Looking Clear But Never Recognized [C]

Larkkit

Larkkit stayed curled up against his brother. Things had been so quiet since the twolegs invaded and a number of cats were taken away, shoved into strange contraptions, and then taken away. No one knew where they were taken, if they would return, or whatever else. As far as Larkkit was able to know, his father was gone for good, and never coming back. He did not die like their mother had, but his mother was never coming back; so why should he? If he dwelled on the thought for too long, he began to get choked up and a burning formed behind his eyes. So, he didn’t think about it. He still had Rookkit; that was all he needed.

Speaking of, he looked to his brother and rested his chin on top of Rookkit’s head. “Rook. How are you feeling today?”

His brother was about all he could focus on lately. Was his brother feeling alright? Eating? Did he need anything? He knew that his brother was just as independent as he was, but that did not stop Larkkit from quietly worrying about him anyway. There was so little that a kit could control, especially in a situation like this; at least his brother’s happiness was something that Larkkit could try to keep his paws involved with.

Rookkit

Though there was much free time, there was little to do with it. Even if there had been options-- if they had been afforded the same normalities of most kits, to roll around with a ball of moss and go through premature motions of hunting --Rookkit would have chosen to spend their time this way instead. They were sure Larkkit would as well. There was comfort and familiarity in each other that could not be found elsewhere. They had been born motherless, and had recently become fatherless. The pair was all that was left of their little family. Rookkit was, as desperately as they did not want to be, very aware of this fact.

Their mother was not coming back. He was not so bold to say he understood it. It was a big concept, death, and one he struggled to grasp. Permanence was somehow easier. She was not dead, only impermanent. She would not be returning. Father, however, had been lively. He had been attentive. Rookkit had, in their own special way, cared for him deeply. Though it was the wise thing to do, they had fled when he was taken. They did not fault Larkkit for that. It was the wise thing to do. Their brother was smart like that; they both were.

As if he sensed his name through Rookkit's thoughts, Larkkit shifted closer, chin resting gingerly atop his brother's head. The leaner sibling let out a gentle hum of acknowledgement, though they did not stir. "Unwell." The admittance was dry, no note of sadness of shame to it. It was only a statement. "I'm worried, Lark. Do you think Father will come back?" There, they finally moved. The tip of their tail flickered, and they stretched to remove themself from their brother's embrace, instead choosing to sit upright and stare at him through narrowed, unblinking eyes. Their expression was shockingly dull, but there was the barest flicker of emotion in their dim eyes-- concern, distant but genuine.

Larkkit

Larkkit and Rookkit were as in-tune with one another as cats could be. It was a twin thing. He knew that Rookkit was concerned, anxious even, despite the thick wall of passiveness that they wore on their face. Larkkit could not fault their sibling for this concern. Concern was not a word that they could use to describe their own emotions. It was something quieter than that. To have concern was to have confidence that their father was indeed returning, a fact that Larkkit simply could not agree with. Their mother was not coming back, and the circumstances of her erasure was not entirely grasped. Larkkit could not entirely grasp why their father had been taken, and thus it stood to reason that there would be no return from their father either. It was simple logic.

Rookkit, however, seemed to have more hope than that. Even if it was unreasonable, Larkkit did not want to crush what little hope they had. The flicker of emotion behind their stone-like eyes spelled out more than enough for Larkkit to understand how important this singular question was. How could Larkkit be the one to take that small ounce of hope from them? No. He would not be so cruel as to do something like that.

"I think there is a possibility that he will," Larkkit settled on saying. He rose to sit as well, sitting stoicly across from his sibling. "I cannot see the future. But we do not know what happened to him, and thus do not know if he is capable of coming back. He very well could." Was that a good enough reassurance? He hoped so. There was not more that he could say that would not simply be an outright lie, and Larkkit would not lie to his sibling. He continued, "Whatever the outcome is, we will still have one another. No twoleg is going to be taking me away, nor will they be taking you. So no matter what, we will have one another."

