Endless Wandering

[Moonstorm]

Sunlight dripped through the shimmering vales of mid-morning mist, bathing Starkit in a haze of glimmering vapor. Shafts of sunlight streaked through the rain-heavy clouds, lighting the mist a strange golden color. Starkit's pelt was vibrant with muted colors, the hues swirling through her fur in the dance of the sun.

A few hundred pawsteps away, a plump thrush sang its song of joy to the sky. Her audits pricked at the sudden noise, waving back and forth in apprehension. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of the sweet juices trickling from her mouth, the sudden rush of adrenaline as the energy of the prey surged in her bones.

Starkit shook her head fervently, angry with herself. The Clan always came first, no matter how hungry she herself was. And technically, she wasn't supposed to even be out here, seeing that she was still a kit. All kits knew from the time they were small never to go out into the forest alone until they were big, strong apprentices. But, then again, Starkit was so close to apprenticeship and as other warriors had said, she was strong enough to start helping out.

Her crystal blue oculars scanned the skies for the thrush, ears assisting in the hunt. He sat high in the Great Sycamore, warbling his thanks for the beautiful day Mother Nature had granted them. The blue ice frozen so compactly in the kit's eyes melted, shimmering blue puddles soft with compassion. Why, the thrush was only thanking his ancestors for the day, just as all cats thanked StarClan. Let him sing his beautiful song.

A sudden rumbling in her belly reminded her that, although she was letting the thrush go, the Clan still needed food. Starkit easily pounced on a unlucky scrap of a mouse that had just skittered across her path. She sliced its soul with one claw, trying to make its death as merciful as possible.

She cached the mouse about fifty pawsteps southeast of the Great Sycamore, making sure to leave her scent scattered about the area in case other cats were meandering about. The mouse was hers and she intended for it to stay that way.

Starkit changed her course to due north, drinking in the lust life of the forest. Only a half of a moon and she would be roaming these woods with a mentor by her side. No more fretting queens, no more tumbling with claws sheathed, no more boredom. She would be free.

Her ever-attentive audits pricked as a rustling came from a nearby bush. She tasted the wind, searching for the sound's creator. Her fur bristled in alarm. Another cat!

Moons of practice had readied Starkit for this. Her muscles responded automatically, dropping the she-kit into a crouch. Pawsteps silent but even, she crept around the bush, caution and doubt ringing alarm bells in her mind. No matter who she found, friend or foe, she knew that this marked her aptitude for the skills needed in apprenticeship. That finally, she was on the path to becoming a true warrior.

[Shadepelt]

The sun had warmed the dew-drenched earth, causing clouds of billowing mist to raise from the ground under-paw. The almost golden water vapour moistened the air, making it feel fresh, a truly beautiful day. Silent as the day was, one would have thought they were deaf, that is until they heard the cheery song of the thrush. The light, happy song rang out through the otherwise sound lacking forest, carrying the mood of pure exuberant delight. A figure stalked through the dense undergrowth, large muscles rippling under a thick pelt with the colouring of fire, with the exception of jet-black large paws. Scenting of a tom, the feline wandered slowly through the forest, all senses alert, yet at peace on this day that was blessed by StarClan. Claws sheathed, the ThunderClan warrior wasn't hunting, no, he was simply on a morning's walk, before the day began.
A sudden stop was brought to his actions as a familier scent wafted by his pink nostrils, and he pricked his ears and peered through the lush bushes that hid him from the unknown compainion. The outline was hard to make out, for it was broken up by the golden-tinged mist surrounding it's small figure. Further scenting revealed a kit-like smell, so the large tom stepped out into the open, ready for anything. The rustle of the leaves against his pelt seemed to have alerted the small thing, and the warrior softened his gaze as he emerged from his leafy camoflage. A questioning yet understanding expresion weasled it's way into his oculars, and he meowed his greetings to his clan-mate.
"Hello Starkit! I guess I'm supposed to ask what you're doing out here."
He paused and tilted his head, then continued on with a different subject.
"You're almost an apprentice arn't you? Your mentor will be lucky, you're a very talented hunter." His long, ginger whip-like tail gestured toward the dead mouse, which was laying near the Great Sycamore.
Amber orbs glowed with admiration toward the she-kit, Slagar had always had a fondness for her.
Maybe this time, maybe you'll finally get an apprentice.
At the thought of apprenticeship, tears almost sprang to the tom's eyes. When he had been a younger warrior, his apprentice had been carried off by a badger, and Slagar hadn't been able to save her.
The illusion faded, and the ThunderClan cat smiled warmly at Starkit, I wouldn't let that happen to any other cat.
The oath burned hot in his blood, and he lowered his powerful haunches to the ground into a sitting position.
"So, how's life been?"

