beneath an oak tree, part ii

[continued from this topic; please forgive the ultimately uncreative title]

The leaf-bare chill was starting to subside, replaced by a less bitter cold, but the height of newleaf and the warmth that followed was still far off. Batbite sat just inside ThunderClan's camp, curling herself around the kit she'd carried all this way, just as she had before she'd brought him here. She'd promised to protect him from harm, and that included the weather. She nudged him gently before lifting her head to look around. "Welcome to ThunderClan."

"Now, if I could just..." She raised her voice, doing her best to shield her small charge from the sudden increase in volume. "Strom!"

(Perhaps there were other voices she ought to have called first. Daisybloom, for instance. But it was Minkstream she thought of, and it was Minkstream she called for, by the name that came so much more easily to her even now. It was a reminder that they had been something else, once - a reminder she chose to cling to.)

The little kit hadn’t protested when the black she-cat picked him up. His tiny paws felt cold without her warmth next to him. His little dark-tipped tail curled in an attempt to hold onto what little he had left. Amber eyes watched the world around him with fear and loneliness. Nothing seemed as soft as the bedding back home. Things stick out in weird places, covered in odd-looking things that the she-cat paid no mind to. He wanted her to mind them, or at least explain them. Wanted to be warm again, surrounded by family.

The tunnel of brambles made his pelt spike up in fear. They seemed sharp and dangerous, like claws that reached out ready to hurt. He closed his eyes, the movement stopped. Cold sank back in. A whimper hung in the air. Little body hunched over white paws. Dark tabby coat matted and still slightly fluffed from his earlier fear. Amber eyes watched other cats around warily. ‘ThunderClan’. There was that weird word again.

This wasn’t home. He lifted his head, white line visible down his jaw, throat and chest. Thin and ragged as the kit felt… but there was something he knew. The sky. He’d seen it once, from the window. His mother said it was over everything, farther than the roof but ever-present. The singular familiar thing in this entire place. He startled when he saw movement, amber eyes wide. The black she-cat was still here… she’d protect him… right?

The chill in the air warned that Leaf-bare wasn't quite done with them, the patches of icy snow lingering in the shade clinging on despite the still-blooming scents of New-leaf that it had briefly covered over. Minkstream's pelt was fluffed against it, the patchy bits of exposed skin on his neck where the healing scars were still drawn burning in the chill, the ache in his head fainter for once. Maybe it was finally going to leave for good. He almost didn't dare feel relief at that, in case it made the thing decide to throb again.

Batbite's voice calling his name broke through the air, making his head rise, ears flicking around before his gaze caught her by the camp's entrance. Lying down. Almost immediately, a hint of alarm flickered to life in his chest before his mind and eyes caught up with him, catching the way she curled as if protecting something, a hint of lighter fur bundled against hers. Is that...? He broke into a lope, resisting the urge to wince as the movement pulled at his aches and beat a new tempo in his head. Slowing, he padded the last couple of tail-lengths, catching a glimpse of wide, milky amber eyes that twitched around to focus on him, confirming his suspicions. "A kit...."

From the looks of him, the little guy was barely a moon old, still fluffy with little rounded ears. "Hey, little guy," He soothed, trying not to alarm the kit as he moved closer. Meeting Bat's eyes as he lowered himself into a sitting crouch, he murmured, "Where'd you find him?" His gaze flicked to the kit again, noticing fluffy white standing out at his throat. "...Was he abandoned?"

Who in the stars would abandon a kit at the tail-end of Leaf-bare? But as he reached forward gently to sniff at the small fluffy pelt, he could pick up a familiar scent that made his whiskers stiffen. Twolegs?

"I was just wandering through the territory, and I heard something. And then I smelled something, and I- well, I can promise you that I at least waited a little before I went to investigate it, because... Well, you know-" (he had been there, the first time, captured by twolegs). "But... There was some strange thing there - most likely a twoleg thing, I couldn't recognize any of it... And... Well. The kit next to it."

She didn't voice any of her theories about how the kit had come to be there, or why. She wasn't sure she wanted the answer. "We'll need to investigate it later, I'm sure, but for now..." Batbite tilted her head, studying her mate with a soft expression. "Well. You already know what I'm going to ask, don't you?"

This kit was oddly familiar - he found his eyes lingering on it a moment before he turned back to Bat, the unpleasant memory of their capture coming back with a faint shiver as she mentioned it. He did know, and really wished he didn't at the same time. Though... if it hadn't happened, would he and Bat be here right now?

But it looked like this twoleg hadn't been trying to take any cats, just dump an innocent kit into the forest - probably to die. He studied the little kit, the milky scent beneath touched with bewilderment - the little guy had to be scared and confused out of his pelt right now. Star-forsaken twolegs... they had to be the cruelest creatures he'd ever encountered, with the strangest motivations. I guess we will need to look into it. Anything to prevent something like their taking happening again, even if his entire pelt crawled at the thought of going near another one of the things again.

He met Bat's green eyes with his own, a slow smile at her question lilting up the side of his maw. "Nettlestar wouldn't object. He's just a kit - barely old enough to walk."

The pounding in his head seemed to ease to a bare shadow, a hint of curiosity sparkling in his eyes as his gaze flicked from the little kit to his mate, the smile turning questioning. "What about a name? You're the expert there."

He had a feeling there was one almost already attached to the kit's pelt - he looked so familiar, there was really only one he could have....

The closer the large orange tabby came to him, the more the kit shrank back into the soft black pelt. She had been comforting and kind… even if it was to take her to this strange place, that smelled weird, looked terrifying and full of cats who looked larger than any he had ever seen besides his mother. A sad squeak, then a small shuffle of his paws. His head lowered to his little heaving chest. The rumbling words spoken above him filtered through his attempt to block it all out.

