Post by ♏aple♢ on Nov 27, 2015 18:09:50 GMT
The sour tang of illness assailed Wolfkit's senses as he slipped through the entrance of the Medicine Den. It made him gag. It made his breathing quicken- which really, didn't help much of anything. So he tried to hold his nose. And his mouth. And he tried not to look at the cats lined like mice on the fresh-kill pile on the leftmost side of that den. He kept his eyes low and trained on his paws- still creek wet- and tried to make himself small. He wasn't in here to be seen, or to talk. Quite the opposite. He was here to become invisible.
Adderkit and Stormkit were looking for him again. They wanted him to climb the tree on the edge of camp and get the bird eggs, but Wolfkit wasn't as big as them yet. He didn't know how to climb. He was scared that the bird would hurt him, and that he would get called a baby again. He'd tried once- he really had! But he'd gotten maybe... A grownup tail-length from the ground before falling down. And Pantherkit hadn't even been playing with them- she was with Cedarpaw! But she'd laughed. And Wolfkit's ears had burned. And his eyes had burned. And then, like always, his chest had burned.
Why did they make his heart hurt so much?
He'd started coughing, and had said that he was going to Eveningblaze's den. They'd rolled their eyes. Or, at least Stormkit had. He could never tell with Adderkit. But looking at their faces for too long when he messed up made him feel bad. especially their eyes.
Wolfkit didn't have Daddy's eyes, and everyone said he didn't have Scorpionstorm's either.
The coughing hadn't been real- not that time. It usually was real, and lots of times Petalfrost would have to walk him to see Eveningblaze he was coughin so hard. He would eat some yucky herbs and stay there for a while- but one never got used to the feeling of death that hung there. He would usually leave after a little while. But this time, yeah, the coughing was fake. He had used it as an excuse. An excuse not to see his brother and sister laughing at him for being small, or grey, or blue-eyed like a stupid baby. He didn't want Adderkit to call him a quitter or Stormkit to call him little. The scent of this den may have made him gag- it might have made him scared and it might have made his fur prickle, but cats weren't allowed in here anymore. He could be alone here- mostly, anyways. Even if only for a few minutes.
Wolfkit settled into his usual spot. A small patch of moss, just adjacent to the den wall. On the uh.. opposite side, from the really sick cats. He was just pretending. He was just a guest. So he sat in the guest nest, which day by day, was becoming less and less used. Daddy was gone from the den, now. He stayed in his big den under the rock. Sometimes Wolfkit liked to sneak out of the nursery and crawl into his nest, but the medicine den felt empty without him here. Wolfkit looked around.
There were fewer sick cats now. It took a bit of bravery to actually look at them. He hardly knew their names. They'd been here... since before he'd been born.
There was the golden she-cat. Her name was Honeyheart, cats said. She was strong, and she hung on. She was Patchpaw's mama, he knew that. And he knew that she had been the leader before Daddy. She probably hadn't always looked like this, with blood caked around her nose and ears, the smell of vomit clinging stubbornly to her messed fur. Wolfkit was trying to distract himself. He knew that. But he wondered what kind of leader she had been. He wondered if she would ever get better.
Lots of cats didn't.
There was the gray she-cat. Her name was Jaypaw, and her fur was clean. Everyone knew that she was Eveningblaze's daughter, and that he took specially good care of her. Or maybe not everyone. Maybe just... cats who spent lots of time in the Medicine den. Like Wolfkit, and Daddy, and...
"Cawf?"
Wofkit whipped around, startled by the sudden noise. But he could see what voice had jolted him from his thoughts in the back of the medicine cat den. A wiry body- white fur with orange patches. Thin and stringy with a round face and golden eyes as large as they were hard. He smelled like sick and plants, and the clovers outside the den. Cherrypaw. He was Eveningblaze's apprentice, and Patchpaw and Rippedpaw's brother. Wolfkit had smelled him when he'd first walked in, but he.. hadn't realized that he was still here. Wolfkit stared. The pale tom shifted impatiently.
Wolfkit came here lots, but he didn't talk to Cherrypaw. Most cats didn't talk to Cherrypaw, cause cats said that Cherrypaw couldn't talk. They said that he couldn't hear, neither. He never left the Medicine Den, unless he was going out of camp or talking to his siblings. Or uh... not... really talking, um, they just kind of- it wasn't like Wolfkit spied or anything!- but- uh- Wolfkit usually talked to Eveningblaze, or Daddy. Was.. um.. Eveningblaze here? Wolfkit looked around, unease prickling at his pelt as the larger tom stared at him. And stared. And stared. Was he.. um...?
"Cawf?!"
Cherrypaw repeated insistently, and something in Wolfkit's mind clicked. Oh! He'd asked a question! He- uh... Coughing. Right. "Um.. Y-yeah, I was climbing a tree and playing with Stormkit and Adderkit, and I fell down, and I started coughing again.." he stuttered out almost without thinking. His chest hurt. He wasn't coughing, but it still hurt. That.. uh... was close enough, right? Wolfkit looked down at his paws, guilt prickling along his spine. It wasn't lying if it really did hurt, even if it wasn't the usual kind, was it?
Cherrypaw stared blankly.
Wolfkit stared back.
Was he going to... say anything? Or... do anything? Wolfkit watched him. But Cherrypaw just looked at him, eyes bored and tired and more than a little bit annoyed. By now.. Eveningblaze would have... gotten plants, or come over to put paws on his chest, or something. But Cherrypaw just watched him. And it made Wolfkit wonder. He heard cats say things like.. he was dumb. Rippedpaw, too. That they didn't understand words like other cats did, and that they couldn't play or train. He was old enough to remember- they'd become apprentices real late. Wolfkit felt.. guilty, thinking those things, but..
