A kit's sadness (open)

Mousekit sighed as he stared from the nursery out into the snow-filled camp. The tom looked back into the basicly empty nursery. He was the only kit exept for one or two others. He slightly growled, then turned back to the camp. His kithood was very lonley. Maybe he would've turned out less temperamental and angry if he had some company. Being this alone almost drove him mad. His poor soul ached and thirsted for a cat to company him in his cold, hard life. A pain filled his chest. Not a pain of a sickness or injury, not a pain that a meidicne cat could heal, but an internal pain from his heart that braught tears to his eyes. Mousekit never let a tear fall though. No matter how angry, sad, or lonley he was, he vowed that he would never cry. The depressed tom's bright amber eyes that were almost more of a red-orange color flickered in the freezing cold daylight that was starting to burn out and go down on the horizon. The cold bit at his skin, but he didn't care. Mousekit stood up and took a step outside into the deep snow. His paws sunk in, and the almost apprentice-sized kit was covered up to where his legs met his body in snow. He struggled through the deep, flakey, white substance to a nice spot. He cleared away a the snow so that he could sit down. Mousekit's ears pricked up as he saw a cat near-by. He wondered if this cat would come and company him.

Blizzardsky yawned, trudging over to the fresh-kill pile. He grumbled to himself, trying his best to ignore the uncomfortable coldness that nipped at his paws. He bent down to swipe a mouse in his jaws, but he noticed a familiar kit sitting by himself. The black and white warrior stared at the kit, Mousekit. "Ah, is something wrong?" he asked lowly, noticing that the little tomkit seemed troubled. It was easy to tell that something was upsetting him.

Mousekit sighed and wondered to himself if he should tell Blizzardsky about his problem. He might think I'm weak and overreacting. Mousekit instead lied. "No, I'm just cold, thats all." He tried to make his voice sound less sad and his eyes seem less gloomy. The kit curled his long tail around his small paws to keep them warm in the snow. Mousekit's long whiskers drooped down and his pointy ears almost lay down on his head. His mainly brown unusual looking tabby fur clung to his body and sagged down. He was a sad sight, but he perked up his ears and twitched his whiskers. He shook his pelt and stood up, now somehow looking happier. "I'm fine."

Blizzardsky studied the kit, sensing his emotions. "If you were cold, you would not have come out into the snow." He stared for a while, almost too long, as he doubted the kit. He glanced up at the camp entrance and back at the kit before deciding to sit down next to him. "You can be honest," the tom began. "I was a kit once, too." He wasn't sure how to comfort him. It wasn't like Blizzardsky was a father or conversed with kits all the time. He shuffled uneasily, hoping that Mousekit wasn't uncomfortable by his presence.

Mousekit needed to work on his lying. After a moment of silence, Mousekit sighed and finally told Blizzardsky what was wrong. "I guess that I'm just a bit lonely. I feel...I don't know. I feel sad." The Tom was bad at describing his emotions. He wasn't one too pour out his feelings and cry. He'd rather deal with his problems and continue on with life, but this sadness ate him up and he couldn't deal with it without getting devoured by it. Mousekit shuffled his paw in the snow, not looking up at the warrior.

Blizzardsky hesitated, feeling a pang of sympathy for the kit. "What about your mother? And your littermates?" He glanced up, scanning the clearing for other unfamiliar kits. After a long pause, he sighed, billowing smoke from his jaws in the cold, frigid air. A cold wind buffeted him, and he scooted to shield the small kit from it. Some snow kicked up and dusted his black spots with white flecks. "I didn't catch your name," he urged, hoping the name would ring a bell.

"I wasn't born with littermates," Mousekit said. "I don't have any siblings. My mother doesn't play or hangout with me." As the warrior sheilded him from the wind, the tom felt grateful that Blizzardsky did so. "My name is Mousekit." He looked up at Blizzardsky. "What's your's?"

"Blizzardsky," he answered proudly, whiskers twitching with delight at the sound of his new, recent name. He nodded at the kit's words as he explained about his loneliness. "I know how you feel. My siblings don't talk to me much..." He trailed off, thinking of how successful his kin were compared to him. Shaking the thought, Blizzardsky turned back to the kit, an idea springing into his mind. "You know, the name Mousekit kinda rings a bell. Yeah- I think Thrushstar mentioned a Mousekit having an apprentice ceremony planned very soon." He glanced at the kitten, eyes gleaming. It wasn't true, but he was sure that Mousekit would be an apprentice soon enough. Although, he was considerably small...

Mousekit smiled only slightly at the mention of his apprentice ceremony. The under-sized cat puffed out his chest proudly. "Well, I am strong and smart enough to be an apprentice," The young tom said pridefully. "I wonder who my mentor would be."

Blizzardsky gave a sigh of relief that Mousekit was showing signs of happiness. He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe Thrushstar will make me your mentor." The black and white warrior stretched, claws digging into the snow. He silently hoped he would not be a mentor to any cat. He wasn't a good teacher at anything. He gazed down at Mousekit, studying his face. "Are you alright now?"