The midday sun had warmed the packed earth of camp a few degrees shy of unbearable and the stagnant humidity in the air was left undisturbed by the breeze. By all acounts, it was a miserable day, and not just because of the greenleaf heat.
Curled up in one of the few shaded corners of camp, Flashkit lay with his angular head on his paws and his eyes dull with unhappiness.
His father Hawkclaw had recently taken up an interest in him now that he was nearly old enough to become an apprentice. The newfound attention wouldn’t have been so bad if it hadn’t only been about readying the scrawny kit for the future his father wanted for him.
The father and son pair had spent every day starting at dawn practicing for Flashkit’s eventual apprenticeship. It was strenuous work for a kit still figuring out where to place his paws. More often than not, Flashkit’s practice ended in disappointing failure— and Hawkclaw was not a gentle teacher. Each misplaced paw resulted in a cuff over the ears or a sharp tongued scolding before eventually his father would stalk off for a patrol, muttering under his breath and casting his son dark glares over his shoulder.
After the first few days, Flashkit had stopped going to his mother for comfort. Meadowspring seemed to share a bit of her mate’s confidence that this would toughen their only surviving son for the life of a truly great WindClan warrior.
Flashkit let out a long, quiet sigh as he thought about it. His shoulders sagged under the heavy weight of his parents’ great expectations and deep within his chest his heat ached with loneliness. Would it have been different if his littermates were there with him?
He turned his heavy lidded gaze towards the sky and watched the tufts of white clouds lazily drift across a deep and endless blue sky.
If Adderkit and Juniperkit were still alive, then would Hawkclaw have been more gentle? Would Meadowspring have been more attentive? If they were still alive, then would Flashkit be playing games and making friends rather than feeling absolutely miserable?
Can you see me in StarClan? Can’t you help me, just a little bit? His silent prayer was met with nothing more than distant birdcall as a small flock flew high overhead.
He didn’t know what he expected— StarClan was supposed to talk to important cats like Ravenstar or Aspenheart— but the abscence of anything that could’ve been a sign from his kin only made his heart ache even more.
Tired in more ways than one, Flashkit heaved himself up onto unsteady paws and began to trudge his way back to the nursery. He would need to rest to get ready for tomorrow’s set of disappointments. Tomorrow he would try again.
