Snow Day

Firkit had slept long and deep, slowly awaking in the snug quiet as playful squeals drifted in from outside. She scrubbed a forepaw over her eyes, blinked, and rolled over to nudge Thistlekit gently awake with her nose.

The world was a blaze of white, clouds above and snow below. Firkit searched out Birdkit, Shadekit, Birchkit, and Muddykit chasing after a ball of moss— but her eyes quickly flicked upwards as tiny fluffy white flakes began to fall from the clouds. She stuck out her tongue to catch them, whiskers twitching in delight as they landed and melted.

It couldn’t last long enough! When it stopped Firkit shook the flakes from her fur in hopes of sending more into the air, spinning and leaping clumsily with her tongue poked out to try to catch some. 

She didn’t catch a single one! Eyes searching again, she noticed little piles of snow that had collected over the past days and dashed for the closest one. “C’mon!” she called to Thistlekit over her shoulder, sending up a flurry as she scattered the snow pile.

SkyClan camp didn’t have much foliage for snow to collect under, because of something called a fire, but the clearing was edged with jagged stone and soon Firkit was finding white drifts everywhere. She’d spot one and crouch, wiggling with excitement as she prepared to stalk the snow… a happy squeal escaping her as she pounced.

Thistlekit slowly awoke as he felt the gentle prod of Firkit's nose. Rising to all four of his legs, he shook the sleep off, and clumsily scratched at his ears. They perked up, hearing the playful squeals from outside.

Following Firkit, he watched with interest as she spun wildly in an attempt to catch a snowflake. He started towards a pile of snow and tentatively tapped his paw against it. Hearing a small yet satisfying crunch, he put his full weight on it. The pile of snow fell beneath his paws and Thistlekit's ears perked up excitedly.

Thistlekit heard Firkit's call and bounded towards the piles of snow. He deftly belly-flopped into the snow, sending it into the air, and began to roll around in it. This gave him an idea...

As Firkit was occupied with pouncing into the snow, perhaps Thistlekit would be able to play a trick on her...
Finding a large snow pile nearby, he carefully shuffled into it, doing his best to keep the shape of the pile intact. Once inside, he moved around slightly so the snow would fall on top of him, so as to not betray his sneaky position.

Carefully hidden in the snow pile, he listened and waited for his sister to approach...

Beechface had stepped out of the medicine den after a morning of sorting herbs, gingerly stretching in the weak leafbare sunlight. The scars stretching from the top of her head to the base of her tail were starting to hurt a bit less so long as Beechface was careful, but she doubted even her long fur would truly cover them once she was fully healed. The scars that had ripped her chin and belly open hurt a bit more, but they were nothing compared to thoughts of the kits in the clan. Featherkit's death haunted her sleep and hung like a shadow over the nursery, making all of the queens more wary, more protective of the clan's most innocent members.

It seemed all of the kits were out and about today. Birdkit, Birchkit, Shadekit and Muddykit were all chasing each other, delighted squeals of laughter filling the otherwise dull camp. Firkit and Thistlekit were playing together not far off. It felt strange to see all the kits so happy when their older clanmates were tense, eyes flickering to the unwelcome shadows that skulked around camp. One of those shadows had killed a kit, and Beechface had taken up the rest of the clan's sudden surge of protectiveness over the youngsters. She couldn't allow that to happen ever again. The desire to protect and care for Ravenclaw's kits as if they were her own was overwhelming. Every time they were around, the medicine cat's eyes were drawn to them more often than not. She worried over them, and if that worry had translated into stern countenance, would any cat blame her?

Yeah, she had no more interest in the kits playing than she would have had for any other kits. They were Ravenclaw's kits, they were kin and nothing more. Kin just as Muddykit was. At least, that was what Beechface kept mentally repeating to herself. Thistlekit's tabby and white pelt wasn't reminiscent of her own pelt at all. It wasn't.

...And she was a fool if she expected the clan to blindly believe that. Sooner or later someone would figure out the truth, right? None of the kits resembled Ravenclaw particularly closely, and even the shortest-furred one had more fluff than she or Wrenspring did. Their grandmother's silky fur ran strong in her descendants, but the kits did not inherit that from Ravenclaw.

Her paws drifted idly towards Thistlekit and Firkit as the siblings played together, and by the time Beechface had realized, they'd likely spotted her. With a sigh, the medicine cat struggled to clear her expression and sat. She was simply watching over them as they played, nothing more. She mewed a quiet, gruff greeting, hopefully a signal to the kits that they should continue playing with each other rather than turn their attention to her. Beechface didn't think she'd survive her own awkwardness if they approached.

Firkit fixed her kitten-blue eyes on a snow pile. She was so used to the watchful Asylum at the edge of her awareness she hadn’t taken notice it was Beechface.

This snow pile was a big one! Excitement made her paws restless and she didn’t notice the tips of Thistlekit’s tufted ears sticking up in the snow. Her little paws went crunch-crunch-crunch and she leapt headlong into the drift, her happy squeal turning to surprise as she collided with her brother in a tangle of limbs and tails, snowflakes flying.

“You’re sneakier than a ShadowClanner!” She purred hard with laughter, paws poking playfully and ticklishly at Thistlekit’s exposed belly.

Firkit prodded at Thistlekit's belly, and Thistlekit let out a laugh, pouncing to his feet to reciprocate the attack. Instead, Thistlekit noticed Beechface sitting nearby and began to approach.

He'd never met the medicine cat, but had seen her around before. The two looked similar - but then, how could they not. She was his aunt, after all.

Thistlekit thought he saw Beechface's expression change as he approached. Probably nothing. Adults were always making weird faces at him anyway.

Thistlekit hadn't seen his mum all day, and wanted to play in the snow with her. He had heard she went hunting. She probably wouldn't be back yet, but it wouldn't hurt to ask Beechface.

"Hello", said Thistlekit. "Would you know where my mum is? I want to play in the snow with her."

A soft laugh escaped her at Thistlekit and Firkit's antics, a tired smile flickering across the medicine cat's expression.

About the same time she was noticed. Beechface forced her expression to remain neutral rather than allow herself to show discomfort. They were kits, no harm would come from them.

So why did she feel like her paw was trapped in the jaws of a fox, suddenly?

She should have stayed in her den. Of course Thistlekit would have to approach her. Her only son, the kit who had the most resemblance to her, at least in pelt color. For a moment Beechface fumbled for words- his mother was sitting right in front of him, and the kit didn't even know, shameful, shameful. They deserved to know the truth, but...

"I think she went out to stretch her legs for a bit." She mewed finally. Should she... offer to play with them? Stars, Beechface was... beginning to realize that she had no idea what she was doing. When it came to the kits, she was in over her head.

Especially with these kits.