Three Seasons [open]

The rich darkness of the early morning sky was faintly illuminated with the soft, watery colors of the slowly rising sun that lingered just below the jagged outline of the Highstones. The decaying carcasses of mixed grasses and sparse undergrowth that encased the duration of WindClan's moorland was heavily laden with freshly dusted flecks of frost, softening the unpleasantly brisk morning air with the sweet taste of humidity. Only the occasional stray breeze, borne from an unknown place beyond the furthest reaches of the ancient mountains, was exhaled to life in the absence of any unwelcome movement. The moorland, often so tranquil and void of the deafening roar often found within the cramped confines of the forest, was quite serene most days. The utmost quietude was what one craved, what one needed when it came to the strenuous process of recovery. For a mother who valued the companionship of solitude and silence whenever undergoing the arduous experience of giving birth, it was quite the welcomed miracle- the ability to retreat from the unwarranted presence of prying eyes and ears and instead withdraw to the privacy of her own company was truly a gift.

Yet now, after several sunrises after rearing her less than anticipated litter in the seclusion of a nearby rabbit warren, Brindlestar was aware of the fact that it was time for her to return. Swiftstep and several of her Senior Warriors could very well handle merely overseeing the simplest of daily tasks, but she could only dwell for such a brief period of time. She had a Clan to run, whether her latest brood understood such a factor or not. However, venturing to the sanctuary of WindClan's well-sheltered camp had proven to be quite the cumbersome journey that tested her patience at several different intervals. It had taken a brief period of time to rouse the large litter and coax them from the familiarity of the rabbit warren that they had spent their earliest days within, and an even lengthier interval to shepherd the eager flock of bumbling kits across the moorland in the direction of the camp that they were soon to permanently find residence in. The sun, previously nothing more than a faint smudge upon the darkened horizon, was halfway across the sky as Brindlestar finally nudged the last straying kit through the gorse barrier after their littermates.

Rabbitkit, Grousekit, Sandkit, Shellkit, the molly's gaze anxiously skimmed over the various heads of the young kits as she attempted her latest endeavor of keeping track of the kits whereabouts, Ploverkit, Frozenkit, and Sparrowkit. That was all of them, right? It had to be- she had originally set off from the rabbit warren with this amount, so none had ventured off whenever her attention was elsewhere. Would she ever be able to take reprieve from constantly keeping count of this litter?

There was a heaviness within Brindlestar; one that not only weighted at her flesh and bones, but one that burdened both her heart and soul. How was she ever supposed to rear these kits without Dewpool?

OOC: LETS GO BOYS; edited

It was not quite yet clear to Shellkit why she and her several other littermates had to leave the area they had been most familiarized with for their young lifetimes that was the rabbit warren, but she did not question it and simply followed her mother and siblings out of the dip in the ground. Unlike the warren, the surface that she had stepped on was cold and dry and it was like the ground had a pelt of millions of white tiny specks. Sticking her muzzle just barely on the chilly dotted ground, the pale tabby quickly turned back up from the frigid touch, shaking her muzzle ridden of any cold flakes. After the minor event, Shellkit felt her mother lightly nudge her along, starting her journey with her fellow cats. The frosty air did not mix well with her short-furred pelt, but it was not enough to make the kitten shiver, only irritated. Before she knew it, they had arrived at WindClan camp- the place that would be their new den. 

As she was pushed in, the pale tabby she-kit gazed at the hollow camp and all the glory it contained. It was not too different from the moorland she had trekked across, quite similar, actually. It was simply a hollow in the ground with dens, similar to the moor, but the world still seemed so big, and the camp intrigued her. The small she-cat looked up at her only parent with curiosity, pondering where they might venture to next, before redirecting her focus to her less calm littermates in excitement with a small smile, watching them bustle among each other to get deeper in the camp.

The cool, crisp breezes of late leaf-fall almost felt as frigid as those of leaf-bare's to Rabbitkit. It certainly didn't help that his heritage had passed down short, coarse fur that did next to nothing in blocking out the cold from the sensitive skin underneath, or that he had just left the warmth and safety of the only place he knew to call home next to his littermates, snuggled up by his mother's belly for food and protection. He suddenly shuddered all over as a shiver ran through his entire body after a particularly cold breeze whisked past the traveling cats, and his thin, unstable legs weren't prepared for such a distortion of weight being shifted around. He toppled over into the rough dying grass underpaw with a squeak. Well, at least the grass wasn't terribly cold as compared to the bare ground he had fallen against further back after tripping over a rock jutting out of the ground.