[Moonstorm]

((Starkit’s a she. ^^))

A flash of golden fire exploded through the clouds of white, illuminating the translucence of the vapor. A jolt of fear dazzled her for the briefest moment, but she quickly regained composure. The approaching feline, scenting of a tom, was finally close enough that Starkit could catch his Clan scent. The familiar comfort of ThunderClan enveloped her mind as it danced about her nostrils, teasing her out of her crouch. ThunderClan scent meant that this cat surely wasn’t going to harm her. Relief rippled through her as she waited for him to reach her. Though she was no longer a young kit, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against an enemy warrior.

Her Clanmate’s silhouette, so delicately outlined in the haze, was that of a warrior. A slightly golden hue resonated in an aura about the large tom. Squinting into the leafy undergrowth with her sharp dark-sapphire gaze, she could almost make out a glint in the tom’s amber orbs, one saturated with emotion.

Slagar emerged from the leaves, his golden pelt aflame as the mid-morning sun shot streaks of light through the heavy clouds above. Many ThunderClan cats admired the lithe warrior for his strength, skill, and compassion. However, admiration was always mixed with scorn. All cats knew about how Slagar’s previous apprentice, Autumnpaw, had been carried off by a badger. And according to the elders that Starkit visited on particularly boring days, his first mentor, Alkariss, had been killed by a badger also. These particular elders had apparently been very fond of Autumnpaw and were somehow blaming Slagar for her death. A blazing bolt of spite shot through the electric blue of the kit’s eyes at this thought. Slagar hadn’t done anything wrong! It wasn’t like he had just let a badger carry off his apprentice; he had done all he could. It wasn’t his fault that their leader hadn’t chosen him to come to the Gathering. He had defended everything the best he could.

When he was standing on sturdy paws in front of her, he meowed a hello as well as the customary question for kits that were found where they weren’t supposed to be. What are you doing here? From the reluctant tone of the question, Starkit could tell the question was just a formality; he didn’t really expect an answer. He paused for a fraction of a second to see if she would answer, and when she didn’t, he titled his head and changed the subject.

You’re almost an apprentice, aren’t you? Your mentor will be lucky; you’re a very talented hunter. His ginger tail gestured towards the dead mouse she had just cached. Her paws tingled at the compliment. Not many warriors cared to pay attention to the skills of kits, unless it was a newborn rolling over for the first time. Though Starkit was very stubborn and almost always inclined to speak her mind, she held her tongue and dipped her head to the warrior before her.

“Only a half a moon left. Believe me, I’m counting the days.” Almost as an afterthought, she added her thanks.

“That’s a real compliment coming from you, Slagar. Other warriors sometimes have thistledown for brains. They all believe that unless you’re a warrior, you’re to be ignored. They all think that kits are helpless little creatures that need protection, that there’s no such thing as a clever kit.” Realizing that the tone of her meows was slowly starting to rise as her temper flared, she cut herself off. She allowed herself to look humbled, but she wouldn’t take back a word of what she had said. She was very stubborn, quite opinionated, and very proud. And she knew it.

Her dark ice gaze locked with his amber one, her oculars portraying determination as well as a bit of defiance. She had always liked the ginger warrior and could not help but purr as a look of fondness flashed through his eyes. She felt she could really talk to Slagar; she could be stubborn without being punished.

Her blood boiled at the thought of the other warriors and queens who thought she couldn’t do anything for herself, but she finally realized that ranting to Slagar wasn’t going to help anything. After all, he wasn’t the one with the problem. She sighed lightly, the slight noise mingling with the sudden breeze that chilled her fur as well as her temper.

