a city and a church [open]
Dec 1, 2013 8:56:47 GMT -8
Dec 1, 2013 8:56:47 GMT -8
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 shape barreled into him.