His stump of a brown tail flicked back and forth with frustration, which also swelled up in his chest, threatening to burst through his mouth in the form of a moody wail. He hated the outside world! It was cold, and noisy with all that racket up above made by those... oh, what did his mother call them, birbs or something like that? Not to mention the brightness of the sun, the openness of the outside world that he could easily get lost in, the unfamiliar sights and smells that overwhelmed his senses... He just wanted to go back home.

But he wouldn't dare say this out loud. Brindlestar had already told him and his littermates how strong and brave they needed to be to travel with her from their old home to their new home... which she said was actually their real home? That part didn't make sense. Barely any of this made sense! What was so wrong with the place they were all living before? It was safe and warm and snug and comfortable. That was home. This new place their mother was leading them to... wasn't. But he wasn't going to say anything. He needed to be strong and brave, just as Brindlestar wanted him to be. He didn't want to disappoint her by being irritated or scared. With a soft huff, Rabbitkit pushed himself back up to his trembly paws, waddling and stumbling as quickly as he could without falling over again to catch up with his family.

Frozenkit didn't intend to cause her mother grief, but she couldn't resist her nature. The long journey from their warm, safe den wasn't particularly eventful, though, and she had to keep herself entertained somehow. The dark gray she-kit, the only one with her father's pelt color, found focusing on their travels to be difficult and frequently bumped into her littermates by accident. One minute she had found an extra-interesting pebble in the dust, and she paused to swipe at it with her little paw and kick it around the ground for a bit before a waving grass blade stole away her attention. Crouching with her small rump in the air, Frozenkit leaped for the blade and tumbled to the ground, flailing around on her back and waving her kitten claws in the air. She flopped on her side to grab for Rabbitkit's hind foot and attempted to bring it to her mouth to bite own playfully on it. The she-kit stood back on her paws and shook her short pelt out, trying to remove all the dust and dead grass that had stuck to it, but she promptly became distracted by a stray leaf stuck to the underside of her back leg until she was nudged back along the path with the rest of her littermates. And so this pattern continued the entire trip to camp, no doubt creating even more stress than herding seven kits already provided.

It wasn't until they finally reached camp that she paused to actually look at her surroundings, and Frozenkit slipped through the pack of kits to get to the front and get a good look at their destination.

The small she-kit was excited as all get out. Living in the rabbit hole was so fun, and she was excited to find more. She didn't like it though, above ground. She felt oddly vulnerable. And as a tiny kit, it was no surprise. Her natural instincts were telling her of how dangerous this was. Sandkit clung close to Brindlestar's side.

Finally, they reached WindCLan's camp. She was tired from the journey, and yawned a wide yawn as Frozenkit bustled by her. She plopped down, her Bengal pelt damp from sweat and effort. She was still coated in dirt - her favorite thing - and she fought that natural urge to lick it off.

From the moment he was born, Grousekit had only known his mother, his siblings and the familiar embrace of the warren's hollow tunnels. They were enclosed around the kits like a safe protective barrier from the outside world. Grousekit felt safe there. It was where they had always been. It didn't have to change. Except, according to mother it did. She prompted them out of the familiar space, and Grousekit frowned. His little face twisted in a frustrated pout as he tried to turn around. Home was into the dark. Into the safe security of the tunnels.

It was too wide out here. Too open. Grousekit felt a chill from the rolling fields of moorlands. His blue eyes wide as he took in the view, anger at being made to move abandoned as the grass waved in front of him. Tantalising and close. He blinked as a stray piece of grass touched the tip of his little nose, then yowled in delight. Tiny claws extended to face this foe with all the bumbling toppling force the tiny kit could unleash. The piece of grass fell beneath him, and Grousekit purred proudly at himself. He sure showed it!

As his siblings and mother moved on, Grousekit followed. His wide eyes observing the surroundings with an intrisic joy. The embracing light of the sun seemed less glaring now, his tiny little senses adapted as he bumbled along behind until they reached the camp. As Sandkit sat next to their mother, he chirruped and launched a sudden assault on his sister by flopping on her.

