Flying Cats & Lonely Kits [Open]

Another day, another chance to do absolutely nothing.

Greykit glanced up from where he was sprawled out on a rock, trying to absorb as much sun as he could despite his light-coloured pelt. His silvery eyes caught the light in an entrancing fashion, though his possibly innocent appearance was overridden by his lax, apathetic face and half-lidded gaze.

The kit didn't feel like walking all the way to the elders' den today, his lack of sleep from the night before making it seem like his usual choice of spot by the elders was thousands of foxlengths away... or maybe that was just because he was so small...

Nonetheless, he wasn't going to even bother, much too troublesome.

His gaze drifted up to what he could see of the sky above, the slightly darkening hue of blue a tad painted with the warmer colours of sundown. In the distance, the kit could hear a crow calling to its kin in the trees, and an idea snagged his mind.

Greykit wondered why cats couldn't fly. He thought it was rather rude for them to be forced to stay on the ground, trapped by terrain, the freedom flight must be having been taken from them before they even knew how it tasted. Such cruelty gone unaccounted for, how truly horrid!

No, he wouldn't let it rest.

The kit closed his eyes, relaxing further into the aura of the calm camp, the slight splashes of fish being hooked a familiar sound to his ear, but the thought of the river sent chills down his spine. No, now wasn't the time, he was trying to figure out how to fly! He pushed the haunting memory away, having to restart the process of full immersion once again.

He took in anything and everything, even the distant sound of the rumoured monsters on the aptly-named thunderpath. He seized the idea, and let his ever-churning mind run with it. For a while he twisted through his thoughts, the outlandish ideas seeming totally possible to the inexperienced kit.

His grey hues snapped open, a slight, rare smile on his small muzzle. The glint of kithood briefly returning to his often lackadaisical gaze.

He shifted, twisting his front so that his stubby legs rested properly on the cooling stone below. Oddly rounded ears were perked, as he wondered who he would tell his marvellous idea to! Perhaps he would be made an apprentice early because of how incredibly great it was!

His gaze drifted to the elders' den once again. Usually, he was near enough to ramble to them as they dozed through the day, only humoured occasionally by the aged felines, which was good enough for him. Often the kit insisted on bringing them a mouse or two from the fresh-kill pile. He claimed it was a gift but truly it was just to appease them so they would actually bother listening to him, sort of like payment.

He hadn't come by today with the pleasant food, maybe they'd come to him? Now wouldn't that be a change?

His gaze drifted down again, ignoring as some unnoted clan member walked past his spot. His stormy eyes landed on a long bug, crawling toward the rock as if trying to get under it. Greykit placed his paw down in front of it instead, and it paused in confusion. Then, the creature began meandering up the small, totally-not lonely cat's arm.

Grey huffed. "Well, even if I don't have those old cats to talk to today, I have you! I'm sure you'd love to know how to fly." He nodded absently.

Of course, the kit was not aware that the small bug would likely not want to fly, it would be all the easier for the birds to eat it.

Troutbelly needed to stretch his paws. It had been too long since he had walked out of the elder’s den, and the aging brown spotted tabby could have sworn the air was getting stale.

Water lapped at the edges of camp, which made him smile from ear to ear. Although his ears weren’t the best anymore, there was something about silence with water that was rather comforting. He grinned as he playfully splashed a paw in the water. Stars, it had been seasons since the tomcat took a swim. Perhaps he needed to rope a warrior into letting the old coot soak in the river.

As he padded towards the warrior’s den for a lifeguard, he noticed a familiar face talking to a bug. “Hullo,” Troutbelly rumbled, looking down at his friend. “Does ya buddy have a name?”

He didn’t care for bugs, instead collecting rocks and feathers and anything else he could get his paws on. Bugs were an unfortunate byproduct, but perhaps his young friend would like to see them.

“Havin’ a good day, bud?”

Greykit idled a bit longer, peering at the centipede as it, surprisingly, didn't bite him. His brain got sidetracked, and he wondered if it ate leaves, like caterpillars, or other bugs, as spiders did. Maybe it would eat meat, like a cat!

