A Lonely Kit

Hobblekit let out a heavy sigh, stretching himself out into a lounging position outside the nursery. It was unusual to see a kit look so troubled; but then again, it was unusual to see a three-legged kit that was definitely old enough to be an apprentice.

The tortoiseshell stared at the apprentices' den with a mixture of envy and sadness in his green eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want to be an apprentice, he knew that he simply couldn't be one. There was no way he could learn to hunt or fight as fast as the other cats his age, if he even could at all. Oh StarClan, how he wished he could, though.

How he wished he had been born with four legs like everyone else.

How he wished that everyone didn't look at him like he was some kind of monster.

...How he wished that he had friends.

Hobblekit curled up into a little ball, gazing out at the somewhat empty camp. A lot of the other cats were off in the territories WindClan had recently captured. Of course, with his disability, he wasn't allowed to go with them. The young cat sighed again, closing his eyes. Perhaps this was all a dream...He smiled faintly, imagining what it would be like to be complete, to be able to wake up from this nightmare.