|  | Crookedpaw |
Crookedpaw missed home.He missed the warmth of his mother when he would curl up against her in the nursery. He missed the comfort of the apprentice den. He missed going out for training with Blackbear. He missed spending evenings sitting with Rainpaw. He missed eating bird and squirrel, and missed the expansive trees of SkyClan. He just missed home.
The twoleg home did not make much sense; not really. There was always food, but it was dry and gross. They were trapped in a couple select rooms and the twoleg that visited them came in every so often. Every day she chose a new cat to focus on. A couple of the cats liked it, the true kittypets. Most were indifferent or actively avoided her. But she kept trying no matter what. Crookedpaw no longer tried to hide from her, as he learned her patterns. She had yet to choose him as the object of her affection. Crookedpaw hoped that she would continue paying him no mind since she gave him this strange collar with the bowtie on it.
The collar was itchy. He couldn’t get it off of him. He was too nervous to try and ask anyone to help him get it off. So there it remained around his throat, as a constant reminder of what he was now. A kittypet. Was there anything he could have done to continue rejecting the life of a kittypet? It was not as though Crookedpaw was happy here, but he had finally given in and accepted it. Did that make him as bad as those cats born a kittypet? Should Crookedpaw have the chance, of course he would return home…but was it enough?
He watched as the twoleg entered the room for the third time that day. Given her appearance, Crookedpaw guessed that she brought fresh dinner, and he was right as he watched her fill up the bowls scattered around the room with the pellets that he’d been forced to eat. She always came early in the morning with food, a second time without any, and then brought dinner with the third. She played with a different cat each time. This time, as many cats rushed to the newly filled bowls to continue eating, her eyes set on Crookedpaw. When he first arrived here, he hid every time she entered the room, terrified that he was going to be taken away to the Cutter as Rowanpaw had warned him. Now, he had grown…comfortable was not quite the word. Indifferent, perhaps, to the twoleg. He saw no trap in her hand or by the door, and so was not afraid as she approached him.
“How is my handsome Oreo doing today?” she asked as she reached out a hand.
Crookedpaw did not understand much of what the twoleg said, although he’d heard “Oreo” from her a few times and suspected that was the silly name that he had been given by the twoleg. It was not his name, however, and did not think of it as such.
Her hand reached for him and pet down his back. Crookedpaw hesitated. Was it worth it, to continue looking with disgust upon this twoleg? What if he never was to get out? What if this was all he had left? If so, then was there even a point in continuing to act with disdain? He had seen some of the cats that were affectionate towards the twoleg earn treats and other good items like better bedding. Perhaps it was worth it, to give it a try?
And…perhaps having an affectionate touch, even if it was from a twoleg, was nice as well.
Crookedpaw got to his feet and stretched before cautiously pressing up against the twoleg’s hand. She cooed and scratched at him. It felt nice, like rubbing against tree bark, but even more so. He shifted and played up the affectionate touch, which in turn got him more rubs and happy murmurs from the twoleg. It felt wrong. But it felt nice too.
This is just advantageous, isn’t it? I’m gaining trust. Maybe she’ll let me out.It felt true and also like a lie to tell himself. He laid down on his side. Crookedpaw realized how grateful he was that Trufflesnap had already left. If she was around, he knew for certain that he would be seen as a simple kittypet. He wanted to go back home. He wanted to be a warrior. But if he was stuck here, was it so wrong to want some kind of comfort when he had no one of his clan to provide it to him? He thought of Rowanpaw. Crookedpaw enjoyed spending time with him. He wasn’t sure how Rowanpaw felt about him, even now. They were of different clans, and so they could never truly be friends if they got out of here…but Crookedpaw liked being friends with him now. Just like the forbidden pets and scratches from this twoleg, it felt like something Crookedpaw could indulge in for just a little bit without repercussion…right?
The twoleg reached out and picked Crookedpaw up. He flinched, a bit startled by the gesture, and she quickly grabbed his scruff to calm him. Crookedpaw’s mind flitted back to kithood, being whisked around by his mother. His legs instinctively tucked under him and he felt tears flood his eyes. He missed his mother. Would she be ashamed of him if she knew what he was doing here? Would she reject him for being a kittypet like this? Or would Blackbear? Or Rainpaw? The thought left Crookedpaw quaking, even as he curled up in the twoleg’s arms. She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, making his ear twitch. She murmured, “Don’t be scared now. It’s alright.” Her voice was calming but the words were meaningless to him. She cradled him tighter to his chest and he burrowed against her in an effort to keep from thinking about the worrisome thoughts plaguing him.
He had never been to this area of the twoleg nest. She brought him out of the same room he’d been in since he arrived. It felt like he was carried for no time at all, and also an eternity. When she finally set him down, the ground was cold and hard like packed mud, but even harder. It was white and shiny. There was still litter and trash scattered around like in the other room with the cats, but this as different here. Crookedpaw looked around and was so stunned that he didn’t try to dart away or find a way out. He was just confused as to why she brought him here.
“I don’t like to make the others jealous. But I’ve never had a stray warm up to me so fast,” the twoleg explained over her shoulder. Crookedpaw stared at her, not comprehending any of her words. She turned back with a bowl and a can. She set the bowl on the ground. Crookedpaw peered inside, seeing nothing. She cracked open the can and dumped in tuna into the bowl.
The smell of fish hit Crookedpaw’s nose and his stomach immediately growled. He had not been hungry for the bland pellets she fed them, but this spoke a lot more to him. It was no fresh meat, and there was a kind of sterilization with this fish, but it was not as though he’d ever eaten fish before to know if it was different from the usual stuff. All he knew was that it was meat, it was fresher than the pellets, and it almost reminded him of home. Crookedpaw dug in happily, even as shame chewed away at him.
Not only was he a kittypet, but he was like a RiverClanner too? He wished Rowanpaw was out here with him. Perhaps having fish, even if it was the canned twoleg stuff, would help cheer him up a little more.
The twoleg pet him as he ate. Crookedpaw tried not to think about how he was comforted by the touch. She murmured softly to him in words he did not understand and just continued to eat. Was this a life he could get used to? Could he learn to roll over onto his back like the other kittypets, get treats like this, lounge around all day and be lazy? Could he forget his warrior drive and really be content in a life like this…? Crookedpaw was not sure, but he didn’t think so. As comfortable as this could be, and as nice as it was to sleep somewhere warm and shielded from the cold of leafbare…nothing could ever really replace home.
Crookedpaw just hoped that he would still be welcomed home if he ever got out.