The small kit shifted slightly, hooking the mouse he had grabbed for himself but didn't feel like eating. He rarely felt like eating, his mind was so much more attention-catching than his faint hunger... and sometimes other thoughts just made his stomach churn at the thought of eating anything.

Bending down as the centipede crawled up his back and onto his head, he tore off a chunk of meat, and placed it on the rock. Allowing the many-legged bug to crawl on his paw, he lowered what he assumed was its head near the morsel of meat.

For awhile its funny little antennae felt the fresh flesh, and then it scooted over, hovering near-immobile close to its surface... Greykit assumed whatever was its eating hole was working at the meal. He smiled slightly, what an odd little bug.

He looked up as slow paw steps approached him, and saw the familiar visage of one of the elders. The timber-coloured pelt, dappled with spots, was perfectly recognizable to him. He let out a small purr, basking in the low energy of the aged tom, and smiled slightly.

"Hey Troutbelly, din' think ya'd be walking 'round today." He spoke, voice young, and words slightly fragmented due to him not having fully grasped how to communicate fluidly. "Yer old bones bothering ya yet?" The kit grinned a bit cheekily, always more outgoing around the two elders, and seeing them as extended family (Not that he'd ever admit that to them).

He glanced down as the tom addressed his new centipede friend. A small, thoughtful frown decorated his face. Then, he grinned, having thought of a name he was sure was very creative. "Squirms!" He shifted, grey hues looking back up at the elder.

The insect in question seemed satisfied with its meal and began crawling on the kit again, likely planning to leave soon due to it being much too open for its liking. Greykit kept in near a bit longer, but eventually let it crawl away. He watched it as it made its way to the ground, and then squirmed, digging its way into the soil and under the rock. Idly Grey wondered if cats could live underground, in something like tunnels. He'd totally want to live in a tunnel, it'd probably be super cool.

He paused in contemplation with the next question, having to think hard on if his day of being lazy would be considered 'good'. The kit shifted a bit. "Guess it's been kinda good, mostly just 'njoying being able to loaf around before I become an apprentice, and have to work." His nose scrunched up at the deplorable thought of having to extend effort at all in the future. Sure there were some benefits to being a warrior eventually, he'll get to bask in even more places, and just sit and enjoy the view outside the camp. Gatherings would be pretty cool too... but the cons were about as enjoyable as mouse bile.

Another thought struck him, and his energy from before faded. He plopped his head onto his paws, eyes averted from the elder. "Last night wasn' good though... had 'nother nightmare..." He curled up, shifting from his sprawled position. "Same as they usually are. Mum and dad, and brother and sister getting eaten by the river."

He kept his eyes down, now in a balled side-lay. His furry tail hiding his appendages from view. He had recently been having the nightmares more often as apprenticeship grew ever-closer. He had even simply tried not sleeping a few times, but his small body would eventually slip into it unknowingly, not yet strong enough to handle even a slight shift from normal sleeping habits.

He didn't like the nightmares and wished they would simply go away.

After visiting Spider, Dennis, in the medicine cat's den, the tom's ailing physical state felt a brief moment of reprieve from the normal aches and pains that it often felt. With this frail sense of ability, and the pleasant nature of the day, Carpsplash hesitated in his pursuit of returning to the well-worn, reed-lined nest that he called his own. It appeared that Troutbelly was entertaining the presence of the clans kits. This seemed like the prime opportunity to share some wisdom, or tell of the many epic tales of their great clans. Perhaps he and the elder would have different tidbits to recount, or they could simply reminisce as the little tom wore out the little bug wriggling about on the worn earth.

Regardless, there were many possibilities, and for once he was feeling well enough to not pass up the opportunity. There was a mild spring to his step, one that was abnormal from his usually wobbly and slow gait. Even so, his paws were still fairly heavy and scuffed at the dust of camp, leaving weighted pawprints behind. It took a few moments before he was within a taillength of the pair and he glance between them both with prying and dulled eyes. Despite the hesitation, the former warrior's gaze was filled less with hesitant questions, and more with a natural born desire to further assess the situation he was getting himself into.

