under the stretching sky [closed]

Underneath the star-speckled horizons was the reflective surface of the lake. It picked up on every gleaming Starclan warrior, whose watchful eyes never strayed from guarding the clans. For some reason, Littlekit was struggling to sleep that night. Normally, he tucked away into his nest and would drift off in to fanciful visions of what it would be like to be a warrior someday. But tonight, his mind was restless. There was no queen for him to call his own and so slipping from the makeshift den was an easy endeavor. Silvered slivers of moonlight darted past the stray clouds and dotted his pelt. The night air was crisp and inviting.

Littlekit fluffed out his coat to stave off the occasional breezes. Although he wasn't too scared of the sickness, the kit didn't want to catch greencough. Surely the medicine cats would be cross if he gave them another cat to use their herbs on. Pushing away that though, he trotted to the edge of the clearing. His nose nudged at part of the haphazardly build wall. Cats kept saying overtime it would become a strong boundary, a true wall for their home. He couldn't wait to see it. For now, he spent time putting loose strands back into their place. A moment passed and he heard the faintest sound. The tom-kit looked up to see the shape of another cat.

What if it was a warrior coming to scold him for being up so late? Larkspring would certainly be cross. Littlekit ducked his head in embarrassment before glancing up. Relief washed over him as he recognized the pelt of the older cat. It was Cindersky! Despite never spending much time with her, he watched the clan enough to know she was a good-natured cat. He chirped her name in greeting, "Hi, Cindersky!"

"Couldn't sleep." He ducked his head slightly in a shrug. It was obvious the way that the warrior kept a safe distance away. Littlekit was more than used to it at this point in his life, having grown with cats straying further away from each other in an effort to prevent the sickness from spreading. The tom-kit knew how dangerous it could be, in a very real way that had impacted him since early kithood. But he had never strayed away from it or been afraid. Maybe that wasn't the brightest reaction yet something had become so familiar about this being their way of life. It was simply all he had ever known.

Every so often, he had a vague recollection of snuggling up warmly at the belly of much larger cat. That peace and safety was something that had not been mimicked since the short while after his birth. Littlekit missed that, longed for that. While he hadn't thought about it in a while, it was something that nagged at his mind now as he looked up at Cindersky. Had his mother been as sweet and brave as this warrior? His tiny, needle-sharp claws kneaded the ground. After a moment, he found himself asking, "Do warriors have trouble sleeping sometimes, too?"

I will keep you company. His ear flicked and a purr rumbled in his chest. The thought of having a companion made this cold and dark night seem much less lonely. However, Littlekit fretted that she might have warrior duties. Sandyshell likely wouldn't let any cat be out hunting, which brought some level of relief. As she coughed, the thought was confirmed. How could a cat who could hardly breathe be able to stray far from camp? Although he hardly flinched at the sound, his chest tightened with worry. All the sick cats seemed miserable despite their best efforts to stay positive. Hopefully medicine cats would find the cure soon and for the first time in his life, they would be able to beat the sickness.

A sigh of relief left the little tom's maw at her admission. He wasn't alone in having a restless mind, fretting about the world and things out of his paws. As she spoke of nightmares, it occurred to Littlekit that perhaps older cats heads even swam with more thoughts. He had always assumed they were too busy to think about all the things he did. Although, his mind was mostly filled with worries about all of them anyways. The world was too big to ponder sometimes and that was an exhausting thought.

"I think its because my nest is so cold." Littlekit said after a pause, "Maybe it will get better when I'm older and in the apprentice's den. I dunno... what do you do when you can't sleep?" The edge of the kit's voice was tinged with weariness, lacking his usual chipper tone while still maintaining a friendly disposition. Having the company of another cat was always a welcome thing, he cherished moments like these, even if they were brought about by restless nights.

Littlekit's eyes widened as she spoke and he found himself muttering incredulously, "Larkspring has friends?" The words weren't meant to be an insult and the genuine shock that edged into the nearly inaudible question portrayed that. Having encountered the grumpy warrior before, the kit had decided that for as much as he liked being around other cats, not every cat was the same way. Larkspring had taught him something new in that regard. Cindersky continued on and he blinked to refocus.

As she mentioned stories, his ear flicked. He briefly closed his eyes and smiled as he pictured Riverclan territory. Kitespring had told him all about it. Even though the kit couldn't remember anything prior to their new, hopefully temporary, home, the true Riverclan territory sounded like such a beautiful place. Littlekit had dreamed about the river on more than one occasion. One day he wanted to pluck a fish from the rushing waters. Contently, he smiled before looking back up at the warrior.

"I'm going to think about the territory. Our real territory. Kitespring told me all about it. And when we're back I'm going to catch every fish I can find." For a moment, the weariness seemed to fade into determination. It was quickly interrupted as a yawn left his maw. Cindersky's offer caused a warmth to blossom in his chest. Knowing another cat was looking out for him felt very special to the little cat. All of the clan had cared for and supported him the best they could without being his parents. But at the end of the day, his nest had still been empty, and his mind restless.

"I'm not scared of getting sick..." He mumbled, frowning slightly as his gaze shifted to his paws. The kit suddenly looked forlorn. A thought had popped into his head but was dashed away as mentioned her affliction. Littlekit had been admiring how soft the warrior's fur looked, wondering if it was like that of a long-forgotten mother. Tiny claws worked at the earth anxiously. For such a tiny creature, he was full of love. And for the first time, he considered how truly unfair this sickness was. His stomach churned in disdain, willing every cat to heal in an instant and longing for Starclan to hear this silent plea.

"I just wish I could snuggle with you."

Littlekit had tucked his paws underneath him, leaning into the shelter of the sparse camp wall. Although pressing up against the chill-touched barrier briefly caused his fur to stand on end, it quickly settled as his own heat seeped into the materials. He was a tad more sheltered from the cool night air and in the presence of Cindersky felt more at ease. Something about her, whether it was the natural warmth of her course words, or the kind gleam behind her gaze... it made the kit comfortable. His eyes became half-lidded as he finally began to realize how truly tired he was.

He closed his eyes as she spoke about her hunting experience. Despite never having seen a goose before, he pictured it like a giant sparrow, black and white like Larkspring. Warriors liked to share the tales of their adventures with kits, something he was constantly grateful for. Littlekit imagined what it would be like to fish alongside the warrior and Perchstar. A dreamy smile touched his maw, allowing his worries to melt away for a moment. Slumping into the wall further, he sighed, "I'm going to catch you a fish someday."

As she spoke, he hardly noticed the quiver in her voice as his mind drifted away. Cindersky had provided him with the best sleep advice and company on this peaceful night. What once had been wrought with worry and restlessness was now replaced with a semblance of kinship. He was still learning the world around him and what life meant but it was almost an innate feeling the way he understood her. His head tipped to the side and slid down onto his paws. The warrior's words rung in his ears as he drifted to sleep. As a last thought, he reminisced on how his mother had cared for him, pulling away to protect him from the deadly thing that ended up taking her life away far too soon. It was little more than a hazy memory, shapes and sensations.

"...momma." And then the only sound was his soft, contented breathing.