Bothersome Child[CLOSED for kj}

The sun was halfway up the sky, shining down directly on the top of Mountainkit's head. The remaining silver strands in her pelt, which were going away a lot faster than her sister's, reflected the light in such a way that the oversized kit almost appeared to sparkle. She yawned, the warm(relative to usual, anyway) rays of the sun making her sleepy. She was too awake for a nap, but too sleepy to play. What to do in such a dilemma? She had no idea; in her limited weeks on the earth, she hadn't yet experienced something like this. She pottered around camp, trying to find something to occupy her.

The other kits were either too young to talk, or asleep. The queens were busy with their kits. Ma had told her that bothering busy people wasn't a nice thing to do, and though she ached to ask them to play with her she held off. Maybe later, if nobody else wanted to talk to her. She yawned again as she blindly left the nursery and trotted into the elders' den, which contained just one elder. She realised a bit late that she had entered the den without noticing. "Oh, hello! How old are you? You must be pretty old if you're an elder. Are you older than my grandma?"

Nighthawk's whiskers twitched in amusement as she watched the kit enter the nursery, carefully uncurling from where she rested in her nest. The cold air made her breath rasp in her throat audibly, and she had to wonder what a kit was doing out in this weather. Really, all the younger cats were foolish to be out in this, but then, as time went on, the elder thought more things were foolish than not.

"Blossomstep is young, yet. You must be Mountainkit, right?" She wasn't as familiar with the kits in the nursery, but 'Mountainkit' seemed about right. Beechface had mentioned her younger siblings had silvery pelts, and one of the two had a stub for a tail. Nighthawk figured she had half a chance getting it right, at least.

"What brings you here, hmm?"

Mountainkit scrunched up her nose. "No way. Grandma has grown-up kits! If she were young she would be littler, and have little baby kits. Like me!" She nodded once, confident in her 'knowledge'. She sat down, figuring she'd make herself comfortable now that she had found someone to talk to. "Yeah, that's me! Ma called me Mountainkit because I'm very big. I think I'll be taller than her when I grow up!"

She scratched absent-mindedly at her ear and yawned a little, displaying tiny kitten teeth. "I'm sleepy but I'm not nap sleepy. I didn't want to play because then I'd be even sleepier and my legs would go all jelly. So I'm here! And I want to talk to someone. The others say that elders tell good stories. Is that true? Are you good at stories?"

"She is younger than I am, little one. Much younger. She might as well still be a kit, to me." As was much of the clan, Nighthawk was beginning to realize. All of her contemporaries were gone, with the exception of Sprucesnow. Most of Skyclan's warriors were several generations younger. It seemed like they were all having kits younger, too. The kit's mother and grandmother being two such. Stars above, Nighthawk wasn't even sure how she'd had the energy for one litter, let alone the multiple litters some of the queens were producing. They weren't even her kits, and she was tired. Just another way she'd become disconnected from her clanmates, it seemed. And that probably said more about Nighthawk's age than she wanted to admit.

A brief flicker of a tired smile crossed her face as the kit explained her name. She and most of her siblings it seemed, had certainly taken after Bloodstrike when it came to height. Poor Primroselight had a valid complaint about feeling like she was small compared to the rest of her family.

"Your father was tall and strong. Most of your siblings have taken after him, and you look like you will, too." What a shame that the kit had never even met her father. Nighthawk hadn't particularly cared for the dark tom, but he was far better than his son as deputy.

"What would you like a story on?" She asked, tail curling around her paws.