Hunger Pains [O]

Whisperkit tried to ignore the pains in their belly as they laid down for a nap, but after an hour, the only thing that changed was how dizzy they felt from it. The pain had moved from just being located in their stomach to now in their head as well, offering them a bad headache. The harsh leafbare had proven to make it quite difficult for the clan to provide enough food for everyone. Whisperkit knew that there were other cats in the clan that were faring worse than him; after all, the kits were always the ones that were fed first.

They pushed themself to their feet and moved out of the nursery. A harsh wind blew through the camp and Whisperkit anxiously turned their ears to listen. No words could be found in this howling wind. This was simply nature bearing down on the poor clan.

They arrived at the fresh kill pile and sniffed around, but there was nothing to be found. Food had been eaten the night before and the warriors and apprentices who had left to hunt prey had not yet returned. Whisperkit's stomach rumbled painfully again and he laid down on the ground beside the empty pile, not yet wanting to crawl back to the nursery. Their eyes instead scanned the camp, observing the other cats that lingered.

Mistysky had not been assigned to a hunting patrol, having been on the dawn patrol instead, she had been granted the time to rest. But the sight of a little white ball of fur made her wish she at least had something. For a moment, she thought of going into the medicine den, giving the kit something to relieve his hunger, but she decided against it. She might have been given them going to the moonstone, but she wouldn't be able to tell what those herbs looked like now. She should have paid more attention to everything the medicine cats had given her. She could have put that knowledge to good use just then.

Instead, the tabby made her way over to the kit. She felt a little awkward, sitting beside the kit and not even being able to help. She was getting put into these situations a bit too much, lately. "Hey, scrap. I know you're hungry, the patrols should be back soon. And you can even have my share of the prey, k? I ain't that hungry anyway. Why don't ya head back to the nursery while ya wait? Bit too cold out here for a thing like you, wouldn't you agree?"

Coyotepaw was feeling the hunger just as everyone else in the clan did. She was pretty skinny, even for a WindClan cat, yet, being born right before Leaf Bare, she didn't know much else. At least, hunting was a stress relief and almost no cat complained when she said she was off to hunt. Most days, she just ended up running. It made her skinnier, hungrier, but it was okay. Because she was one with the wind. More and more, it felt as if she was becoming one with the bitter cold... It chilled her heart just as much as her body.

But. Today was different. A quail. A skinny one, but a quail either way. She carried it to camp, the body dragging in the snow. A kit sat by the pile, the poor thing. So hungry-looking. Quiet. Coyotepaw made it to the pile and dropped the bird in front of the kit, nodding to Mistysky. "Are you hungry?" She nudged the bird closer to the kit with her paw. "I'll join you. I haven't eaten since the night before last." There should be more than... enough, by recent standards... for the both of them. But she'd watch the kit and make sure she was getting her fill.

Whisperkit pushed themself back up into sitting when Mistysky approached. They lowered their head in a respectful greeting and hoped the wince didn't show on their face as blood pounded in their skull. "I like being outdoors. The wind is nice," Whisperkit mewed softly. But they knew that Mistysky had a point. It was very cold, and even after the few minutes he had been lying there, his body felt chilled.

At the offer of her food, Whisperkit looked at the warrior with large eyes. "Are you sure?" they asked uncertainly. They were hungry, yes, but the thought of someone else going hungry because of them made guilt creep up from deep within. "I'm sure I'll be fine, you don't have to-"

They paused when another cat, this one a younger apprentice, joined the conversation. Whisperkit's gaze zeroed in on the quail immediately and their stomach rumbled simply from the presence of the prey. They listened to Coyotepaw and felt relief seep in. They didn't feel quite as bad at this offer, since they would be sharing it. And as Mistysky said, the hunters would return soon, hopefully with more bounty for the clan.

"Thank you," Whisperkit said to the apprentice. They bent down and took a couple bites from the bird, being careful to try and leave enough for Coyotepaw as well before they sat up again and licked their lips. They were still hungry, but this would satiate them enough until the next round of prey was brought back. And this way, Mistysky wouldn't have to go hungry either.

"I don't believe I've actually met either of you," they said, looking between both cats. "I'm Whisperkit."

"Don't you worry about me, kit. I'll live. Scrap like you fixin to need more food than me anyway." Of course, she was saved from the sacrifice she probably would have regretted when an apprentice came along. Skinny scrap herself. Mistysky knew she probably looked pretty skinny as well, she could feel the throb of hunger as well as any cat. But she didn't have no heart to complain. She ain't the only one sufferin', and she wasn't all that selfish.

The kit spoke up again, this time with a name. Whisperkit. Seemed fittin', felt like any cat could walk right over him. "Mistysky. Where are your parents, kit? Ain't they been feedin' ya? I don't like seein' ya out here on your own. It ain't right. You're too young fo' that."

Luckily, the kit accepted the offer of the prey. As she ate the meager meal, she carefully pulled aside the feathers from the quail. A small pile and then a bigger pile. The small one would be for this kit, Whisperkit, apparently. The bigger pile would be for her nest and Hawkpaw's. Waste not, want not. They would help keep their nests warm in the chilly nights. Her mind wandered to Hawkpaw. He must be so warm with that big, fluffy coat... But uh... Whisperkit. Yes, not Hawkpaw.

