A Dusty New Friend (c)

Ryekit was bored....his siblings were sleeping and his mother didn't really care for him: or so it seemed. The silver black-stripped tabby was inclined to wander out of the nusrery in the form of adventure or something of the sorts. As he walked out he looked to his left and saw a silent shadow watching him. Being accustomed to these shadowy figures he had no fear of them and walked straight up to one. "My name is Ryekit, would you like to be my friend?" he asked, neither friendly nor unfriendly towards the tom.

Life was returning to some normalcy for Lionfur... yet at the same time, it was not. While he had been alive, a few cats had disliked him. But now, everywhere he went, there were hard looks and stares. He could easily attack any cat who judged him, could slit their throat with nothing but a dismissive swipe of his claws. But why would he? Who would he rule over then? Besides, Goldenstar was "in charge" for now. Though that wouldn't last long. She would slip up eventually, and then... it would be his turn. But for now, he was lonely. He missed Nightheart. He missed his kits. And the one acquaintance he'd made, Whisperpaw, was often busy with training; not that the apprentice was overly fond of him either.

As the tom sat, musing, he was surprised by the sudden approach of a cat. A tiny one, no less. A kit... Who wasn't afraid of him? Who didn't see the small bloody wounds at his throat and run in fear, whose mother did not keep him tucked away? Interesting. Lionfur's momentary bemusement changed to a slow smile on his face. What an opportunity! It was so hard to get any cat to like him due to his awful compatriots... but who easier to convince than a kit? "Hello Ryekit," he meowed, putting on the same friendly tone he had used with his own kits. "I'm Lionfur. I would love to be friends with you."

Ryekit looked at Lionfur with amusement. "You don't need to take that tone with me, it's a tone that is used for kits. Although I might be a kit you don't have to treat me like one." he muttered and then looked defiently at Lionfur. "And thanks, although if I am being annoying, since I am a kit, you could always say no to being my friend." he had seen the bloody throat wounds on the dead tom but hadn't though much about it because he had been there when he was born and as far as Ryekit knew he was still a cat.

Lionfur blinked slowly at the tom's voice, narrowing his unnatural red-gold eyes. It wasn't just a kit-voice; he took this friendly tone with most cats he approached, if they were open to him doing so. Still-- if it was a different voice Ryekit wanted, it was a different voice he would get. "All right," he agreed, letting his tone drop from light and friendly to something darker and more smooth. "Trust me, I don't let just anybody be my friend. But you seem like a promising young tom. Something tells me you'll be a great apprentice soon." He raised a golden-furred paw and licked it nonchalantly. "What do you plan to do with your life, Ryekit?"

Ryekit smiled at the tom's voice drop, finally getting his real voice and his real personality. "I plan to become an apprentice as soon as possible and then serving the clan to the best of my abilities." he said smoothly. His mother, Ashfall, had told him stories of these cats, how they were horrible and how they did hiddious acts in order to get into the dark forest. So, for him to be sly and no upfront with Lionfur would be perfectly natural to the tom. The smaller silver tom noticed that those eyes of his were unusually golden-red, something to be wary of since that was not a natural color and that meant that something was happening behind those eyes.

As a kit, soon to be an apprentice, his thought process was unusually fast and smart. He believed that his mother noticed this and that is why she would be training her kits herself as well as having a mentor for her kits. There was no father figure in Ryekit's life, so he would become the best, strongest, fastest and smartest cat in the clan.

How old was this kit, anyway? The little tom was very strange for his age. To be fair, Lionfur had been like that too. He had just been... better at hiding it. Even now, much of his true personality simmered quietly under the suave personality he donned like a second pelt. "Ah, I see. You and every other kit in the nursery, including your siblings, I'd imagine." In the sunlight, the crimson color overlaying his eyes became more pronounced. His gaze met Ryekit's. "Still, a perfectly worthy goal. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that your only ambition is serving the best Clan in the forest." The tip of his tail flicked lightly, almost dismissively. If there were more cats to talk to, more who would listen to him, he would likely turn away and pursue some other, more interesting conversation. If the kit wasn't interested in truly discussing such things with him, there wouldn't be too much of a point. However, Lionfur wasn't giving up quite yet-- if only because he had nothing better to do. Ryekit could be a valuable ally if he played his cards right.

Ryekit rolled his eyes at the golden cat with dirt coming off of his fur. "No, my siblings don't have any ambition or anything. All they want to do is to sleep in the nursery and not take any fighting lessons." He flicked his tail dissmissivly like the older tom did, trying to copy what he did in the same manner.

The kit, almost apprentice, noted that he said the 'best clan.' "Lionfur, which clan where you in? You said that the young kits want to serve the best clan." he said. "You didn't say Windclan even though you are currently here." The larger kit looked at the dead cat with curious and guarded eyes.