"Keeping yourself busy, hm, kit? A good thing, I supposed. You know unburdened paws end up used by the dark forest." Carpsplash glanced to his elder counterpart and tipped his head slightly, ignorant to whatever conversation he'd interrupted, as was usually for his ignorant self, "I remember back when I was younger having to patch up the nursery during floods. Even the kits had to lend a paw then. Surely you remember that Troutbelly? Your sharp young mind and all." There was a mild note of teasing as he directed the sentiment towards the other elder. The pair hadn't spent much time together, despite being condemned to the same musty, old den. But he was a clanmate and one that had been around for sometime, more than readily available for the teasing of Carpsplash.

"These ol' bones was thinkin' bout a swim," the spotted tabby rumbled, a small smile on his maw. "They'd think I'd got fish for brains if I jus' walked over there without nobody ta watch me."

Troutbelly chuckled at the kit's antics. "Squirms, eh? You know, buddy, your friend may need to go along home now."

His expression softened when the kit confided about nightmares. "You know, bud, I've lived long 'nuff ta see cats come n' go. Whether it's the river, greencough, or their time. Cats I loved, cats I hated. The best thing I'd tell ya is ta remember the good. Leave out the rest, ya hear?"

Perhaps he needed to take his own advice, he thought to himself. His sister Shellfur's kitting was late in newleaf, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at yet another four seasons gone without her.

He was jarred back to the moment by Carpsplash.

"Stars, ya sound like my mama," Troutbelly snickered. "I couldn't forget it if I tried, I could've sworn there was one time when I was barely off my mama's belly that they wanted me to roll moss for those nests..."

The tom's green eyes flicked to Carpsplash's face. "What're ya idle paws doin' 'round here, anyway?"

Grey smiled a bit at the Elder's response to his teasing, tail twitching idly. The elder's words of wisdom returned his face to its solemn expression from before. "Hard ta leave out the rest when it doesn' want ya to." He picked at the stone with his claws, glancing up as another familiar elder waltzed up. An amused glint flashed through his young eyes. "Been a while since I've seen ya up, Carpsplash." He remembered the times he'd just walk over to the elder's den and would just chat with them, if carp was there, he usually seemed to be asleep... or just didn't care, who knows.

The kit tilted his head at the elder's question, snorting. "Keeping busy? Nah, that's for when I'mma become an apprentice. There's only two times inya' life where you're free to mostly jus' relax. Kithood, 'n Elderhood. Imma enjoy it while I can." He didn't quite grasp what the dark forest was, he had heard it used as warnings by queens and occasionally elders, but never asked why. Mostly because he assumed it was tied with starclan, and if he got an explanation then he'd probably question something about it and offend someone.

No thank you, he kept his toes out of the drama when he could.

So, the kit tried to keep the lack of comprehension about the warning out of his gaze. He frowned though, at the next part, suddenly anxious. "Floods...?" He hadn't thought about those, terror surged through him at the thought of the murky river invading the place he thought was safe from its tendrils. Ears pinning slightly, he gast his gaze toward the faint sound of rushing water, claws scraping against the stone.

The story the elder was trying to tell went unnoticed by the small kit who had made his new, horrifying revelation. The river might catch him in the future within the safety of his den and drag him down in its depths to join the dead bodies of his parents and siblings.

He swallowed roughly. Rather Ironic that the kit was more afraid of the river than the Dark Forest.

"Think I'm some old queen, eh?" Carpsplash snorted indignantly as a response to the other elder, "Why I'm almost feeling good enough to show you how to respect your elders with my claws." While his voice was grizzled, portraying his usual grouchy behavior, as the tom slid his cracking claws into the moist earth, there were hints of a smile across his maw. Troutbelly was some seasons younger but still nearly old as the beech trees. Admittedly, he enjoyed the other tom's company, even if he pretended otherwise at time.

With that settled, he turned his attention back to the kit, nodding along with his fellow elder's words. The question caused his ear to flicker. Greykit echoed the sentiment with his own notation of the whithering old cat's usually stagnant state. It itched his pelt like river debris to think of how wholly incapable he'd become. Dull eyes flickered back to regard his fading coat for a moment before finally giving an answer, "Surely it's not strange to see the clan's most seasoned warrior out and about. But, uh, alright, medicine cat fixed me up with some herbs. I'm feeling spry as when I first became an elder." Speaking to Dartfoot not long before had helped him to come to terms with his own helplessness and the flicker of a spark in his gaze reflected that now.

