When Will I Grow Big? [[Open]]

It was a cool, new-leaf day for Brackenkit. His fur was not too warm, but he was also not very cold. However, he the nursery was getting very stuffy and his legs sore from holding still. As he stood, the very new tom stretched back his hind legs, feeling them quiver with the effort of retaining the elasticity the den had deprived him of. After equally stretching his front legs, the kit set out for his journey.

When he exited, Brackenkit's green eyes were blinded by the harsh light of the sun. With a small cry, he stumbled forward until he regained his eyesight and was able to see properly. Straightening up with embarrassment from his kit-like state, his small tabby head glanced around. The camp looked a lot bigger than he had ever imagined. Warriors were going about their days, and they looked bigger than he ever thought cats could grow. He had only ever seen his mother and she frequently was laying down and was small as it is.

Brackenkit's eyes stretched wide in amazement as a full-grown RiverClan warrior passed him on their way to exit the camp. A small coo of excitement escaped his lips. One day, he hoped to be just as big as that warrior. Enticed by his new visions so soon, the young kit took off at a fast trot. He circled the large camp, stopping to sniff at rocks and reeds he came across. By the time he had sniffed out a shady place to rest, he was by the apprentice's den with weary paws. For his first trip out, the kit had made it far. While resting, he observed camp life quietly, considering the movements and conversations his future clanmates were holding.

Goosekit purred at his mother before leaving the nursery. So many times he had watched the world outside the den he had always known. He was quite curious as to what it held. He didn't have much interest in socializing: he'd rather take a look around. 

He strutted out, stumbling over his own paws awkwardly before his fur prickled in embarrassment. Keep it together, Goosekit, don't draw attention to yourself! The kit trotted out to the center, meowing an apology when he stepped on an apprentice's tail. He was so caught up in the sun and the breeze and the sweet smell of fresh-kill and the soft hum of warriors gossiping that he completely headbutted another kitten.

He looked up at the bigger kit. Why did I have to be the runt of every litter? He stared up into the green eyes of Brackenkit. He was in no hurry to start a conversation, but he got himself into it. 

"S-sorry, Brackenkit..." he mumbled, shuffling back. "I'm a little mousebrained somet-times."