lover outside the Clan, and most thought the lover was in WindClan, given her more thoughtful policies concerning the moor-bound Clan.
This way, they thought her more dedicated to ShadowClan than she was to having a family with the cat they all now thought to be her mate, Ospreyfoot. Froststar considered the tom a great friend, and would be in his debt until she ceded leadership of her Clan, whether through some unforseen circumstance that forced her out of the Clan or through death. With Lynxstar no longer reachable outside of Gatherings, Froststar had to be seen as a she-cat content with her life, happy with her mate, rather than in possession of an aching heart as she truly was.
Missing the tom she loved was like a constant wound, one that ached as fiercely as any of her most formidable wounds had. At times, she could trick herself into thinking that the pain was from a scar, any number of which still ached on cold nights. At other times, all Froststar could do was go hunting by herself, or find an open area in the pine forest where she could dream up enemies to narrow her entire world to for a while. She could only let life sweep her along and look forward to its end, as much as it saddened her to take such a view.
But the scarred she-cat was loyal to her core, and she had been loyal to ShadowClan for longer than she had been to Lynxstar. A part of her eagerly awaited an opportunity, an excuse to dart out and free herself from the fetters of leadership, to shrug off everything that made her ShadowClan, everything that made her a -star, and live on the moors with WindClan. Another, older part of her snarled at the idea of forsaking her Clan, of abandoning her son and daughter with a queen unrelated to them and a tom who only pretended to be their blood-father. Ospreyfoot may have filled the father's role in their life and looked upon them as his own kits, but in blood they belonged to herself and Lynxstar.
Standing and shaking her head, Froststar shouldered her way out of her den. Her pale blue eyes swept over the camp, taking in the sight of the heap of prey in the center with satisfaction. Warriors and apprentices padded around the camp, her own apprentice Cedarpaw carrying soiled moss away from the nursery, scraps of moss clinging to her fur. Brindlestorm and Ochre-eyes were laid out together beside the entrance to the elders' den, narrowed gazes both resting contemptuously on Oakpaw, who was glaring at Froststar as she helped the medicine cat extract bile from a mouse.
Froststar nodded in satisfaction and slipped into the nursery. She scanned the area for her kits, seeking out their light pelts. When they were born, she'd thanked StarClan that Lightkit was a miniature of herself, and that somewhere in her own or Lynxstar's kin were the genes needed for a son that looked a great deal like Ospreyfoot. The leader offered the two a fond smile when she found them, and nodded a greeting to Ashcloud.
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flyaway
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Post by flyaway on Feb 23, 2013 23:00:39 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] Ashcloud heaved an exasperated sigh, though one glance revealed she held no true frustration with the two small charges that tumbled around her paws. Ternkit was busily wandered all over her paws. He seemed quite content to simply roll around between her forepaws, rubbing his face in her chest. Ashcloud had noticed, in the three moons since his birth, that he was an unusually affectionate kitten. She chuckled to herself, leaning her head down and nuzzling the little patched kitten. He purred and pawed at her muzzle in reply. She nudged him gently, turning him on to his belly so she could groom him. He hadn’t been particularly easy to groom that morning. “Hold still now Ternkit, we want you to look nice and handsome for your mother, don’t we?” Ternkit obediently remained still, though only for the barest of moments. A second later he was pawing at a stray pebble, gleefully batting it between his paws. Ashcloud reached out, gently tugging him closer to her, though out of reach of his pebble. Immediately Ternkit squealed in distress, his face melting into a horrid sorrow and anxiety. He scrabbled, crying out – “My friend! My pebble friend will get lonely!”
