I remember you..?

Just an ordinary day, that was everyday for the slender ginger and white tom, Whitefoot of Riverclan.  The morning started out like any other, stretching, grooming, eating, checking on his crush Tansyfoot before leaving for his morning walk. Sure he could've joined the morning patrols but he enjoyed some alone time. In this time he revels in his life so far, his choices, regrets. This particular morning as he padded through his home territory thinking of his family situation, straining his mind to remember even an outline of his mother's form. But, he couldn't remember anything except distant wailing and dark blurry shapes. As he walked he caught the fresh scent of a cat, somewhere close. Curling his lips in a snarl and pinning his ears he bounded forth to greet the mystery cat. If only he knew who she was..

Despite being gone for many moons, the stench of RiverClan still got on the she-cat's nerves in a way that really only a true ThunderClan cat would feel. From the moment Coalfur had been born, she'd been taught by her parents, Hazelfur and Crowleap to associate RiverClan with mistrust and danger. But that wasn't why she hated this land now, once it had been the dislike for the fish eating scum. However now it was the acute pain of loss. She'd been carrying her newborn she-kit and tom-kit when she'd last traversed these territories. There was a mighty storm, and the river had swollen more than she'd planned. She'd left her son for a moment in the reeds, taking only her white she-kit with her across the river. But when she came back, he was gone.

A part of her liked to think that RiverClan had found him and taken him in. But she never was able to stick around and check. She's been gaunt, weak after kitting.

It was only now, after spending moons building up her old strength that she dared to wander into these territories. She thought she was being stealthy as she slipped through the reeds, but she was unused to these wet lands. And her forest/twoleg scent was too distinct amongst the reeds and waters. But she didn't think of such things, all she wanted was to see a glimpse of a kit she'd lost. A little tom with ginger fur and a white paw. A son.


OOC: Sorry it took me six years to reply -_-

OOC~ No worries <3

Whitefoot tasted the air and caught the foresty scent, Not quite Thunderclan? I better check it out. Pinning his ears he padded forward and leapt out of the reeds in front of the mystery cat. Narrowing his amber eyes he growled menacingly, "What purpose do you have for treading on clan territory rouge!" He spat angrily.

"Rogue...? Yes. I guess I am a rogue." The black she-cat murmured to herself, her white paws digging into the pebbly sand ready to bolt if the confrontation got too heated. She had no intention of ending up battered and bruised so soon after her last wounds, she was here to talk, not to fight. "I'm here to find, no... To just see if a kit I left behind lives. If he's not here or dead, I'll just move on. I wish no conflict with your clan."

As she spoke, she took pauses, distracted by his appearance. He looked like the kit she'd lost, but it had been so long since he last saw her. It was hard for her to remember exactly what he'd looked like. All she remembered that the tomkit had taken after Mittens, her kittypet lover.

As she spoke Whitefoot shifted uneasily in her gaze, What's she looking at? Crouching he growled and  turned his head away as he listened to her, "A kit you left? How could you leave a kit! You're almost as bad as my mother! She abandoned me! Think of how the scrap must feel!" He spat at her, bushing up his fur and taking an angry step forward. As he spoke clouded memories crept back into his mind. The memories of the dark shape that was his mother.

"I never meant to leave him here. I had planned a life together with him and my little she-kit, but StarClan was cruel and tore them both away from me." She snarled reflexively, a terrible trait of hers where she spoke of mind often, inspired by the whirlwind emotions within. Her fur bristled like the tom's tensing up as she meowed loudly. Without noticing, she gave away the fact she wasn't the rogue she claimed she was. "No mother wants to give up their kits, but to have kept mine would have condemned them to be kittypets or rogues. That is no life for a cat."

Startled Whitefoot glared at her, "Who are you really? What's this cat look like?" He knew he should take her to camp but something about her, was so undeniably familiar. Questions popped into his mind, almost desperate for answers.