"My name's Coyotepaw. I'm not around camp much. I have to make Goldenstar proud somehow." She motioned to the quail with her paw, indicating that she was referring to hunting as her form of approval-seeking behavior. "And Mistysky is right, it's a cold day. Do you want these feathers for your mother's nest? It'll keep it a little warmer. I can help you set it up if you'd like." Look at her, the ever-so-charitable leader's daughter. Genuinely, though, it didn't bother her. But she felt like it should.

Whisperkit grasped one of the feathers from their smaller pile in between their tiny pads and watched as it waved and danced in the slight breeze. They listened to the older cats speak, but their gaze looked faraway, like they weren't listening at all.

However, they still answered the questions posed by the cats. "They're gone," they replied simply. Whisperkit didn't know enough of the details to supply an explanation for the other cats. They knew their father had died in battle, and that their other had been cast out. For what reason, they did not know. "I'm being looked after by the other queens, but they're busy with everyone in the nursery."

They pressed the feather down to the ground, letting it struggle under their tight grip. Whisperkit wondered not for the first time what they had been like. Maybe their mother was as kind as Mistysky, willing to give a kit her food. And maybe their father was as hard-working as Coyotepaw, leaving the camp constantly to hunt for prey.

A harsher breeze blew through the camp--luckily not in the correct direction to completely obliterate Coyotepaw's neat feather piles--and Whisperkit's large ears turned towards the wind; no, still nothing. Just the cold that pinched at their leathery ears.

"It is rather cold," Whisperkit finally agreed. The cold was starting to bite through their thin fur now that they didn't have their agonizing hunger to focus on. They bowed their head to both of the other cats. "Thank you for your concern for me. I'm lucky to have such kind cats to look out for me."

Mistysky inhaled as the kit spoke. Why did she always get herself into these situations? What happened to all the fighting, all the excitement? What was she now, some nursery queen? No, she took care of Batsong when she lost her parents, she was not going to do this again. She had other things to worry about, instead of kitsitting all day. She refused to give in.

And yet she couldn't bring herself to turn the kit away. The scrap looked sad enough as it was. The small tabby groaned as she contemplated her choices, the turmoil inside of her giving her a headache. She could get the kit in a nest now, she decided, and deal with the rest later. Helping the scrap now didn't mean she had to commit to anything. Stars, she was still young herself, she shouldn't even have to make that choice yet, but here she was.

"Alright, scrap, now that you're good and filled up, why don't we get ya into a nest, k? Don't need ya freezin' to death on us. I'll help with them feathers for ya." Grabbing some feathers from the bigger pile, she was not about to let Coyotepaw keep all those for herself (since she didn't know it was for two cats anyway), she made her way over to the nursery. Her head was low as she walked, the tabby still grumbling internally on how she got sucked into this. She should have just left well enough alone.

Coyotepaw mused to herself as Whisperkit spoke. Now, she hadn't heard of any cat being exiled, but who knew? Stories only grew and grew, and it wasn't her place to tell the kit they were wrong. She nodded in agreement with Mistysky, indicating she agreed about getting the kit to their nest. She watched as the warrior grabbed the feathers from her and Hawkpaw's pile, twitching her whiskers and saying nothing. It hurt her feelings, honestly, and she glanced over to her and Hawkpaw's nests. She had worked so hard to gather these, specifically hunting for quail for that reason. Here it was, her kindness repaying her. She sighed internally as she stood back up. It was for a kit, in the end, not Mistysky herself. Quickly, she picked up the remaining pile of hers and stashed it in her nest to get situated later and then rejoined Whisperkit. "Alright, let's follow Mistysky and get you situated and warm for the night." Coyotepaw paused, then lean down close and whispered softly in the kit's ear. "Maybe, if you don't tell anyone, if you get too cold you can sneak into my nest at night if you need company." With that, she picked up the remaining feathers and headed to the nursery, glancing back and flicking her tail in invitation.

Whisperkit gave Coyotepaw a grateful smile as they stood to their feet. Now that they were moving, they felt just how cold their body had gotten.

They slipped the feather taken from the pile into a part of their fur and trotted behind the two older cats. They still had the feather that Rosepaw had given them, and while they were about to get quite a number of feathers for the nest, they would keep this one separate as a reminder of Coyotepaw's kindness. They wondered how they had gotten so lucky so as to have been born into a clan with such kind cats.

Rosepaw came back from her first training a little battered and bruised, returning early without any prey. A cruel wind had picked up as apprentice and mentor turned back for camp, howling through their valley. She didn't want Batsong to feel bad, and kept her tail from trailing on the ground and her ears upright. But a genuine smile lightened her face when she saw Whisperkit with their new friends. She flew from Batsong's side and bounded up, "Whisperkit!" she meowed to them happily. 

"Hi Coyotepaw," she greeted her new denmate a tiny bit shyly. She tried a respectful nod to the warrior,  "Mistysky," entirely ruined by her grin. Her belly rumbled when her eye caught the remains of the quail and she hid the sound with an overly loud purr as she took in her friend. They looked as cold and hungry as everyone else ever did, but happy. Rosepaw noticed the quail feather slipped into Whisperkit's fur and her warm eyes twinkled. If Whisperkit had a feather for every time they made new friends, soon they would be covered in feathers, could a cat fly if they had feathers? Maybe they could fly! Rosepaw wasn't sure. 

She swiped up a few last feathers fallen on the snowy ground and gave them to Whisperkit before they followed the other two cats inside.