Ashcloud immediately released him. He scrabbled desperately over, retrieving his pebbled. He batted it gently, returning obediently to Ashcloud. He settled down, now mesmerized with batting and gently nuzzling his new friend. Ashcloud made no comment, only continued grooming him soothingly. She groomed away the dust, the patches of fur that were determined to stick straight up. His dark patches shone, his white fur pristine – undeniably Froststar. She lifted her head, gazing down at the massive tom kitten in her paws. Worry and sadness clouded her features. From the moment he had opened his eyes, begun to toddle around the Nursery, she had seen that all wasn’t quite right. Little things engrossed him, the same little things that could plunge him into a consuming despair. He was simple, took multiple explanations of things to understand. Though Ashcloud hadn’t voiced her concerns to Froststar, or to their Medicine Cat, she suspected all wasn’t quite right in the little tom’s mind. Yet she also suspected that Froststar at least had an inkling of the same thing. But it didn’t seem to impair his movement or his ability to learn (despite it being slow). He would become a warrior, hopefully, in his own time.
Ternkit turned his head, massive eyes blinked up at Ashcloud as he inquired in a high voice. “Can Pebble meet Mama?” He looked fondly down at his pebble with a tinge of pride, then back up at Ashcloud. Despite having said nearly the same thing only a moment before – Ternkit blurted out insistently – “He’ll get lonely!” Ashcloud was quick to appease him, rumbling a purr and pulling him close to her chest. She swiped her tongue over his head, clutching him close. “Of course love, of course you can.” Immediately Ternkit relaxed again, resting his head on Ashcloud’s twisted paw. He either didn’t notice or didn’t realize he should care that it had been twisted and mutilated by an accident moons before. He rubbed his cheek against her, one paw protectively over his pebble. Just as a breeze brought Froststar’s scent wafting into the Nursery, Ternkit’s eyes began to sag. Ashcloud lowered her head, nudging him and whispering quietly. “Ternkit, your mother’s here to see you! Wake up.” His eyes blinked back open and he smiled happily. He looked up just as Froststar approached. He was on his paws in an instant, tottering over to Froststar. Though he didn’t know it, he had inherited his already-massive size from his father – Lynxstar. He carefully batted his pebble along with him, stopping proudly before his mother. He moved towards her, twining himself around her legs and purring. He rubbed his head against her, his eyes closed with satisfaction. He sat between her front paws, gesturing towards his pebble.
“Mama, look at my pebble friend.” He tilted his head almost entirely backwards to look up at her, pride and self-satisfaction glowing in his eyes. His mother had told him to be nice, told him he should make lots of friends. He wanted to show her that he was doing exactly as she’d asked. He wanted her to love him, to be proud of him. He looked to Ashcloud for reassurance. The cinder and white she-cat only nodded, looking to Froststar. She smiled at her leader, affection for the kittens clear in her eyes, as well as her enduring gratitude for the she-cat who had saved her from the Elder’s Den. “They’re growing well, Froststar. They will make fine warriors some day.”
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Kin
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the fair queen[M:30]
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Post by Kin on Mar 7, 2013 2:10:58 GMT -5
[style=float:right; border-top-right-radius:50px; border-bottom-left-radius:50px; background-image: url(http://i907.photobucket.com/albums/ac277/Myrrdyn/dda89ec0-e73e-4319-98c0-ddc7d89bd5f9_zps8fb86315.jpg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-top:2px solid #9fbfcf; border-bottom:2px solid #9fbfcf; ] froststar [style=margin-top:-17px;] A lump formed in Froststar's throat as her son twined around her, weaving his large body between her legs and under her chest. He was already so big for his age, inheriting his father's size. She was thankful that the toms of her family were large as well, that no cat would think it odd. Froststar herself was large for a she-cat, and broad as well. Her head dipped to nuzzle at Ternkit's head and the length of his spine as he showed her his affection and then sat between her forepaws. Warmth glowed in her chest at the way he craned his head up to look at her, to talk to her. There could be no doubt that her son loved her, that the terror that had plagued her while pregnant was futile where this wonderful young tom was concerned.
From the moment she'd found out she was pregnant, Froststar had been terrified that her kits would recoil from her, be disgusted or afraid of her, of the scarred and bare skin of her flanks and face, of her ruined ear. She had been almost paralyzed with fear during the kitting, half because she was giving birth for the first time, and it hurt, and she couldn't even have Lynxstar there to talk to her and coax her through it, and partially because she was utterly terrified that her kits would outright reject her at the feeling of her scars, that blind and helpless creatures without judgement would be too afraid of the strange, ruined canvas of their mother's body to love her.