There was a slight huff as the old tom carried himself towards the newly arrived kits, his gait disturbed by a limp in his front paw. While his injury was healing nicely, and his new friend Briarpaw assured him there would be no long-term effects, it still pained him to walk. So, rather slowly, he made his way forward, barely pressing his paw to the ground with each step.

Brindlestar had been gone for more moons than he would have liked. In such a short time he was brought to the clan, shoved into their-- what was it called? Oh, medicine den, and the only cat who he had any contact with left him to give birth to her kits. It didn't take him long to warm up to the rest of the cats who greeted him kindly but without Brindlestar's protection, he felt as if he was at the mercy of any naysayers. Now, with her return, he felt the weight of fear fly off his shoulders.

"Brindlestar, you're back!" he purred, a smile on his aged face. "With," his eyes widened as he counted the kittens in front of him, "a lot of young kits..." Plopping himself down, Jude cocked his head at her playful litter. Before coming to the sandy hollow, he had never seen such a young cat. But after spending time with the clanmates during his healing process, the raven-furred tom found he rather enjoyed watching their youthful joy. It almost felt as if he could remember a time when he was running around and scraping his face on the dirt.

"It's been a bit hard without you here, but I'm amazed at how you can all survive so well without owners to protect you. It's honestly inspiring." So inspiring, he debated whether he should attempt it himself.

Changing the subject, he turned to furballs in front of him. "Your kits all look healthy! No troubles getting them up and about I hope?"

Wearily watching the flock of wide-eyed, rambunctious kits maladroit about in their usual manner, Brindlestar only twisted and turned in an attempt to peer at the occasional kit who went flouncing out of her immediate proximity. How would she ever be able to keep up with this many kits with only two eyes in her head? The molly absently reflected, seizing Grousekit by the thick of his nape to haul him away from his sister, hopeful to quell any potential arguments that would inevitably arise from attempting to play whenever they were undeniably exhausted. It would only get worse, as well! Now that they could walk well enough, it's only a matter of time before they started ruffling the fur of every cat from here to the Highstones! Initially only blinking at Jude, the slight simper upon the molly's features was enervating at best. It was quite strange and slightly unnerving to immediately be greeted with the presence of a Kittypet, yet she had learned that the dark-furred tom meant well enough. If his time spent in the presence of her Clan had taught her anything, it was that Jude was currently as harmless as she initially had anticipated. Tail neatly encircling the kits who lingered by her side, the pale-furred molly briefly twisted around to peer at the kits who tumbled about. "Quite a bit indeed," Brindlestar agreed softly, unable to take her eyes of her kits for more than a moment at a time, "It's been a few seasons since I've heard of a such a large litter, even longer since I've set eyes upon one."

Protectively shifting a kit beneath the shelter of her belly, Brindlestar blinked over at Jude once more, carefully watching as the dark-furred tom investigated whatever kit happened to be in his immediate proximity. "They're no more troublesome that any other litters I've encountered, but I'm certain that it'll take several Queens to keep an eye on all of them now that they're able to run." Bending forward slightly to rasp her tongue over the ruffled fur of Sandkit's earthen-flecked head, the pale molly's gaze did not venture forth from the task at paw. "The timing of this was quite unfortunate, but I hope that my Clanmates treated you with the civility that I imposed upon them."

Glancing back up at her mother, Shellkit's pale blue eyes met Brindlestar's similar sky-colored ones for a few moments. The magnificent lighting that the morning sun's reflection caused made the mystic eyes she was gazing at look blended with the sky, and it was at that instant Shellkit knew her favorite color was blue. Her trance was interrupted as the mewling of her littermates caused her to break from the stare, and she was now blankly watching her siblings sort themselves out. The pale tabby blinked once as she felt herself being swept along, closer to her mother's belly now. Realizing the warmth and compact feel she was given was not enough, she calmly pressed herself against her mother's underside, satisfyingly feeling the radiating body heat give her comfort. She almost fell asleep from the tranquility, but Shellkit instead settled for a nice, but awake, rest.

Her eyes now rested on the newcomer in curiosity, now glazing every inch of the cat's pelt in slight suspicion. Finding no apparent threat, she closed her eyes solemnly and laid her head on her small paws.