Song of the Black Bird [Ravenclaw]

Birdkit stretched sleepily, blinking awake to the dim light of the nursery. Standing carefully, the gray tabby carefully shook out her fur, glancing nervously to her sleeping littermate besides her before creeping slowly towards the entrance of the nursery. Mom must've been out, and grandma was sleeping towards the back of the den. Birdkit had been told not to bother grandma, that she was feeling well or some such. Privately the little she-kit thought it might do her some good to get out and play with the kits more, but she wasn't one to question what she was told. Mom was smart, so what she said about grandma must be true, and therefor she'd give the older queen her space.

Attention turning towards the nursery entrance again, Birdkit made her way toward it with determined, if somewhat unsteady paws. Outside the nursery lay a blanket of white broken up by the pawprints of older cats, and a cacophony of scents that were only half-recognizable to the young kit. Of course, one scent stood out to her, distinctly recognizable, and she turned to follow it hopefully. Mom couldn't have gone far, right?

The black she-cat sat not far from the nursery after all, and Birdkit cheerfully made her way towards her mother, tail waving excitedly as she neared.

"Hi mom!" She chirped, "What are you doing? Shadekit's asleep still, I'm bored!"

Staying in the nursery was torture for Ravenclaw. It was incredibly boring, and the clan treated her as if she couldn't go outside the camp anymore. She couldn't take it, to the point where she tried to stay in the nursery as little as possible. It was bad enough that she couldn't go anywhere, but it was worse that they weren't even her kits. The dreaded secret she and Beechface were hiding from everyone was tearing her apart, but not because they were keeping it a secret. Not even because they were breaking the code. It was because of the kits' father.

She jumped at the high-pitched sound behind her, not expecting anyone to come up to her. Whipping around, she realized that it was only Birdkit. 'Her' kit. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but her stomach roiled uncomfortably as she could see so much of Wrenspring in her. It made her nauseus. "Hello Birdkit," she mewed, trying to keep her raging feelings under wraps. "I was just... taking in the weather." It wasn't a lie, necessarily. She was at least happy to be out of the nursery. It was one positive, she supposed.

Birdkit cheerily padded up to her mother, a purr rumbling in her chest as she somewhat clumsily padded up to Ravenclaw, pressing against the queen's chest. Soft green eyes gazed up at the she-cat, blissfully unaware of her emotional state, the queen's jumpiness going unnoticed by young Birdkit.

"Do warriors really hunt in this stuff? It's so hard to walk in." Of course, that Birdkit was still a kit and nowhere near fully grown couldn't possibly have anything to do with the way her paws sank awkwardly into the snow. One of the queens had made some comment about how good grandma was at hunting in the snow, but Birdkit had hardly seen the dull-furred tortoiseshell leave her nest, let alone hunt. She couldn't imagine anyone having the patience to do anything but walk short distances in the cold white stuff that seemed to be continuously heaped upon the forest.

"When am I going to be made an apprentice? I want to learn to hunt, not sit around the nursery all day." Sitting around camp was boring. It seemed like the adult cats hardly ever wanted to play with the kits, and half the time when Birdkit wanted to do something, the other kits in the nursery were asleep. Becoming an apprentice meant she could leave camp and explore and actually do things. It seemed far more exciting than kithood ever could.

"The snow is of little concern to us when we're hunting in the trees. When you're an apprentice, you'll learn how to snag birds out of the air without having to worry about the ground below." As uncomfortable as she may have felt, it was nice to think about other things involving the clan. Talking about hunting was a nice change of pace from the specter of the Asylum cats, their traitorous deputy, and her kits that weren't really hers. Hunting was a lot more fun than that. "It won't take long before you and your siblings will be apprentices, and then all the prey out there won't stand a chance." She chuckled quietly, gently nudging Birdkit. "It just seems long at your age. When I was a kit, I thought I'd never get to be an apprentice."

"What was it like when you were an apprentice? Wasn't climbing trees scary?" The kit had never been any higher than a short tree stump that wasn't far off. The actual tree branches seemed to be much, much higher. She had to crane her neck to look up at them, even. Birdkit couldn't possibly imagine climbing to such lengths, but surely if mom said it was how Skyclan hunted, then she would, eventually, right?

"I'll be the best hunter Skyclan has ever seen!" She mewed. A big claim, but the kit was sure she could pull it off one day.

"It wasn't scary at all," Ravenclaw boasted, as if she hadn't nearly broken her neck on her first hunting trip. "I did almost fall out of a tree once on my first hunt," she admitted, thinking back on that day with a shudder. "I would've fallen if it wasn't for your... father." She felt a sharp sensation in her heart, draining any good mood right out of her body. Birdkit's father: her real father. And she... She whisked her tail around the snow, trying to shake off the frustrating thoughts. It wouldn't do her any good to keep dwelling on them.