"Who am I isn't important. My son, he was so small. He took after Mittens, a little ginger kit with blue eyes. But he was a kit after all. I don't know if he still has them, or did they change to be amber like Mittens? He had one white sock though. Like mine." Coalfur spoke distantly, eyes glazing over while remembering her tomkit who'd disappeared. She braced herself to hear the worst, the tom had never heard of such a kit before and that her son was probably dead. Perhaps it was for the best. "He would have made a fine warrior. Duskf- my brother would have adored him. I should have never left him alone."

Whitefoot gasped, and slowly began speaking. "I'm the only adopted ginger and white tom in all of Riverclan..I can't remember my birth mother..Tell me how you lost your kit?" He mewed almost in disbelief, Is she my mother? No! I can't remember! His amber eyes focused on her every small movement.

There was a stirring of hope in her heart, her blue eyes intent as they roamed over the tom in a new light. Could he be...? No. She stopped herself from getting her hopes up. The last time she'd hoped, she found out her daughter, Silkcloud had died. No. She would be patient and not leap to conclusions. "I... I... No, I must start further back. I'd fallen into the river and had been rescued by Twoleg. They cured me, but they caged me like a kittypet. They refused to let me be free. While there, I met a tom. Mittens. I grew to care for him, and eventually took him as my mate. We had kittens. Five of them. But the Twolegs tried to take them away from me, to be raised as pets by others. One by one, they took them away.

I knew I couldn't stay, and Mittens understood. We snuck out in the dead of the night. Carrying with us a kitten each. We made it to the borders of WindClan, but Mittens, the fool got hit by a monster." She paused, grief choking her briefly before continuing. "So I set on alone, carrying with me my son and my daughter. I took them to the River, but a storm had swollen it so that carrying both would mean risking death. So I placed my son by the reeds, and took my daughter to the other side first. But by the time I got back, he was gone. I looked around frantically, but I couldn't find him. I thought. I thought to myself, he was dead. And with my daughter taken in by my brother, I thought, I thought it was for the best that I left. I'd failed as a mother, as a mate. But I had to come back. Make sure."

Whitefoot stared in horror as she spoke fog crept over his mind, and all of the sudden he was back at that horrifying day. Mewling tired and hungrily as his mother had left him in the poky reeds, when he had tried to go after her the lapping waves reached up and snatched him. His cries drowned out by the thunder, he paddled hard but eventually gave up. Yet Starclan was kind and the waves threw him on shore, where he weakly crept further into Riverclan territory. Collapsing until the warrior Salmonstripe found him curled up in the reeds soggy. Coming back to the present he stood shivering in fear, quietly he murmer, "I remember you, mother." He choked out.

"Is it, Is it really you then? Are you my little tomkit?" Coalfur spoke hesitantly, held back from leap forth and pressing herself against him by her self-doubt and hatred for not checking sooner. Her blue eyes were trained on him, looking over every little thing. Yes, he had to be her son. He had her lone white sock and short fur like most of her family did. A lithe build, her brother and her parents. Yes, he had to be. "Yes. No. You're definitely my son. What... What is your name? Did they treat you well here?"

Whitefoot mewed holding back tears, "They call me Whitefoot, yes, I am a full warrior of Riverclan." He padded forward softly to touch noses if she allowed it.

The moment he showed any interest in interacting with her, the dam was burst. She touched noses with him, then pressed her herself against his ginger fur. Breathing in the familiar yet foreign scent of her long lost kit. He'd grown so much, she missed so much of his life. Tears welled as she clung to her kitten. "Whitefoot. A beautiful name. It suits you. My name is Coalfur. I am, was a ThunderClan warrior... You've grown well, my son. So many nights I spent worried that you were dead or worse. I'm glad RiverClan treated you well. Perhaps I was too hasty to dislike RiverClan in my youth. Do you have any family? A mate? Kits?

So swept up in emotions he managed to mew, "I have 4 kittens; Sunkit, Fallenkit, Halfkit, and Rushkit. My mate Tansyfoot died during her kitting. The warrior who adopted me isn't my mother, I despise her. But her first born son Troutstep is my brother, maybe not blood but we're very close." His mew muffled by her fur that he currently buried his muzzle in. Loving her scent, he couldn't help but feel like a tiny kitten again.