“Mama, look at my pebble friend.”
She smiled, the expression gentle and fond. "Such a handsome pebble friend," the leader said lightly, licking Ternkit's nose playfully. When she had received her lives, a deceased queen had given her a life with the fierceness of a mother's love for her Clan, and she could compare what she felt around her son and daughter to nothing else. It was fierce and vicious, daring the world to even try to make her kits frown or feel a flicker of unhappiness. Froststar had never loved so fiercely and completely, not even Lynxstar. Certainly, he was the love of her life and no mistake, but that could not match what she felt for Ternkit and Lightkit. LionClan would fall beneath her claws and the forest would burn before a hair on their pelts would be harmed.
Sitting and curling her tail securely around Ternkit, Froststar made sure that her son was safely pressed against her and not squished or jostled in any way, the lay of her tail slightly possessive. While she was comfortable with Ternkit regarding Ashcloud as a mother, she would have him think of no other cat as a parent, save Ospreyfoot and Lynxstar, if she ever told him the truth. Her heart constricted at the same time that it warmed with the image of Lynxstar and Ternkit treating each other as father and son.
“They’re growing well, Froststar. They will make fine warriors some day.”
Froststar bowned her head, maternal smile shifting to a more formal one, retreating into the position of ShadowClan's leader as her attention was drawn from Ternkit. Only when focusing on her kits did the scarred she-cat allow herself to behave as Frostheart rather than Froststar, thinking lovingly of Lynxstar and daydreaming of a future where they could be together and her kits could know their true father. Donning the mantle of leadership pushed those dreams back to where they truly belonged, the back of her mind, where they could only torment her in her sleep. "You have done a wonderful job with them," she praised the queen, her tone pleased and just a touch affectionate.
Though she found herself slightly separated from her warriors by her rank, Froststar couldn't help but grow fond of Ashcloud. The she-cat was gentle and kind, and had been so very grateful to avoid the elders' den. Froststar trusted her to raise her kits right, even if she could never trust any ShadowClan warrior (save Ospreyfoot, who evidently excelled in both discovering and keeping secrets) with the truth of her kits' parentage. They were so like her and her kin that they could pass as hers and Ospreyfoot's, thank StarClan. Sometimes she liked to think that StarClan had allowed her kits to bear a stronger resemblance to her than Lynxstar, had shown their favor for her position in the genetics of her progeny.
Sometimes she thought that they only allowed it to torment her further, as a punishment she inflicted on herself, self-flagellation in a circle of thoughts about Lynxstar and family and being together and whole and happy in a future that would never happen, could never happen. She didn't trust her deputy to take over the Clan for moons to come, as the cat had some growing to do. In time, she could trust that the Clan would be in capable paws, but for now ShadowClan needed her more than she yearned to curl up and sleep beside her love at night, more than she yearned to hear his voice and feel his warmth beside her, more than she desired to introduce him to their kits, to remind him that she loved him and always would, more than she yearned to simply be Frostheart once more and more than she wished she had made up her mind to defect to WindClan before she had been made deputy, and then leader.
But by StarClan (or StarClan's collective balls, if one followed Brindlestorm's example), it did not matter what she wanted. Froststar was the leader of ShadowClan, and that meant that ShadowClan came before herself, came long before anything she ever did and would want, that she had to serve it to the best of her abilities, bleed and die repeatedly for the Clan if she had to. And she would. Froststar would walk through fire and let it burn her to the bone if it was what was best for her Clan and kits. Before assuming the mantle, she would have been horrified at the thought, would have insisted that she could never be so selfless. Oh, how she would have been wrong; Badgerstar had seen and known far better than her, had known that she would be a dedicated leader, a servant to her Clan's needs. Perhaps it had been her fight beside Ternpaw that had shown the old leader.
