Fogkit’s “training”(Closed)

Fogkit stretched and found moss ball entangled with leaves and twigs to play with for a while. She pounced at it as if it was a rabbit or a mouse. Fogkit extended her tiny claws and started to rip the moss to pieces leaving shreds of it everywhere. Her fur was of course a mess but when was it never. Fogkit , pleased, stared at what used to be the moss ball with a smirk.

Fogkit thought of it as “training”. She just wanted to prove she was going to best warrior in her clan. The small kit continued mess with the shreds of moss, pouncing on the ones she flung up into the air as they floated back down. Fogkit didn’t seem to notice what a ruckus she was making so she didn’t really care if she was annoying any cat. She was just happy being by herself.

Thrushflight watched the kit from half-lidded eyes. The camp was rather empty at the moment, but that didn’t explain why this kit was playing by herself. When Thrushflight had been Thrushkit, she’d always been in the midst of everything, and would rather clean the nursery than be alone. The kit promised to be a good hunter in the future, however, judging by the way she hurled herself at the poor mossball. For a moment, Thrushflight considered walking over and speaking to the kit, but remained lying in the sun, head on her paws. If the kit wanted to talk, she could come over and talk. If she wanted to play by herself, Thrushflight wouldn’t stop her. Stars knew she’d have to get used to solitude. The moor lent itself well to loneliness, what with the sad wailing of the wind in leaf-bare and the pure bigness of it. Well, maybe Thrushflight would talk to the kit. Maybe. Thoughts moving slow like honey, she laid her head on her paws. If… Fogkit wanted to talk, Thrushflight would talk, but for now… the sun felt wonderful.

Fogkit pounced on the moss once more, but when she got up her tail got in the way and she tripped. Embarrassed, Fogkit stood up quickly and made sure no cat saw. She spotted Thrushflight relaxing in the sun. Though Fogkit liked being playing by herself, she was a bit lonely. Fogkit thought about going over there and asking for a story. The other kits talked about the elders stories all the time in the nursery. Fogkit looked between her moss ball and the elder for a moment. She shrugged and padded towards the elder.

”Hi Thrushflight!“ She mewed happily.

Luckily, Thrushflight hadn’t dozed off yet, although she did give a little start at the high-pitched voice of a kit, the kit she’d been thinking about. Fogkit. Thrushflight yawned and slowly sat up. “Hello, Fogkit. What brings you here?” Kits were good, innocent, pure little things. Her mind flashed back to the SkyClan raid not too long ago. SkyClan brutish, stone-hearted foxing… she gently stopped that train of thought and turned her attention back to the young kit. “Perchance… a story?” Thrushflight had been young when she became an elder, but now she was older than most of the cats in WindClan. She was settling into her role, now, little of the doubts from when she was young persisted. She did rather hope this kit wanted a story- Thrushflight had seen more than most cats.

Fogkit sat down in front of Thrushflight, her tail twitching a bit.

”I would like that,“ she said calming down a bit. She wrapped her tail around her paws and focused on Thrushflight.

Thrushflight purred softly at the kit, wondering which story to tell her. As a young elder, she’d made up stories to suffice for the ones she hadn’t lived through, but now… she’d lived through enough. She knew enough to satisfy this kit. Dawnhawk’s saga was too recent. StarClan’s judgement too severe. The Asylum. Recent enough to awe the kit and distant enough so that the Clan had moved on. ”Moons ago, before you were born, when I was young, there came cats who wore the pelts of predators. Though they slew some of us, Finchstar managed to drive them off. Little did we know this would come back to bite us- with a vengeance. Moons passed. Events happened, like a few kits disappearing from our nursery. I retired to the elders’ den. Olivestar, proud she-cat, was now our leader. Then, they came. Like the wind, they pinned us in our sleep. Cats were killed- elders who hadn’t done a thing. Blood was spilled on the sand. They were the Asylum. They had returned, in force, wearing the pelts of animals. Gatherings were forbidden, as were trips to the Moonstone. The other Clans, as we learned through border skirmishes, had also fallen under the Asylum’s iron claws. Olivestar disappeared in the middle of the night, along with one of WindClan’s heroes, Morningdove. We were without a leader or deputy for a time. Then, StarClan chose Lilacstar. She became our leader, and Dayspring our deputy. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, a few cats in our Clan and others formed a group known as… stars, I can’t remember. The Hunt, or something like it. They tracked the Asylum to Fourtrees and killed the Asylum head. The Asylum members fled- except for a few. The kits that had gone missing many moons ago returned to us. Life went well.” For moons, until Dawnhawk, she finished in her head. Cocking her head, she looked inquisitively at the kit, hoping she liked the story. “Remember that cats from other Clans do not have to be your enemies. Be wary of them, however, until they prove their loyalty…” Gingertalon’s death was still fresh in her mind, as was Dappleshine’s… deaths she was not going to burden this young kit with.

Fogkit looked up at Thrushflight with wide eyes full of curiosity. She sat still for a moment and leapt up.

”That was amazing!“ she exclaimed. Fogkit jumped around bursting with energy and amazement. She was grinning ear to ear and talking on and on about the story. Fogkit smiled at Thrushpelt.
”Thank you for the story.“ she purred.