Twolegs. Yes, it was a twolegs fault. It was his mama’s fault, his siblings fault. Why did none of them come for him? Why did it have to be this strange cat? Why was he here? Where was here? Thunderclan wasn’t home. It didn’t have his soft nest or those little squishy things that they loved to toss and paw at. He shivered a different chill crept up his spine.

‘Maybe I’m just not good enough.’ Amber eyes closed, hid the pain that thought provided him. Was he broken? Did his mother just not have the heart to tell him… and the twoleg decided to just … put him out here? Amber eyes reopened to stare into green ones. It startled him, little dark brown fur puffed out in his surprise.

The new cat didn’t hurt him. He was right in front of him now, but there was nothing but low soft tones… like when his mom spoke to the other kits during nap time. His pelt looked warm… orange and dark brown. It reminded him vaguely of the fire beyond the hard wires. Hesitantly, he reached out a white paw. Warm. This new cat was warm, just like the black one.

Even better, it was soft. The fluffy fur of the new cat’s tail felt warm and safe the way it was curled. Like one of his nests at home. He staggered a couple of little paces to snuggle into the white and orange fur. Pressed against the black cat on one side, and the orange one on the other, he felt truly warm.

"Expert, am I? You've named them too," Batbite purred as the kit cuddled up to Minkstream as well, a quiet laugh slipping out before she could catch it. "I have. You see it too, don't you?"

Under duress, she would admit that she was fairly sentimental - she tended to hide those sentiments behind teasing and games until things got serious, but they were always there. The winding branches of her life had twined with many others, from her siblings to her adoptive father to her mentor, and today she saw a chance to honor them.

"Oakkit," she whispered, and it was a way to honor her mentor, yes, but she was certain he would make the name his own in time (Oakstar had been born a Marshkit, as far as she knew). "May you grow deeper roots than I, and may you never need to run."

(The traveler's curse, of sorts, that kept her wandering to the borders long after she'd settled down; the way one of her own daughters had vanished. She would wish him safety from that life.)

Those big amber eyes stared back at him, a small, white-tipped paw stretching out hesitantly to brush his tail as he spoke, the uncertainty seeming to fade away. And then he tottered up onto his feet and stumbled forward, fluffy tabby and white pelt ending up nestled against his fur.

Of all the things Minkstream had thought the little kit would do, stumbling up and cuddling into his tail between him and Bat wasn't one of them. A dopey, lopsided smile crept up his maw, the surprise fading away to a mrrow of soft laughter a heartbeat behind Bat's as he glanced back up at her, shrugging slightly with a hint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Only the nicknames."

"You see it too, don't you?"

He nodded, the smile softening to gain a hint of melancholy as he glanced back down at the little tom snuggled between them, Bat's whisper breathed over the little pelt. The poor guy probably didn't know what had happened any more than they did, but with that, he was given a name and a place to stay. A perfect name.

He touched his nose gently to the top of Oakkit's head, a whisper running through his mind, almost unbidden as though borne on the rustling leaves of the tree he was named after - the thrum of a heart that had beat for all of ThunderClan. "And Treun," He murmured. "You'll never be alone, our kit."

Hurried pawsteps sounded from the camp's entrance as a figure swiftly made his way over to Batbite, Minkstream, and... who was that kit? Kestrelpaw pondered that question further as he approached carefully yet with a curious aura about him. Hanging loosely from within his jaws was a decently plump mouse- an clear indicator of his prior activities. He was usually absorbed in his tasks until their completion and the only things that could break the focus would be his family. That's exactly what happened this time around.

Kerath hadn't been able to sleep well. Fragmented nightmares plagued him and were the reason he was constantly on high alert. Instead of trying further, he begrudgingly got up and decided on having a stroll to try and clear his muddled mind. Halfway through his return, he'd scented some prey not far from where he stood. It couldn't hurt if he brought back some food with him. He soon set on his task but only got to catching a single mouse before his attention was led away as soon as he spotted the familiar figure of his mother. She'd been carrying something and seemed to be in a hurry back to camp. He couldn't really tell what it was but telling from Batbite's overall demeanor, whatever that thing was, it was important. He allowed her to go a bit further before setting off back to camp behind her. He was intrigued by the mystery bundle and was adamant on finding out what she was bringing back.

So that's what his mother brought back. Where did she find him? What was he doing out there all by himself? Where was his mother? Kesterlpaw had a whole lot of questions that he very much wanted answered but he'd have to wait a bit. Right now, he stood a bit awkwardly to the side as he spectated the scene in front of him unfold. A pang of... something hit his chest as he observed the kit- now named Oakkit- interact with his mother and father. They both seemed to be quite protective of the little fella and that caused Kerath to feel something similar surge within him.

It wasn't too long before the brown and white tabby apprentice stepped forward and let himself be noticed. His gaze flickered from his parents then down to Treun as he approached. When he was a comfortable distance from the three, he placed down his catch and offered them a soft smile. "Mom, dad," he greeted before once again turning his attention to the new arrival, "Hey there, Oakkit. Welcome to the family. My name's Kestrelpaw. I'm also known as Kerath. I hope you'll get comfortable here in ThunderClan cause as your big brother, I won't be letting you out of my sight too often." He gave the tom-kit a grin before he gave him a gentle nudge with a paw.

The apprentice slid his catch over to them with a sheepish expression. "I didn't catch much cause I got... distracted but if any one of you are hungry, it's there for the taking." The tom shuffled his paws as he looked at anywhere but the three in front of him.