Perhaps it was by her apprentice's death that her own life had been deemed worthy enough to be multiplied by nine. Perhaps Ternpaw was looking proudly upon the world now, smiling at his young namesake and proud of his mentor. Froststar dipped her head again and nuzzled Ternkit's head to hide the misting of her eyes. Yes, it was a nice thought, Ternpaw's brown eyes twinking happily as he regarded Ternkit and poked fun at Froststar, pride on his face and warmth in his voice. She almost laughed, and she wanted to cry. StarClan, she didn't know what she'd do if she ever truly found out what Ternpaw thought. His opinion had come to matter so much to her during the course of his time with her, he'd come to mean so much to her. Her little brother, by heart if not by blood.
[/style] [style=width:50px; font-family:arial; font-size:20px; color:white; text-shadow:#666666 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center;]tag ! kits, ash, ossy [/style] [style=width:50px; font-family:arial; font-size:20px; color:white; text-shadow:#666666 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center;]notes this literally wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it. almost cried. [/style] [style=width:50px; font-family:arial; font-size:20px; color:white; text-shadow:#666666 1px 1px 1px; text-align: center;]words 1194 [/style][/style]
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flyaway
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Posts: 1,012
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Post by flyaway on Mar 8, 2013 12:04:11 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] Ternkit was never happier than when this mother visited. She was soft. And when he buried his face in her fur, she smelled distinctly sweet. He had truly never noticed the scars that criss-crossed her body. In all honesty, he didn’t realize what they were. Ashcloud had white patches on her chest. And he had patches on his head. Ashcloud said that’s just how they were born – that Ternkit looked like his mother and father. And he had yet to understand that Froststar hadn’t been born with her scars. In his mind, they were the same as his little patches. They were her pattern – what made her identifiable as his mother. He rubbed his head against her legs, purring like a little engine. He looked up, feeling her tongue rasp lightly over his nose. He giggled. He couldn’t of course reach her head. But he recognized and associated the light grooming with affection. But he could reach her legs. He rubbed his head against her legs again before promptly sticking out his tongue. He dragged it along her leg, over patches of fur and scar tissue. But he didn’t notice the ridges or raised skin. And he didn’t care. He looked up at his mother, nuzzling her. For this precious moment, she was all his.
“Such a handsome pebble friend.”
His eyes widened with pure joy. He felt her satisfaction, her pride. She’d told him to make friends, and he made friends – such excellent pebble friends. He squeaked happily, wriggling out of his mother’s grasp for a mere moment. He pounced forward, batting his pebble. But he didn’t wander away from his mother’s careful paws. He bent his head, gently plucking his friend up in his lips. And obediently a moment later he was padding back over his mother’s paws. He settled back in her grasp, dropping his pebble friend at his paws. He felt his mother’s tail curl around him, her gentle grasp as she held him close. He purred again, lowering himself to the ground. He curled up, his head on his paws and his face nestled in her long white tail. He closed his eyes, rumbling his purr. His jaws gaped in a yawn. He blinked open his eyes, tilting his head up at his mother hopefully. “Will you be here tonight? I made you a special spot.” He peeked his head over his mother’s paws, his eyes wandering over to Ashcloud’s nest where he and Lightkit slept. Right next to Ashcloud’s nest, Ternit had carefully stolen bits of moss and feathers from other nests. He had clumped them together. It was small, haphazard and unappealing. But he had worked to create it.
His little eyes were drooping. After all, he was just a little thing. And the energy and excitement of the short day had worn him out. He yawned again, a squeak of a sound. He nestled into Froststar’s fur, his purr still rumbling as he curled up at her feet. He dreamed, and hoped as he fell into sleep, that his mother would still be there when he woke up. He wanted her to always be there, to never leave him. Ashcloud smiled at the little tom, standing to her paws. She listed slightly, in order to avoid weight on her twisted paw. She looked to Froststar, a flash of worry in her eyes. She dipped her head gratefully in reply to Froststar’s words. She stood there, in silence, for a moment. She knew, inevitably, that Froststar would have to leave the little nursery. She had duties to attend to – a clan whose fate rested in her paws. But before she turned, before her scent became stale, Ashcloud had something she needed to say.
