Hello Feline Friends

The small kit snickered softly to herself, her head bobbing in a strange way yet again as she laughed softly at the picture of the bigger, older cat getting told off for telling bad stories. She set her gaze on Hazelpaw again after a moment, mewling softly “Can I see your momma?”

Hazelpaw smiled brightly at the kit. “His stories are pretty bad, aren’t they? Mama never let him do the bedtime story after the first time.”

“I don’t like talking to him.” She explained simply, her momentarily diverted to a bit of fluff floating on the still air of the medicine den. “He acts like it’s a chore.” She stuck her tongue out a little to symbolize her feelings before batting down the flying thing and looking over at Hazelpaw. “Your stories are better.”

(Yessss. My birthday present is that laptop I asked for. If it had been any other birthday, I wouldn’t have got it, but since it’s my sixteenth...)

Hazelpaw blinked in surprise but smiled at the kit.

The She-kit seemed to take a while to think of what she would say next. After a stretch of silence, she replied “I’m glad your daddy brings you here.”

Hazelpaw nodded. “The cat who keeps bringing me here is my Papa. And my Mama’s really kind, most of the time, but if you make her mad she gets really scary.”

The small kit flicked her ears, as if surprised. She hadn’t thought about other cat’s moms and dads. “What’s she like?” Asked the She-kit. “Does that mean you have a Daddy too?”

Hazelpaw frowned slightly. “Well, I’m sure my Mama wouldn’t mind being your Mama. She loves kits.”

The kit shook her head quickly. As far as she remembered, she had woken up one night in great pain, been rescued by a scary looking tom, and then brought here. She had no memory of her parents.

Hazelpaw stopped mid-sentence, mouth hanging open as she blinked rapidly at the kit for several moments before she closed it. “You don’t have a Mama?”

“I wish I had a Momma.”

Finally, the young female had spoken, glancing up at Hazelpaw earnestly as it seemed she did not understand how much it would mean to the clan cats that she had finally acknowledged them.

Hazelpaw continued babbling along. “And I was playing with Beechkit yesterday. Besides you, he’s the only kit in the camp so he gets very lonely. But I turned around for a second and when I looked back, Beechkit was already at the camp entrance in an attempt to leave the camp and explore the forest. His mom took him back to the nursery after that.”

A smirk crossed the She-cat’s face as she listened to Hazelpaw describe the incident with Snowpaw, and yet she still didn’t talk. She was now enraptured with the apprentice’s stories, however, and came a little closer to listen, ears perked and eyes bright and attentive.

“And then,” Hazelpaw was saying, “Snowpaw tripped over a tree roof and fell face-first into some mud. I know I shouldn’t have, but I laughed. I couldn’t help it, though. It was so funny! And she gossips about my mom all the time.” She looked briefly petulant at the mention of Snowpaw’s gossiping before continuing.

(At this point she’s about four and a half moons.)

As Hazelpaw spoke, the small she-kit lifted her head, which seemed to bob around as if she barely had the strength to keep it up. All the same, her ears were perked, and instead of hiding behind her paws she was actually listening to what Hazelpaw was saying.

Hazelpaw shrugged and decided to pretend nothing had happened, instead rambling on about what had happened since she’d last spoken to the she-kit two days before, as she’d gotten into the habit of doing. 

(How old is the kit?)

The smaller she-cat kept her paw lifted, one wary eye on Hazelpaw, seeming to expect her to say more.

Hazelpaw blinked back at her in some surprise.

The She-kit’s ear flicked as Hazelpaw spoke, and she carefully peeked out from under her forepaw at the other female. Sure, the apprentice had tried speaking to the stranger at least once before, but this was the first time her existence had been acknowledged by the silent female in the nest across from her.

Hazelpaw sighed and lay down on her belly, resting her head on her paws and blinking at the kit. “I’m sorry for this. I know you don’t want to talk, but my father’s stubborn and he’s the leader so I can’t exactly disobey him.”

Treewhisker stepped out of the den, seeking out his mate and maybe making the strange kit a little more comfortable.

It was clear the kit wouldn’t be initiating the conversation, keeping her face hidden behind her forepaws and her tail, curled in a tight ball in her nest.

Hazelpaw plopped herself on the ground in front of the kit, glancing at her father.

When they arrived at the medicine den, the kit was the only cat present, the medicine cat having been called out earlier to help with someone who was injured on a patrol. She cast a quick glance at them before burying her face back in her forepaws.

Hazelpaw trailed after her father sulkily.

Treewhisker gave his daughter a thankful smile and, while nobody was looking, a quick lick to the cheek, with nobody seeing it so that they couldn’t tease her about it later. The Tom stood and silently lead the way to the medicine den, his tail lashing.