When she looked back at the sun-dappled warrior, he was gazing at her warmly. He had lowered himself into a sitting position and Starkit immediately did the same.

So, how’s life been?

There were many answers to that question, but she decided to go with the most truthful. She administered a few quick licks to her chest fur and locked her steady gaze with his.

“About as dead as that mouse,” she said with a snort of disdain, gesturing to the mouse she had cached. “Being a kit isn’t as great as it’s supposed to be. The elders are always saying that kithood is wasted on the kits, but I believe if they remembered what it was like, they would change their minds.” She closed her eyes briefly as she realized she was ranting again. Well, she thought, she couldn’t really blame herself. All of her friends were apprentices now, so she had no one to talk to. And Slagar was a good listener. He actually listened and regarded what she said the same way he would a warrior.

Remembering her manners, she shot the question back at him.

“And you? Is life treating you well?”

[Shadepelt]

[[Gah, oops! I'm hopeless with genders, sorry about that! I changed all that in my post ]]

A half-moon!
A warm grin spread widely over his strongly chisled head, amber eyes alight with exuberant delight. Tingling down his spine, a tickling, warm, good feeling crawled over him, making his flame-like fur stand on end with joy. That wasn't long to wait, and this time, he might even possibly have a chance at having another apprentice, another chance to prove himself. But that wasn't the point, proving himself to his clanmates was nothing compared to training a young cat to protect the clan, and the cats residing within it. Compassion ran thickly in his blood, and he had to take a moment to shake it off and listen to Starkit.

Emotion changed from joy to scorn and dissapointment, and he shook his massive head as he listened to the she-kit talk of how kits were treated like carrion from ShadowClan.
"All warriors were kits once; even the smallest kit can rise up to be the strongest warrior! Kits are the beginning of new life, and without that, the Clans would come to an end."
The statement had started with an irritated growl, ended with a soft whisper, quite a large decrescendo for this tom.

For quite awhile Slagar listened to Starkit, her venting, her feelings, and he could relate to all of them. He had been a kit once too, confined to the nursery, with far too much free-time for his own good.
After she had finished, he began to return a reply to her question,
"I've been very well, with my duties and all that. Awhile ago I ran off to find Autumnpaw, which was hopeless from the start. I didn't really think about it, one morning I just left. I was gone for five dawns, and returned empty-pawed."
The muscular tom could feel the hot, salty tears pricking in his eyes, he never really talked about that incident before. As the hot drops of salty water dripped down his jawbones, he couldn't care less of what this did to her reputation, even thought he maybe should've.
I've lost her.

[Moonstorm]

(('Tis ok. No problem. ;D))

All warriors were kits once; even the smallest kit can rise up to be the strongest warrior…

Calescent blood rushed through Starkit’s veins, thundering in her ears. The blue ice of her piercing gaze intensified to fire, the flames leaping angrily about her irises. Easy for him to say! He was a big strong warrior!

Over and over again Starkit had been told to hold her tongue; that keeping her stubborn, audacious thoughts to herself and agreeing with your seniors was the smartest thing to do. Fury shot through her eyes at this. No cat could tell her what to do. She would do what she wanted and say what she felt, and that was that.

“That’s all well and good if you’re two moons old! All warriors look at me the same, like I can’t do anything for myself. The first time I got to hunt I couldn’t go far at all, for fear I couldn’t handle myself. I don’t need help; I’m perfectly fine on my own!”

Anger smoldered in her gaze as she gazed up at the larger warrior. Many had compared her to a younger Squirrelflight, which could be a good or bad thing. Whatever they said didn’t matter. She would fulfill her own destiny, regardless of whether they thought she could or not.

Though Slagar looked taken aback as well as disappointed at her fiery temper, he still listened to her. That conjured within her respect for the flaming warrior. She would bet her apprenticeship that if she had talked to practically any other warrior that way, she would have been chastised, punished, or lectured.

The mood of the forest intensified as, within the silence of the veiled morning mist, Slagar began to talk about Autumnpaw. Her anger shattered as he began to relate his journey of searching for her as well as the ill-fated outcome. Emotions burned white-hot in his eyes as he struggled with the words, fighting hard to keep back the burning pain.