“Froststar..” Her voice trailed off slightly. She cleared her throat again, looking to Ternkit. His purring had stopped, his little sagging body obviously encased in the pleasantness of sleep. She lowered her voice, moving close in a confidential sort of manner. She had no desire for unwanted ears to pick up on her words. “I am…concerned for Ternkit.” She in no way intended to suggest some fault in her leader. Nor did she think her leader so dense or blinded by love to have missed Ternkit’s obvious intellectual struggling. But something needed to be said. The issue could not be ignored. She searched for words. But she couldn’t find the right ones. There were no words. She fell silent, staring at her paws, at little Ternkit curled in Froststar’s fur. Even in sleep, there was so much love and joy on his little face. He was perfectly content. In his mind, the world didn’t improve, there was nothing better than the presence of his mother or the feel of her gentle tongue on his nose.
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Kin
Administrator
the fair queen[M:30]
resident code monkey
Posts: 256
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Post by Kin on Apr 23, 2013 22:39:54 GMT -5
[style=float:right; border-top-right-radius:50px; border-bottom-left-radius:50px; background-image: url(http://i907.photobucket.com/albums/ac277/Myrrdyn/dda89ec0-e73e-4319-98c0-ddc7d89bd5f9_zps8fb86315.jpg); width: 100px; height: 100px; border-top:2px solid #9fbfcf; border-bottom:2px solid #9fbfcf; ] froststar [style=margin-top:-17px;] When Ternkit's tongue rasped over one of her scars, Froststar glanced down at him. He didn't seem to understand what scars were, what they meant. And the fact that he could so happily drag his tongue over an area savaged by another creature, an area that had bled and scabbed over and slowly healed, leaving her uglier in the eyes of grown felines, well, it made her tuck her head down and give his head a few extra licks, heart swelling with protective warmth. This innocence was something she'd give every one of her nine lives to protect. She already dreaded the day she or Ashcloud had to explain to him some of the world's more painful truths.
Yarrowkit had already figured some of them out for herself, and the solemn way she looked at her mother told Froststar that her daughter had already begun to grow up; her declaration that she would protect Ternkit showed that she had already noticed and come to understand her brother's mental state. Even now the young she-cat was curled up near the nursery's entrance, her green eyes warm and bright as she watched her mother and brother. Froststar smiled warmly at the she-kit before turning her attention back to her son as he wriggled out of her grasp.
He brought the pebble he'd dubbed his friend back with him, curling right back up in her grasp. Froststar automatically wrapped her tail securely around him and smiled fondly down at the black and white tom. More than ever, it was obvious that he'd require a patient, kind, and dedicated mentor. One of Mistfang and Greytail's kits would do wonderfully, if they could just open up to the rest of the Clan. Otherwise, she'd be combing through her Clanmates for the least aggressive and mean-hearted cat she could find, and heaping some rather potent threats on the unlucky cat.
"Will you be here tonight? I made you a special spot."
Her heart lurched at Ternkit's sleepy mew. She nuzzled his head and cast her gaze about the nursery, looking for the nest her son had created. It caught her eye easily enough, situated right next to Ashcloud. He had apparently scavenged enough scraps of moth and bits of feather to constitute a ramshackle nest. But the fact that he had created it on his own, and created it for her made up for any and every one of its flaws. Froststar found it hard to care that she could see bits of the nursery floor through the haphazard pile of scraps. With the love it was made from, she wouldn't deny Ternkit if he asked if she wanted that nest in her den to sleep on every night.
"How could I say no to such a lovely nest and handsome face?" Froststar chuckled and gave Ternkit's head a quick lick. Yarrowkit's head suddenly appeared at her shoulder, a slight smile on her face. She nuzzled her brother's cheek and then slipped away to tug hers and Ternkit's nests next to the one the young tom had created for the white leader. He yawned and laid his head down, breath slowing until it was the even rise-and-fall of sleep. Yarrowkit kept herself busy fussing over hers and Ternkit's nests, eyes flicking occasionally to Ashcloud.
"Froststar... I am…concerned for Ternkit."
