Meeting Your Super Cool Uncle

Poppyheart slipped into camp through the thorn barrier with a pair of mice and a lizard each dangling by their tails from his mouth. Today had been a good hunting morning, and it wasn't even sunhigh yet. Tail raised high with pride of yet another successful hunting patrol, the ginger-and-white tom trotted over to the fresh-kill pile to deposit his catches, then sniffed around to find a piece of older fresh-kill for breakfast. Digging up a plump mouse from the bottom, he began making his way over to the mouth of the warriors' den.

A quick meal later, he started to groom his white paws and wash behind his ears when he sensed a cat passing him by. Looking up, he grinned as he recognized his brother approaching the fresh-kill pile, and he assumed he was searching for something to give Thornbriar for breakfast. Raising up onto his paws and giving his spine a good stretch, Poppyheart approached the bluish-gray tom from behind. "Hello, Asterspark! Are you getting breakfast for Thornbriar?" he meowed jovially. His brother's name hadn't been officially changed from Sans from when he had been exiled yet, but he still chose to call him by his Clan name anyway, knowing it would only be a matter of time before Thornbriar changed it back.

Sans looked up at his twin with a large frog dangling from his jaw, and he placed it down at his paws to answer. "Heya, bro. Yeah, I'm gonna give Thorny somethin' t' eat before headin' out on a border patrol. Redwing wants me t' lead Lynxscar and Ravenmist in patrollin' the SkyClan border. Say, Poppy...." he began, offering his brother a rather eager smile. "It's been a couple moons since our kits arrived. Why don'tcha come an' meet 'em?"

Poppyheart's face absolutely lit up like the stars of Silverpelt. "Oh, I would love to meet your kits, brother! I was wondering when you were going to invite me!"

"Heh, sorry, bro, just wanted t' wait 'til they were old enough t' really get t' know ya. Hey, go ahead and bring over a mouse for 'em, too, before we go over. They should really be learning how t' eat fresh-kill at this point."

After taking several moments to pick out the most perfectly plump and juicy mouse for his nieces and nephews to enjoy, Poppyheart followed after Sans with a spring in his step, absolutely thrilled to be finally meeting his brother's very first litter. Once they arrived in the den, the ginger-and-white tom followed his brother into the nursery, watching as Sans deposited the frog at Thornbriar's paws and gave her a brief nuzzle to her shoulder. This really warmed his heart. Sans had spent so much of his life all alone without anyone to love -- romantically, anyway -- and now he has finally found a mate of his own. He was also glad he had finally moved on from Sparkfeather to find someone else to love so that he wouldn't be alone anymore. After all, he couldn't be expected to care for his brother forever!

Placing down the mouse in front of the kits, Poppyheart grinned widely at them, his eyes seeming to sparkle in awe. All the kits looked so adorable! Most of them definitely resembled Thornbriar, but he could still see that a few of them had inherited their father's eyes and pudgy bellies. "Greetings, tiny nieces and nephews! My name is the Great Poppyheart, but you can just call me your super cool Uncle Poppy if you want! I've been waiting for so long to meet you all, and now the day has come! Isn't that exciting?"

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Sparkkit scented her father's return before she saw him squeezing into the nursery, holding a frog in his mouth intended for her mother. She arched her eyes in a friendly manner up at him in greeting, but opened them suddenly at a new scent, one she didn't recognize. Then the vivid ginger-and-white tom pushed his way in. He was so incredibly tall and fluffy ... and loud, too. She narrowed her eyes and folded her ears back as the strange cat who claimed to be their uncle raved on and on enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. Did he just call himself the Great Poppyheart? Their super cool Uncle Poppy? Really? What was so great about a cat shouting little kits' ears off?

Sparkkit offered the tom a rather half-hearted smile, her tail twitching with irritation. Then, she turned to her mother. "Thornbriar, I don't like him. Can you make him go away?" This made Poppyheart take a step back, seeming to look completely stupefied by her unfiltered request.

Warmth surrounded a small black and grey kit. He was snuggled firmly into Thornbriar’s side, practically molded into her pelt as his eyes remained closed. Breaths even with the gentle embrace of sleep as milk settled in his belly and purrs echoed in the nursery.

The sound of dirt, bushes parting to bring in a new cat, the soft rumblings of his father’s voice all went unheard until the yowling of a new stranger woke Nightkit with a start. Blue eyes snapped wide open as he twisted and turned towards the source of the noise. His father was there… with an oddly bright coloured tom. He blinked, then looked at Thornbriar, his siblings and father, before his eyes settled once more on the newcomer.

“Songs, who is this?” He padded forward towards the strange new cat. “Why does he look funny?” He peered down at Poppyheart’s white paws, then up at his red pelt, touching it with a paw as if in disbelief that it was real. “Did he roll in some mud? Oh! Can I try it!” He turned to his father, eyes bright with excitement. “Please papa Songs, can I?”

Flintkit was curled up not far from his siblings, using his fluffy tail as a makeshift pillow...Only to raise his head as his father pushed into the den...Followed by a unfamiliar bright tom - by both his pelt that stood out greatly among the dull hues of his family and the glimmer in his eyes. His voice was loud, causing Flintkit's ears to turn away in an effort to drown it out as he held back a wince. This was their...Uncle? Slowly as the tom's voice died down as he finished his statement, Flintkit gave him the same level look he always wore, before glancing off to the side as his sister spoke of her distaste for the tom. He understood her statement, agreeing much the same way as he had been unprepared for how loud he was.

Nightkit, however, seemed more welcoming to the tom even if he did point out how strange he looked. It was true, Flintkit was only used to the grays and black, he was surprised that cats could seem so...Bright in color. Thornbriar had explained that their dark colors helped them hide in the shadows, but how did Poppyheart do any of that with how warm he looked? "He called himself Poppyheart, Nightkit," Flintkit replied as he pushed himself to his paws - refusing to call the strange tom by any of the weird nicknames he had been using - his tone as neutral as ever as he padded next to his brother. His gaze was focused on the mice that the tom had brought, glancing back at his sister. "He doesn't seem so bad, he did bring us prey," he meowed as he leaned down and snatched one of the mice, heading back to Sparkkit as he settled down next to her and set the mouse between them.

Peculiar eyes bright, Frostkit bravely left the safety Thornbriar's side. "Back off!" She squeaked, her kitten fur rising in terrifyingly threatening clumps. She arched her back and took a half-step forward, ready to leap back towards her mother if this red stranger suddenly attacked.

Her face fell as her siblings rushed past her, and she stomped her foot in frustration. Didn't they know that it was dangerous to talk to strangers?
"Nightkit, stop- you can't trust him! Flintkit, no! Mamaaa! They're not listening to me." The dark-furred molly turned to her mother indignantly, her short tail lashing the ground.