Starkit padded over to his large form, eyes suddenly soft. She hadn’t known Autumnpaw, but she must have meant a great deal to him. Pressing her soft calico pelt against his fiery one, she echoed her earlier thoughts.

“It wasn’t your fault and any cat who says so is mouse-brained. What else could you have done? Badgers are dangerous, you defended everything the best you could. She’s gone now, but she’ll live on forever in your heart.”

Starkit gave him a quick lick, still pressed against the towering flames of his pelt. Drops of saltwater splashed from his eyes to the dew-covered ground, plinking softly as they landed. His claws dug into the Earth as memories overcame him, thrumming painfully through his soul. Starkit sat with him as these memories flooded him, knowing for once the proper time to hold her tongue.

[Shadepelt]

The angry, flashing fires radiating from the she-kit's gaze made the large tom frown, had he said something wrong? Not being one to talk alot, he didn't see what he had said wrong, so he cautiously continued after her ourburst of tightly contained rage.
"I can imagine how you feel, and yes, sometimes it dosn't feel fair. No cat should judge you for your age or size! But, there have been incidents in the past where kits, and even apprentices have gone missing when left on their own, taken by the cruel claws of fate. I'm not saying that you can't handle yourself, because I'm sure you can, but the warriors and queens, well, some of them might be scared. They don't want to lose you!"

Once again, hot rivers of emotion filled his eyes, as once again his former apprentice entered his mind.
"Even though Autumnpaw was in the camp with me, she still got taken away. Cats are probably worried that the same might happen, but with no-cat there to protect you."

Slagar's tears ran freely, and his vision was so blurred, that he barely saw Starkit's eyes die down, and become soft and understanding. He nodded his large head as she told him it wasn't his fault, and he began to feel slightly better, slightly. As her small calico body pressed up against his, he was glad for the company. He wrapped his long tail around the kit, as if to keep her from running away, but he knew she wouldn't. Right now, the last thing he would be able to bare, would be losing another cat.

[Moonstorm]

When a slight frown spread across the flaming tom’s features, Starkit was taken aback. Unlike the scornful, sardonic frowns of many other warriors, his was one of genuine confusion. He seemed more hurt that anything else, which caused guilt to stir in her soul. She was so used to other cat’s telling her what to do and how to think that she really had not considered the fact that perhaps he was only trying to give her a bit of advice.

Then again, maybe he had been lecturing her and he just didn’t know of Starkit’s notorious temper. A flash of her previous anger echoed in her eyes, but she brushed in irritably away. He began again to speak, and, as his words flowed through her mind, it dawned on her that perhaps he was right. Though her stubborn pride would never let her admit it, it made some sense. Some.

Still, she was almost an apprentice and should be treated that way. They may be worried about her, but they shouldn’t be. She could defend herself against any danger! Then, guiltily, her thoughts trailed back to the stifling panic that had gripped her when she had thought Slagar was an enemy warrior. Shoving it away, she remained determined and confident.

Looking back up at the large warrior, she saw that his eyes were flooded with lucid pain. He compared, rather shakily, her predicament to Autumnpaw’s fate. At this, an icy shiver skittered down her spine. What if one day she was out hunting and something happened to her? She would never see her Clan again…Flamingstar, Flintpelt, Firen…her friends, now Fernpaw and Fawnpaw…even Slagar. For the briefest moment, she experienced the heart-stopping fear that queens and warriors felt at the thought of losing their kits.

Streams of tears, each drop a chrysalis of sorrow, poured down the lithe warrior’s face unbidden as Starkit’s eyes softened. After sitting for a while pressed against him, his tail curled around her as if to keep her from running away. She twined her tail in his, eyes glowing with warmth and compassion. For at least a moment, the icy kit with the hot temper had melted, leaving behind a different Starkit, a Starkit who could become a truly great warrior someday. Locking her sapphire gaze with his liquid amber one, she whispered the words of a warrior.

“You have lost a great many cats in your life, Slagar. But I will be there for you. If you ever need a paw, or…or even just some company, I will be there. Always. I promise.” Her eyes burned with the power of her words and the intensity of the promise.

I will never leave.

[Shadepelt]

[[Wow, that was deep. Nice post!]]

