Light on the Leaves [closed]

Dawnkit sat just outside the nursery. The morning was too young for most cats (especially kits) to be up and about, but Dawnkit was entranced by the scene before her. The sun was slowly rising, bathing the quiet camp with golden light as warriors slowly woke. A breeze rustled the leaves far above, and a single leaf floated down to land in front of the golden molly, who stared at it, mesmerized by the patterns. A gust of wind blew the leaf across the camp. Dawnkit took after it with long leaps, eyes on the twirling leaf. She attempted to mimic its movements, which resulted in an undignified entrance into an unfamiliar den. Slightly dazed, she sat up, shaking her head. Her eyes adjusting to the dark, she backed up a bit. The light silhouetted her against the entrance as she spoke.

“Is this StarClan? I’m Dawnkit, although I’m sure you know that.”

Not what a normal kit would be expected to say. Dawnkit was not a normal kit- normality did not seem to run in her blood.

Even as a warrior, Smokefeather had always been an early riser. Now that she was in the elder's den, that hadn't changed despite the fact that there were no patrols to go on and no apprentices to train. Smokefeather would be lying if she said she didn't miss it, and the long days of nothing to do often left her stewing in her own thoughts.

Primroselight had given birth recently, and just like with Copperfox's kits, she'd been too cowardly to approach the nursery at all. She'd approached Smokefeather not long after looking almost sheepish to tell her the names of her kits... And Smokefeather had felt her fur bristle out of shock more than anything. Dawnkit. And the she-kit even looked like him. She'd kept her distance from the nursery since, struggling to reconcile that this granddaughter of hers wasn't the same kit as her son. That she had Primroselight for a mother. Primroselight, who Smokefeather could only hope wouldn't make the same mistakes she had as a mother.

Her thoughts strayed to recent conversations with Newtpaw and Beechface, ears flicking back in frustration. Dawnkit, Primroselight's daughter, wasn't Dawnhawk. She was young and as far as Smokefeather knew, innocent.

As if summoned, a small shape tumbled into the den, the light from outside haloing around the small, fluffy kit. Still, the flash of light golden fur at the edge of Smokefeather's vision had the elder flinching away, fur bristling on instinct.

She's not Dawnhawk, she's just a kit, Smokefeather told herself. An innocent kit who didn't need to be blamed for the sins of someone she didn't (and would hopefully never) know. Her heart raced of its' own volition anyways.

"Ah no, not starclan, you've found the elder's den." Keeping her voice even was a struggle, one that Smokefeather would have thought she was long past by now. "Come outside, let the others sleep." The space was too small, far too small. Foxfire and Wrenspring curled in their nests was an excuse, but one Smokefeather gladly used as she stood somewhat shakily, limping towards the den entrance. The shakiness was from her ruined balance, the pain in her ruined hind leg. Not panic, not anxiety. Not over a kit that was still hardly more than a scrap of fur.

“Oh.” Dawnkit murmured, face screwed up in concentration. It wouldn’t have made much sense to find StarClan so easily, but it would’ve been nice. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She scrambled out of the den, blinking in the bright light. She took in the tortoiseshell at a glance. She looked worn and tired, and Dawnkit felt another prickle of guilt at having woken her up.

“I’m awfully sorry to have woken you up, erm… what’s your name?” Dawnkit asked. “I don’t really know anyone other than Moma and Stagkit yet. And Dada, of course.” Slightly uncomfortable, Dawnkit shifted her weight around, wishing she really had found a secret entrance to StarClan. Then she wouldn’t have woken up this elder, who certainly deserved her rest.

"Don't apologize, I was already awake." Smokefeather mewed gently. Sleep... hadn't come easy for her recently, but there was little else for her to do besides remain in her nest. It wasn't the kit's fault. Still, looking at the kit made something feel uncomfortably tight in her chest, and just as quickly as she'd wanted to get out of the den, Smokefeather found herself thinking of vanishing back inside and curling up in her nest to stare at the den wall, to look at anything other than the golden-furred kitten in front of her. Instead, Smokefeather focused on a point past Dawnkit's shoulder. It was easier to do that than look at the kit who reminded her far too much of someone else, even if that resemblance was only in appearance and name.

"I'm Smokefeather... Your grandmother." She responded softly. She didn't need to ask for the kit's name, there was only one kit with golden fur like hers in Skyclan, and she'd been told. "It's a bit early for most of the clan to be up, are your mom and sister still asleep?" It was a safe guess that they were, and Smokefeather, as much as she was uncomfortable with the sight of the kit before her, was far more uncomfortable with the thought of a kit alone. Skyclan had lost kits to inattentive queens around camp before, and she didn't want to ever witness something like that again. Especially not to another... family member. Dawnkit was family, she was Primroselight's daughter. Smokefeather had pushed enough family away over the past season, hadn't she?