Froststar's first instinct was to glance at Yarrowkit, who was studiously fluffing Ternkit's nest. She sighed and glanced at Ashcloud before looking down at her son. "As am I. I've already started trying to figure out who would do well as his mentor." Flicking her eyes up, the leader regarded Ashcloud with something approaching hope and confidence. "He'll be a great warrior, at his own pace." A soft smile crept onto her muzzle, and she glanced back down at Ternkit. "The only thing that would stop him is how cats think of him. So long as we believe in him, he can do it."
From her nest, Yarrowkit interjected sleepily, "I'll beat up any apprentice that makes fun of him once we're -paws." She laid with her head on her paws, green eyes half-lidded and watching the two she-cats thoughtfully. Her tail was curled over herself, and she looked so like Swanfeather that Froststar felt like laughing for a moment.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary, love," she assured her daughter.
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flyaway
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Posts: 1,012
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Post by flyaway on Apr 27, 2013 0:17:32 GMT -5
[style=text-align:justify; margin-top:-8px; width: 250px; height: 337px; overflow:auto; float:left; margin-left:8px;][style=margin-top:-15px; padding-right:5px;] Ternkit was falling deeper into sleep by the second. His eyes were heavy. He was lulled by his mother’s quiet voice, her scent wrapped around him, and the softness of her fur. He could lose himself in her, float away and never wake up. Perhaps he would do just that. Then he wouldn’t have to rise in the morning, he wouldn’t have to see her walk away. The other mothers stayed, forever. Day and night, every morning they were present as the other kittens rose. And Ternkit, even at his tender age, realized that when he awoke – it would likely be to his mother’s stale scent, and Ashcloud’s waiting caresses. He didn’t understand why Froststar wasn’t there. Ashcloud had attempted to explain the hierarchy, the structure, of the clan. But Ternkit hadn’t been able to understand. To his little mind, titles didn’t matter. He had only just begun to grasp the idea of an apprenticeship (despite being quite near his sixth moon). But tonight he would cling to Froststar, he would not leave her grasp. He would wake to see her smile down at him, to purr her rasping broken perfect purr. And she would tell him she loved him, that he needed no friends but her.
He blinked sleepily, conscious enough to hear his mother’s reply. He snuggled in deeper, his ears against his head. “Don’t leave Mother, not ever. Promise?” He yawned, a squeak of a sound. He was no longer aware of the conversation of the adults. Even this very weak mental strain had exhausted him. The anxiety over his mother’s presence, his eagerness to please her, it had mentally taxed him. The soft murmur of Froststar’s voice lulled him towards sleep. It was a song, a hum in his ears made of a beautiful perfect wordless tune. Ashcloud raised her gaze from the patched little tom to his mother, her concern in her eyes. Her ears flicked. Froststar’s words were key – at his own pace. She’d already heard Yarrowkit speak eagerly of her future as an apprentice, then as a warrior. She grasped the concept, looked forward to her ceremony, to the moment her training would begin. Yet for Ternkit, the mere idea of changing his name was stressful. He couldn’t understand a necessity for change in his stable lifestyle. Ashcloud shook her head, lowering her voice. “I’ve tried to explain to him, Froststar. But you should see how it perturbs him. His sixth moon approaches too quickly.” She paused, biting her tongue.
In truth, she had a mentor in mind for little Ternkit. Ashcloud looked at the tom like a son, her own flesh and blood. She guarded him fiercely. Yet there was a single warrior, one she felt she could trust. Yet it was not her place. She was no leader, no deputy. She wasn’t even a warrior any longer. Her place was to obey, to serve her clan in the only way she could. She swallowed, her voice now low and submissive. “I would hazard, Froststar, to suggest Pinestep as a mentor.” She didn’t wish to discuss her personal relationship with the deputy. It was likely entirely uninteresting to her leader, and inappropriate. Plus, she wasn’t entirely sure what their relationship was. Ternkit stirred, calling out suddenly fearfully in his sleep, “Pebble friend!” His distress was palpable in his high squeak. Ashcloud moved automatically, using her tail tip to swish the little stone to where it nudged Ternkit’s paws. He quieted immediately, falling back into his restful sleep. It was endearing, so impossible not to love with a fierce sense of protection. Yet it saddened her immensely as well. For the day would come when Ternkit would realize what he was, what weakness he had been borne to bear.
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