As the flame-pelted warrior stared off into the forest, a vacant expression rooted deep into his glowing amber orbs, he could feel the changing emotions of the she-kit beside him. The prickles of anger running through her calico fur, and the melting of the fires of anger in the lowering of her hackles.

All the spasms of emotion had triggered two flash-backs, each several moons apart.

It was a bright, warm sunny day; only a few scattered clouds scudding the azure blue sky. Today was the day Slagar's life would change forever. He had just left the den for a walk around the camp, when the leader had called a gathering of ThunderClan. His mother had herded him over to sit with her, and he listened carefully.
When Flamingstar had asked him to come up to the Highrock, and had announced his apprenticehood, he had been genuinely surprised. His mentor, Alkariss, came up with a warmth in her eyes, and had quietly murmured how to go through with the ceremony. After it had finished, all the cats had yowled out;
Slagar! Slagar!

In a swift zip of time, his mind flew him into the more recent past, to when he had become a warrior.

Dark storm clouds covered the sky like a thick grey pelt, rain pelting down with no mercy for the shivering cats on the ground. The leader of ThunderClan had called up an older apprentice, Slagar. Slowly he had padded up to the Highrock, head down in sorrow. Alkariss should have been there. His new mentor, Zio, spat at him as he passed, he had never been fond of the flame-pelted tom. As Flamingstar crowned him a warrior, he pricked his ears, awaiting the sound of his name yowled by his clanmates.
All that met his ears, was silence.

All at once the warrior broke from the illusion, and was once again in the forest, with a small kit beside him. As her tail curled around his, a small smile spread onto his face. He was no longer alone.

After Starkit had told him how she would always be there for him, his eyes cleared, and he stared at her with thick warmth and thankfulness swimming in his gaze.
"Starkit, Thank you."
He drew a pink, rasping tongue over the top of her head, then stared out into the forest once more.

[Moonstorm]

[Thankies! Yours was simplistically beautiful; some of your phrases carried a lot of emotional power. ^^P]

Starkit stayed close to the warrior, unwilling to let him suffer alone. A slight purr vibrated deep within her throat, comfort and warmth radiating from her heart. Lifting her head slightly, she gazed up at the lithe warrior. Vacant eyes as frigid as ice were clouded over with the mists of the past; the memories that she knew so tortured him.

Starkit, seeing the emotion in his amber oculars, was transported to another time, a time when she had first seen the look of loss and vacancy resonate within him.

The bright sun spilled from the sky, its scintillating rays penetrating the she-kits paper-thin eyelids. With a moan, they flew open, the blurry world around her spinning like a never-ending vortex. Merriheart, her mother, stood before her, warm blue eyes gazing lovingly at her daughter.

“Good morning, my Starkit. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes!” Starkit squealed as energy suddenly flooded through her. “Can I play now?”

Merriheart chuckled. “Who do you want to play with Starkit? Fernkit and Fawnkit?”

Starkit thought as hard as it was possible for a moon old kit to think. Fernkit and Fawnkit were a half-moon older than she was but it did not stop them from being friends. After all, the three of them would be denmates when they were all apprentices. She did, however, see them nearly every day. Perhaps it was time for a little diversity.

“I want to play with a WARRIOR!” Starkit exclaimed, bouncing up and down excitedly. Her crystal blue gaze traveled to the entrance of the den, scanning the bit of landscape for a possible playmate.

Warriors milled about the camp like a swarm of wasps, each contributing to the slight vibration that occurred when many cats meowed at once. Groups of cats pawed in different directions, everycat off to do their various tasks. Frustrated, Starkit intensified her search. How could she play with a warrior if they were all going away?

A flash of brilliant orange entered her gaze, the lithe shape pawing slowly through the ferns. Squinting, Starkit realized that it was a warrior, a warrior tom! Best of all, there was no cat with him! Elation surged through her blood at the thought of playing with a real warrior, causing her to completely ignore the fact that his eyes were riveted to the ground and that crystalline drops of sorrow were slowly slipping through his irises.

“Mama!” Starkit cried, running to her mother’s side. “Mama, can I play with him? That golden warrior in the ferns? Oh can I, Mama? Can I?”