"Grandma?" Dawnkit looked up at her with joyful eyes. "It's so nice to meet you!!! Moma said we would soon!!! Oh, but don't tell Stag, please, she'd feel left out and that would be bad. I am really really really glad to see you!!! Oh, yes, Moma and Stag are still asleep. I couldn't, though. The dawn is so pretty, I feel like I could just float in it!!! That's my name, you know. Dawnkit. Like a new day! But Stag has nothing to do with dawn, kinda silly names."

She paused to take a breath, and stood up so Grandma wasn't looking past her but at her. Silly Grandma. "Do you know stories? Maybe lots of them? I heard there was this one time the river ATE THE FOREST!!! Tell me a story about that one!!! I mean, please? I am a very good listener." Dawnkit sat in her very best listening pose, ears pricked and eyes wide. Hopfully Grandma wasn't too tired to tell her a story.

((OOC: Dawnkit is adorable and I love her!))

It was like a switch being thrown, the little kit became much more chatty and excited at the revelation of them being family.Her ears twitched, not exactly thrilled by the excitable kit, not really seeing why she was as excited as she was. Her own kits hadn't benn- No, that was a lie. Smokefeather realized with a start that she should have expected as much. She realized that she hadn't interacted with any kits at all in the past several moons. Copperfox had wanted to introduce her to his, and it had never happened. She'd barely been aware of Birdsong and Shadewing and Muddythorn even as they shared the nursery for moons, too wrapped up in her own grief. The last kits she'd truly interacted with beyond simply being in the same area were Mountainkit and Featherkit... And that had been... a while ago. A long while ago. Mountainheart was a warrior now. Birdsong had been given her second apprentice, Muddythorn had become a warrior, then decided to pursue the path of a medicine cat. She didn't recognize any of Skyclan's current apprentices, let alone the queens in the nursery beyond Primroselight.

Hadn't she loved hanging around the nursery and playing with kits at one point? She'd been so involved with the clan once, training apprentices, helping the queens, hunting with her fellow warriors. Now... Now Smokefeather would be hard pressed to recall the names of the newer warriors. How long had she let her grief and anger blind her to everything around her?

"I'll... visit them in the nursery-" Her throat tightened, words sticking painfully, ending in an awkward cough. What was she saying? She hadn't even been able to approach the nursery... And she'd just spoke without thought. Her words were a lie, she was sure of it. Cowardly, is what she was. What she'd always been.

For the first time in what felt like eons, Smokefeather found herself wanting to disagree with the thought.

Dawnkit stood up, and Smokefeather struggled not to flinch at the sudden shock of gold in her vision. Her ears lowered as she shook out her pelt. Pathetic, flinching at the sight of a kit, but the memories of Featherkit's broken body and Dawnhawk's depraved viciousness were forever burned into her mind.

Dawnkit's voice pulled Smokefeather from her thoughts, insistent on being told a story. Smokefeather inhaled, releasing a slow breath. Story time, she could focus on that.

"The flood was before my time, I listened to the elders tell the story when I was a kit." Smokefeather began, "It was newleaf, and it rained a lot. Newleaf always brings rain and storms, and the river ran higher than usual. Far beyond the clan territories, something happened, and the river burst its' banks like the forest has never seen since."

"The clans were swept away, with most cats being washed ashore on a lake far beyond the territories. Some cats managed to make it to Highstones, some say by Starclan's blessing." Smokefeather heavily doubted that anything Starclan had done could be considered a blessing, personally. They had never truly helped the clan in her lifetime, and if anything, she'd grown bitter and jaded enough to think all the ancestors did was laugh in their faces. "Things were chaotic, and the clans had to band together to help each other. The cats on the lake had to deal with twolegs and little shelter as they struggled to regroup and figure out a way home. Meanwhile, the cats at highstones were able to meet with Starclan. They were told to seek out the Tribe, strange cats who made the mountains their home, for help. Those who chose to stay behind encountered dogs, and were chased into the mountains where they reached the Tribe and their fellow clanmates. The Tribe had their own demands of help, however- Sharptooth, a fearsome enemy hunted them mercilessly. The clan cats couldn't leave without Sharptooth being dealt with first."