Rookkit

Larkkit sat up slowly, hazel eyes focused as he started speaking. Rookkit stared quietly back at him, their large ears flicking. That was the answer they had expected, and more or less what they had settled upon telling themselves; still, it did not make them feel entirely better. But, it was expectable of Lark. It was simple, and it was the truth. A quiet, thoughtful hm vibrated through Rookkit's throat. Softly, "Do you listen to the warriors talk? So certain everyone will come back. Expecting their return like it is an absolute truth." They blinked slowly. Rookkit was not entirely sure where that sentence had been going; likely something fanciful about how they had only seen their father be taken. Taken did not mean dead, and the rest of their Clanmates seemed to parrot that idea, though to more hopeful extremes. Rather than continuing the train of thought, they went quiet, nose scrunching up slightly as they thought.

As their brother continued, Rookkit shifted again closer, leaning together shoulder-to-shoulder. "You say that so certainly. It confuses me." His muzzle scrunched a little tighter until the taut lines of his expression made his eyes narrow until they were nearly closed. "The twolegs are an uncertainty themselves. We did not predict nor ask for them. You cannot predict the future– how do you know more will not come? I do not want them to take you, but then, I did not want them to take Father either. What if you are next? Will your answer change? If you are taken, I know you will come home. You will not leave me." Rookkit paused. His tail had started to sway back and forth, curling through the grass on either side of them. It made him nervous to think about. He did not want Lark to be taken; he did not know what he would do if his brother was. But then, what was he supposed to do? "If you will come home, because I know that you will, why cannot the answer be the same for Father?"

Larkkit

Larkkit listened patiently to Rookkit’s counterargument. Even as Larkkit’s stomach twisted and his heart lashed, wanting to snap at Rookkit about how they are wrong, Larkkit was able to hold their instincts back for the sake of their sibling. There was simply naivety to Rookkit’s beliefs. His thoughts were getting muddled. Larkkit’s, on the other hand, were objective and truthful; he just had to help his sibling understand.

He shook his head. “I am not predicting the return of the twolegs or their actions. But I know for certain that I will not be taken.” He steadied his gaze on his sibling and sat erect like a statue. “Father was taken because he put himself in harm’s way. If he had only grabbed at us and left, then he would still be here. You and I understood that; it was why we were able to run and a twoleg did not so much as reach for us. That is also why I know that I will not be taken in the future. Nor you. We both understand the most efficient way to avoid being entrapped. We do not run headlong into danger, and we do not attempt to fight twolegs as though they are beasts we can take down. Therefore, I will not be taken.”

He continued on still. “Thus, since I will not be taken, whether or not I can return is not something to be considered. Whether Father will return or not is still unknown. I do hope that he will return, but we do not have enough information to know for sure. As you said, it is all uncertainty. Thus I can only reassure that no matter the outcome, be it that Father returns or not, I will be here with you.”

Larkkit nodded. It was a perfectly sound argument. He would never be taken, thus his return did not matter. Father was already taken, thus his return was uncertain. But regardless, Larkkit would always be present with Rookkit. That was all Larkkit needed.

Rookkit

As was custom, Rookkit was quiet while his brother spoke. He did not want to interrupt; in fact, he rather wanted to hear the defense presented to his question. Unblinking, he held Larkkit's steadied gaze. He did want to interrupt, to press questions, but Rookkit was remiss to admit his confusion. It was not that the words didn't make sense, but... there were too many variables to it, weren't there? Large ears folded downwards and thin tail continued to writhe, but the kit otherwise did not move, remaining slightly-propped against the other. Yes, it made sense enough... Father had been taken because he was reckless, while the two of them had the sense to be cautious. That was reasonable. But how could Lark sound so confident in the rest, that he would not be taken? What if the next time twolegs arrived, it was while they were asleep, and they did not have time to flee?

Rookkit fretted. They quietly decided that it was not worth it to argue over. The two of them were here now; that was the important thing.

"I will allow it," they agreed softly, tail finally stilling its restless waving. "Uncertainty is not a thing I like. I wish you had a more concise answer. But that is not your fault." They leaned a little more heavily against Larkkit, as if enjoying the fact he was still present. One day, when Father returned, they would sit between both their family– until then, they would stay as close as they could to the one who remained. Partially affirming it to themselves, they murmured, "Neither of us will be captured. That is good to know. I will follow you if must we run again. We will stay together. Forever. And always."