Merriheart peered out of the den, squinting in the bright light. When she spotted the ginger tom, her eyes followed him for a few moments. Moons later, Starkit would swear a tear or two grew in her mother’s eyes, but she didn’t really watch her as she waited with baited breath for an answer. Merriheart, eyes suddenly very serious, turned back to her kit.

“Starkit, do you know who that cat is?”

Starkit shook her head, a puzzled light echoing in her eyes. After some thought, she said,

“The first time I ever went out of the nursery, I think…I think I saw him…but…but he was with an apprentice then.” She turned to her mother, still puzzled. “Now he walks alone.”

Merriheart sighed and curled her tail around her small daughter. It wasn’t easy to tell the horrible facts of life to her innocent kit.

“Starkit…that orange tom’s name is Slagar. Before you were born, Slagar was given one of the most promising apprentices by Flamingstar. Her name was Autumnpaw. Many cats loved the little apprentice and she had showed much promise as a kit. Slagar began to transform her into a great warrior but…” She paused, unsure how to go on.

“Tell me,” Starkit said, paying close attention, “What happened to Autumnpaw?”

Merriheart hesitated, but seeing the kit’s intense attention, tentatively continued her tale.

“On the night of a Gathering, Slagar was left to defend the camp while others were away. While they were gone, a badger attacked.”

Starkit’s eyes were huge.

“This was just after you were born, so you wouldn’t remember, but Slagar came to defend the nursery. In doing so, he left Autumnpaw. When he came back, she was gone.”

Silence.

“Mama…the badger didn’t KILL Autumnpaw, did it?”

Starkit was trembled, her dark sapphire eyes full with fear. Merriheart’s matching orbs throbbed with sadness, but she knew Starkit had to hear the story through.

“No one has seen Autumnpaw since. Slagar led many search patrols but all they found was…was a pool of dried blood. Everyone knew who’s it was.”

Shock registered in Starkit’s eyes and her fur was standing on end. She couldn’t say a word.

“After it was widely recognized as a hopeless case, cats began to stay away from Slagar. Even before the tragedy of Autumnpaw, Slagar had been a bit of a loner. Something happened in his apprenticeship that seemed to seal his fate, though I’m not quite sure what it was. Now, after, cats despise him. They think he’s irresponsible, that it was his fault. They think he’s a bad cat.”

Starkit looked at her mother for a long time, then asked,

“Mama, do you think he’s a bad cat?”

Merriheart sighed, looking older than her moons. After a long silence, she gave her answer.

“I do not believe that Slagar is a bad cat. I don’t think he ever has been.”

Sadness welled deep within the depths of her mind, poisoning the slight happiness that had soared through her heart at the memory. Merriheart had died shortly after, succumbing to a sickness that had caught many cats in its icy grasp. With a jolt of pain, Starkit remembered that it was her fault her mother hadn’t had the strength to fight it. If she hadn’t been born, Merriheart would have been strong.

Wisdom branched out through the veins of her irises as she held her head a tad higher. Though her mother was gone, she wouldn’t forget what she had been told. The lessons Starkit had learned from her mother in the mere moon of their relationship would stay with her the rest of her life. She was determined that she would not let Slagar face the harshness of the world alone.

His rough tongue lapsed against her head, as though he was withdrawing from her the strength that would carry him through the rest of the day. Starkit gave him a quick lick in return, conveying all her compassion and reassurance in the single gesture of kindness. She looked skywards until she met his amber orbs. He had to understand that he was not alone in the world.

“That’s one thing we have in common, you know,” she said, her voice barely rising above the slight breeze, “We both know what it feels like to lose a cat. We both know what it feels like for it to be our fault.” She pressed closer against him, basking in the warmth of his flaming pelt. “Though it will always be in our hearts, we must move on. Autumnpaw would want it. We mustn’t let the past interfere with life.”

Silence resonated about the clearing as they stood together, unlocking their hearts and overcoming the pain, just as the sun overcame the boundaries of the horizon.

[Shadepelt]

[[Beautiful post! Awsome length! Here goes mine...]]