He noticed after a moment that the kit seemed to be overwhelmed with thoughts, dwelling on the dangers of the flood. Carpsplash stretched out a forepaw to prod him slightly, offering the faintest of reassuring smiles and a rasping voice, "Don't worry too much kit. The river flows through your veins. It only takes those who have over stayed their welcome, so if anything, I'll be swimming with the minnows next. In fact, I've lived more than many of their lifetimes so I might be giving them swimming lessons." His tail flickered ever so slightly, "You got enough energy to fetch me a fish? We'll share and give you a taste of elderhood before it becomes a full-time duty, hm?"

Troutbelly snorted. "You're runnin' a swimmin' class?"

When Carpsplash mentioned the river taking those when it was their time, he tried to give a forehead lick to Greykit. "Lil' buddy, you couldn't have done nothing. RiverClan's the strongest Clan in all the forest 'cause we know our river. And the river comes n' the river goes... n' she's a strong one. Don't beat yo'self up."

"I was actually gonna find some warrior to let me take a dip in the river. Ya interested? 'Course, we can get some fish too. If ya still can catch some!"

His ears flattened slightly as he was snapped out of his spiralling thoughts by Carp, by effectively getting booped on the forehead, he looked up, lingering traces of fear in his gaze as he listened to the elder's words. They weren't reassuring, it just made him wonder why the river decided to drown his siblings, who were merely a moon old... how would that be overstayed?... It wasn't fair, not in the slightest.

He cast his gaze to the ground, ears remaining drooped in slight grief, and slight frustration. He took a breath pausing as he looked up once again, trying to distract himself from the dark thoughts. "Well, ya gotta at least live 'till I become an apprentice, kay?" His nose scrunched up as his train of thought was interrupted by Trout lapping his forehead like some sort of queen. He shook out his fur, frowning slightly, and keeping his tongue still as Trout offered their own insight. He didn't comment on it any further, trying to shut down the topic so he didn't have to think about it.

Grey's gaze switched back to Carp as they spoke once more, "If ya mean from the fresh-kill pile... I dunno, a buncha those fish are at most my size, at least half it. I can handle a minnow but that's not much to eat for three cats... would be troublesome to drag anything larger to ya anyways." He snorted, casually flapping a paw a beat before continuing, "I ain't going near that river though." 'At least not until I'm forced to' he added silently. He was more likely to panic and run into the forest if he had to face his fear than to overcome it and even dip a single paw into its depths.

"If ya go hunting I'll stay here. Wanted to tell ya about a new idea I had but I guess it can wait." He frowned, displeased his conversation had gotten so sidetracked... and dark. He couldn't catch a break from his cruel subconscious these days, when it wasn't supplying him with a steady amount of fabulous ideas, it was dumping fear and depression on him. Constantly.

That's why he tried to nap to forget.

(It was a slightly successful tactic... kinda.)

"Yeah, and you bet I could teach you a thing or two." Carpsplash's whiskers twitched and he bumped his rear-hind hip into the other elder lightly. He turned his eyes to the kit, noting the lack of excitement when it came to the river. It couldn't be helped, he supposed, such a wild beast was something not easily tamed. The vast depths of the river that ran the length of their territory provided plenty to the clan and supported them. But there were also times where it took and swallowed. Long ago, in kithood, the tabby tom had also struggled with such ideas. Eventually, Greykit would understand; it was just as Troutbelly said.

"Mhm, I was thinking the fresh kill pile. Elders have to eat to you know. I spent many moons hunting for this clan. It's time for some cat to feed me." He paused, glancing in the direction of the hardily stocked pile, "Don't suppose you'd be down for an early hunting lesson though? Maybe in the shallows near camp. Best way to feed a cat is to teach him to fish. Then you could better feed us." Carpsplash huffed lowly, a replacement to a laugh at his own joke. He turned, wriggling his rump slightly in subconsciously odd manner he did. Such a motion likely looked better on a cat with a tail. With the new found energy in his bones, at least for the moment, the sandy elder had been prepared to lead the way out of camp but paused at the kits words.

"New idea? What new idea, kit? Spit it out."