"Sharptooth arrived as the clans and the Tribe were planning what to do. The clan cats managed to lure it down the mountain, where it encountered the dogs that had been hunting the clan cats. Sharptooth and the dogs battled, and the clan cats were able to return home to a forest wiped clean by the flood."

"The clanmates that had been swept to the lake followed the light of the stars to reach the forest territories again, and were reunited with their clanmates." It had been a long time since Smokefeather had heard the tale as a kit, and she wasn't quite sure she had remembered all the details. It felt... Nice to be able to tell a story to someone, though. It had hopefully kept Dawnkit entertained... And strangely, other thoughts hadn't crossed her mind as she told the tale of the flood.

“That would be awesome! Stag will love it! Thanks so much Grandsmokemafeather!” There was, perhaps, something a little off there, but Dawnkit shrugged it off. If her words got mixed up, she could pull them free like tangled fur to show others who didn’t quite see it. Smokema flinched, and Dawnkit immediately looked over her shoulder. Nothing was there. Of course nothing was there, she was in SkyClan camp, protected by Moma and Dada and Smokema and everyone else. Smokema would protect her if anything came out of the forest and tried to eat her. Unconcerned, Dawnkit plopped down and listened intently to Grandfeather. As she spoke, the tale weaved itself together in front of the kit’s wondering eyes, each individual cat being drawn into the larger story, to make a beautiful, finished thing to wonder at.

“That’s beautiful, Smokema,” she said, awe in her eyes. “You tell awesome stories. Tell me another, please! Pretty please! One with you in it maybe?”

(('Smokema' is cute and I'm so sorry for her moodiness.))

Dawnkit had seemed transfixed by the story, and despite her tumultuous emotions, Smokefeather offered the kit a tight smile as she asked for another story. Smokema, she'd called her... In that moment the scrap of fur almost reminded her of her own kits. She was... innocent, young. And Smokefeather feared that neither of those things would last. Her mind was filled with what-ifs, thoughts that logically didn't make sense but still haunted her.

She was a kit, an innocent kit, Smokefeather reminded herself. She'd done such a good job with raising her own, hadn't she? Maybe it was best if Dawnkit stayed away, for her own good. Smokefeather wanted to be more involved, to pull herself out of the hole she'd dug the past season. She didn't know if she could. Doubt made her reassess.

Stories about her? Smokefeather twitched an ear, suddenly far less comfortable with the idea of telling stories than she had just been. Anything she could think of to tell the kit involved Bloodstrike, and she'd done a decent job at keeping the grizzled deputy out of her thoughts recently. Anything else... No, those weren't stories a kit needed to hear. Dawnkit didn't need that sort of thing placed upon her. She didn't need Smokefeather snapping at her for things she had no part in, either. It was far too late for Tornshadow's opinion of her to change, but she would at least try her hardest to not make the same mistakes again.

"I told you one story, but Wrenspring could tell those stories better than I ever could." Smokefeather mewed gently, "You should ask him whenever he wakes." Her tail twitched, pointing towards the entrance of the elder's den. It was the kindest way she could think of to let the kit down easily.

"Oh, okay, Smokema!" Dawnkit stretched a bit, her kitten fluff giving her a golden halo. She really shouldn't have kept Smokema up so long, she looked tired, like her story had been woven already and she was hanging on with one, last, precarious thread, and giving that thread too sharp a pull would tear her whole story apart, like a spider's web. "Thank you please!" Moma had told her to say please and thank you, so she'd definitely get bonus points for saying please and thank you at the same time!

Dawnkit gave Smokema a quick nuzzle before bouncing off. She'd definitely have to ask Springywren for a story later, but for now she'd go wake up Stag and Moma and they'd play mossball! Or look at leaves and bugs and maybe she'd make friends with one (or maybe Stag would eat it, but that was a distant memory). "If you want to play with us, Smokema, I can find you a beetle!" The kit tripped happily out of sight. She would have a great day today- in fact, Smokema alone made this a great day.

Smokefeather couldn't help the soft smile that crossed her expression at Dawnkit's words. She could see Primroselight in her granddaughters cheerfulness, and despite herself was drawn to it. Seeing anyone truly cheerful these days... It was a rarity. She could only hope that Dawnkit would hold onto that spirit as she matured.

"Go play with your sister." She mewed gently... Then froze as the kit suddenly bounded forward, nuzzling her. Images flickered through Smokefeather's mind, images that were most definitely not of Dawnkit's innocent face.

Just as quickly as it had happened, the kit was scampering off, but Smokefeather hardly seemed to notice as she stumbled to shaky paws, fur fluffing up despite the greenleaf heat. She unsteadily backed towards the elder's den, shaking her head.