The small purr that rumbled from little Starkit comforted the huge warrior emencely, he now had a friend in the world, and she seemed to hold the wisdom and maturity of a cat far older then she. As the orange tom stared into the forest, from the corner of his eye he saw two dar pools of a deep blue gazing at him, then a moment later seemed to be off somewhere else, another place or time perhaps. Slagar let the young female beside him dwell in her thoughts, and he took in the scene around him.
They seemed to be in one of the more heavily forested areas of ThunderClan's territory, for the space around them was thick with trees. A tall and mighty oak stood behind the tom, it's masive trunk dwarfing the cat, and farther up it branched out at the top; forming many boughs of full, spectacular limbs. From there, twigs seemed to spring from the bark, bringing with them each several light, membrane-like leaves. All those leaves together created a wonderful crown that topped the oak, the light greens contrasting very well with the rich, brown bark. Several birches were scattered among the dogwood and undergrowth, white, paper-like bark wrapping delicatly around the tender heart-wood.
From all these leaves and trees, a canopy had formed overtop the forest; letting the rays of sunshine create a dappled pattern across the forest floor. This design fell upon the flame-coloured warrior, making him look quite like a small leopard.
As the dappled light touched his fur, the trembling leaves cast what looked like dark ginger spots across his otherwise sun-touched golden pelt. The sun played with the colour, casting several shades of saffron, rowan, brown, gold, orange and tawny upon him; all brought to a close by his striking black paws, and fully ebony black hind leg. His eyes glowed, two twin flames burning softly, surrounded by ashes, providing warmth for those who needed it most.

After it had seemed the she-kit had returned to the present, Slagar felt her little tongue rasp against his pelt, and the warrior looked down into her eyes, listening intently to her words of wisdom.
"Yes, she would have wanted it." The meow was soft, yet strong, he was now partly over his past, and he wasn't going to let it ruin him now.
Tearing away his stare from Starkit, he lifted his gaze to the sky, and his heart sank as he saw the sun climbing higher and higher into the sky. They must have been out here for quite a long time, and he knew he had to go back and do his duties to the clan.
"Well, I guess we should go, look at the sun." The regretful mew came slow, and he gestured toward the sky with his black-tipped tail.
His intention was to rise to his paws and escort the she-kit back to camp, then he heard a faint rustling, and his claws unsheathed as he sank smoothly to the grass.
"Stay still, and don't make a sound." His soft whisper instructed Starkit, he didn't want to miss a chance to hunt.
Weight shifted back into his haunches, he manuvered stealthily, paw over paw towards the bush where his nose had picked up the scent of prey. Once about five tail-lengths away, he sprang silently into the air, shadow lost in the dappled cover of the leaves. A squack emerged from the foliage when he landed, but was soon cut-short by the death-bringing bite. Tail hight in triumph, Slagar padded into the open, a dead pheasant clamped tight in his jaws.
"Well?" His meow was discontorted by the feathers in his mouth, "Shall we be off?"

[Moonstorm]

A ripple of discontent rippled through Starkit at the warrior’s suggestion of returning. Glancing at the sun, as well as the grey clouds that were beginning to scud the horizon, she knew he was right. But she didn’t want to go back. Lifting her maw to the heavens, letting it be caressed by the breeze, she wished it wouldn’t end. Being in the misted enclosure with Slagar felt like a different world, a world where she didn’t have to worry about tedious tasks or the boredom of kit-life. She wanted to stay here, to plant her paws in the dewy grass and let roots grow. The pressure to be the “right” kind of kit evaporated here, just as the dew did when the midday sun illuminated it. Seclusion radiated from every corner of the forest and she wished she could just ignore the world forever, that she could stay immersed in the curls of vapor forever.

She knew she couldn’t. There was a world out there and it was too great to be ignored. Pleasure was equally balanced with tedious tasks, rewards with punishments. Society was where they belonged, where they had to return.

She wished they didn’t have to.

Slagar stiffened besides her, urging her to be quiet. Though her temper was beginning to flare again, she held back her angry retort and, for once, obeyed. She watched with dark sapphires as he tracked and caught a pheasant. Admiration for the ginger warrior flared in her eyes and he proudly held the ball of feathers in his mouth.

Well? Shall we be off?

His words were muffled, garbled by the pheasant. She laughed.

“Sure. It’s about time we get back anyway. Cats will be looking for us.”

And with that, she collected her cached mouse, and the two set off into the fading sunlight.