younger and smaller [open]

For Thrushkit, Quailpaw’s ceremony had come with a realization. She liked sleeping next to her siblings and Batbite, though it was a little crowded now, a little too warm as greenleaf’s heat settled in. She liked listening to the other queens’ stories, even if some of them told the same ones so often she could recite bits and pieces of them on cue. None of that would stop her from outgrowing the nursery the same way Quailpaw had. It had to be coming soon; she was the oldest of them, after all. She’d tried, but no matter how appealing the idea of apprenticeship was, having to live all that newness terrified her.

So Thrushkit didn’t think about it. Instead, she’d taken to spending her days outside of the nursery, finding her way in the hustle and bustle of ThunderClan’s camp. The Highrock, especially, could get very loud very fast. But it was quiet today, and Thrushkit had spotted a tiny something scurrying in the shadows nearby. Dropping into a well-practiced but woefully inaccurate hunter’s crouch, she shuffled after the little creature. As she closed in, she noticed the shiny-dark shape in full, complete with six legs and pincers. An ant! One of her paws shot out, hiding the ant from view. She’d done this enough times to know she could (accidentally) squish them, but—maybe there was some way to hold it? As she considered this novel idea, her paw shifted. The ant reappeared. Unperturbed, it continued its march into the curtain of lichen covering the entrance to Oakstar’s den...one of the few corners of camp Thrushkit couldn't explore. ”Oh.” The striped she-cat fell back on her haunches, frowning.

Pinekit sat dutifully in the nursery's entrance, russet tail flicking to and fro as he watched the camp bustle around him. Small and young, the tom found himself pitifully useless in the grand scheme of things. It made his paws itch and his haunches sink. Pinekit wanted to hunt with his dad Harefoot, or maybe even talk about important things with Oakstar. But he was limited by his young age, and suddenly six moons felt like an eternity. If only Ferretnose would let him explore outside the camp for once. Pinekit was sure he'd be able to teach himself some useful skills out in the forest. How hard could hunting be?

His thoughts drifted lazily over the sticky greenleaf wind, bright eyes shifting to a brown tabby she-cat. Thrushkit was older and bigger than Pinekit, and much more closer to becoming an apprentice. The tom narrowed his green eyes in envy as he watched her paw at something small on the ground.  The russet kit stood spryly and shook out his pelt, padding over to his larger denmate. "What is it? A bug? He squeaked, following her gaze to Oakstar's den. The small ant that scuttled over the ground was long gone - already on its way to bigger pastures. Suddenly the idea of speaking with the leader didn't seem so sweet. "Oh..." Pinekit mewed, voice filled with melancholy, imitating Thrushkit's own sound of disappointment. "Maybe there's other ants? Do you wanna find some with me?" A sparkle overtook the young kit's eyes as he gazed up at Thrushkit, gaze tracing the wispy kitten fuzz on her ears as he waited for an answer. Perhaps six moons wasn't that long.

Willowheart padded around the camp, bored out of her mind. She didn’t have an apprentice and she also had finished all of her warrior duties. Now...she just needed to interact with someone... The she-cat’s eyes flashed excitedly as she saw two kits near Oakstar’s den. They were either from Minkstream and Batbite’s litter, or from Harefoot and Ferretnose’s. “Hello, little ones. What are you doing?” The russet-colored kit seemed to be looking at something on the ground.

Nettlefire had noticed, from the spot in which she normally took her brief break, the two kits gazing into her father's den. She stared at them staring, curious (and perhaps vaguely concerned) about what exactly they were staring at, in particular.

"Hello there, young ones," the she-cat said, approaching the kits. "And hello to you as well, Willowheart," Nettlefire added, noticing the young warrior had joined the pair of kits as she herself had been walking over. She turned back to addressing the kits. "Is there something you are looking for?"

Another kit, smaller than her with a short russet pelt, trotted up beside her with a chirp. As he occupied himself with staring through the lichen, Thrushkit frowned. She knew about her denmates—it was impossible to live so close to someone without knowing them a little—but aside from names and faces, they were mysteries to her. By choice, mostly. Having so many siblings meant she didn’t need to seek out strangers for…well, for most things. After a moment’s muzzle-scrunching, the tomkit’s name popped into her head: Pinekit. Armed with this knowledge, she said, ”It’s an ant. It went into Oakstar’s den, though…”

Hardly a breath after she’d explained, Pinekit dangled a thread in front of her. Adventure. Thrushkit’s eyes gleamed. She’d been looking for ants, but a kindred spirit was just as good—and besides, four eyes would almost certainly be better than two. ”Sure!” Her own enthusiasm caught her off guard. She recovered quickly, clambering to her paws with a swish of her tail. ”Where should we start? I didn’t see any in the nur—“

The excitement in her voice died away. A pair of older cats were approaching them: one a bright-eyed, pale-furred warrior, the other a scarred gray tabby Thrushkit most often saw from under the Highrock. Thrushkit ran through the rules in her head, relaxing just a bit when she decided she hadn’t broken any. There weren’t many warriors she felt truly at ease around (weren’t any, if parents didn’t count); even talking to the other queens got a little uncomfortable at times. ”Ants,” she said, quiet once more. ”We’re looking for ants.”

A large smile grew on Pinekit's maw at Thrushkit's enthusiastic response, his green eyes sparkling. The she-cat looked a bit shy - or at least Pinekit thought. Still, he was glad that she had agreed to find ants with him. The tom didn't have any siblings his age - his sisters having journeyed to StarClan when they were born. He was often a little bored, feeling like some kind of useless add-on to camp. But his tail hung high in the sky at the thought of a kit to play with. Thrushkit inquired about where to start, but her voice quickly faltered as two warriors made their way over to the pair of kittens.

"'Ello!" Pinekit mewed cheerfully, his green gaze drifting over to Thrushkit as she became quiet. Was she scared of the older she-cats? Or maybe it was because Nettlefire was deputy? Pinekit had often seen the silver tabby talking with Oakstar and some of the senior warriors, like his mum Ferretnose and his dad Harefoot. She must be important, and the warrior next to her probably was too. Hunting and fighting for the clan. It made Pinekit a little frustrated that he wasn't allowed to do the same. Surely if someone would let him out of camp, he'd be just as special as the warriors before him. He felt a little silly catching ants now, when warriors could do useful things, but he wasn't about to let it dampen his mood. "Yeah, we were looking for ants." Pinekit echoed Thrushkit's mew. "That's what kits do."

Voices were outside of his den. He heard them between himself and the lichen, which shielded him from the sun on the hot green leaf day. His legs sore from an earlier patrol. He listened in silence for a moment, and his heart ached. Batbite’s kits… a smile grew on his muzzle. If ever there was anything that could bring joy to the old tom’s heart… it was kits.

He stood, stretched his tired old body. His brown pelt has filled out a little since his last bout of sickness, since the battle that had rendered him sad and lost. He had a purpose with them. With all the cats of his clan to guide and protect them, even without the stars at his side. The lichens parted when he thrust his head through. Amber eyes winced against the bright sunlight before he pushed his way out completely.

"An ant in my den hm?" He rumbled. His gaze lighted to see both Willowheart and Nettlefire there as well. A spark of old humour in his eyes when he looked back down at Pinekit and Thrushkit. The name reminded him of his old Shadowclan leader, and for a moment, he wondered if the kit would also become great someday. "Oh dear. Sounds like we need a couple brave strong kits to go in and find it."