The pale tom moved suddenly. The speed at which he reached his side startled the kit, and he flinched at the feeling of paws on his fur. He pressed into the moss, unsure what to expect. He didn't know this tom even if he shared a den with Eveningblaze. He was the medicine cat's apprentice, but a stranger. A stranger who cats talked about. Big, strong cats like Stagheart and Pantherkit. Wolfkit was young. Wolfkit was impressionable. Wolfkit ate the words of his elders like the finest prey on the pile, and-
Cherrypaw's touch was gentle.
His paws were soft and small as they turned Wolfkit, lifting him with ease and lying him on is back. Wolfkit barely had to move. He felt himself relaxing against the gentle prods- the sheathing and unsheathing of little claws as they parted his fur, searching for his heartbeat. He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected the soft touch- the delicate precision with which Cherrypaw searched. Careful, even. Not like playing, or curling into the nest with his siblings. Not even like Eveningblaze's touch- his was straight and to the point. Rough. This, though.. Cherrypaw put one paw on Wolfkit's ribs before pressing his ear to his chest.
It reminded him of Petalfrost, he realized.
The whole operation couldn't have been more than a few moments, but it felt like longer. When Cherrypaw pulled away, Wolfkit blinked up at him. But Cherrypaw didn't wait, then. He didn't stare. He moved away, padding to the back of the den with purpose. Wolfkit watched him disappear behind the hanging lichen. And his young, impressionable mind wavered. It twitched and squirmed, and before long, unease resettled itself in Wolfkit's heart. But this- this was different, he thought. Different from the sick cats and different from the ache in his chest. He couldn't place a paw on it. It wasn't- Oh, Wolfkit didn't know. He was young. He didn't know much of anything. The world around him would shape him without his realization or say. And yet, something in that impressionable young heart was shifting. Like stones in a river, blocking the water's flow. Or perhaps pebbles in the creek.
And then, Cherrypaw was back. Wolfkit rolled to his stomach, looking up to meet golden eyes. No. They weren't.. They weren't dumb. They were too sharp, too bright, too harsh. Like the thorns that pricked his paws and stones that scraped his pads. Cold and far. But his touch was so different. No... Cherrypaw wasn't dumb. Wolfkit didn't think so.
The tom dropped two berries at Wolfkit's paws. Shriveled and dark blue, Wolfkit recognized them. He didn't remember what they were called, but Eveningblaze gave them to him sometimes.
"Eat." Cherrypaw instructed, nudging them forward.
Wolfkit complied, grimacing against the piney taste as he did so. He didn't- did he even need them? It.. he couldn't give them back now though. So he ate them. And after a moment... He found himself relaxing. His breathing eased- had... it been tenser than he'd thought?
Cherrypaw turned away, working towards the other cats in the den. And Wolfkit watched, waiting for the herbs to set in. He watched Eveningblaze's apprentice check the eyes and noses of the ill, and he watched the tom return to the stores and come back with more plants that he didn't recognize. He watched him work like a cat with a plan, and like a cat with purpose. It reminded him of.. Turtlefrost, now. Or the warriors in camp. Just... with plants, instead. Wolfkit had heard lots of things about medicine cats. A few warriors called them lazy- Stagheart said that the only reason they healed was because they were too weak to fight. One cat said that cats only became medicine cats when they got hurt so bad they couldn't do nothin else. Wolfkit wondered who had hurt Cherrypaw.
He also wondered if maybe, just maybe, the things that other cats said weren't always true.
They were grownups- of course they were right. And even the other kits- why would they say things that weren't true? What would it get them? But.. Wolfkit didn't know. Because... even though some cats said that Cherrypaw was stupid, he didn't seem.... dumb. He seemed... busy. He began to wonder if the same thing was true about Rippedpaw. Maybe.. he didn't know. Gears shifting. His head was fuzzy from the plants. Pine scent in his nose drowned out the stench of death. Wolfkit didn't like the idea that he was getting used to that smell, but now... he was getting just a bit too sleepy to care.
Thought's storm had turned to lulling waves, and Wolfkit wasn't sure how much time had passed before he slept. But his sleep was deep. Restful. And for the first time in a long, long while, undisturbed by the dreams.
Adderkit and Stormkit were looking for him again. They wanted him to climb the tree on the edge of camp and get the bird eggs, but Wolfkit wasn't as big as them yet. He didn't know how to climb. He was scared that the bird would hurt him, and that he would get called a baby again. He'd tried once- he really had! But he'd gotten maybe... A grownup tail-length from the ground before falling down. And Pantherkit hadn't even been playing with them- she was with Cedarpaw! But she'd laughed. And Wolfkit's ears had burned. And his eyes had burned. And then, like always, his chest had burned.
Why did they make his heart hurt so much?
He'd started coughing, and had said that he was going to Eveningblaze's den. They'd rolled their eyes. Or, at least Stormkit had. He could never tell with Adderkit. But looking at their faces for too long when he messed up made him feel bad. especially their eyes.
Wolfkit didn't have Daddy's eyes, and everyone said he didn't have Scorpionstorm's either.
The coughing hadn't been real- not that time. It usually was real, and lots of times Petalfrost would have to walk him to see Eveningblaze he was coughin so hard. He would eat some yucky herbs and stay there for a while- but one never got used to the feeling of death that hung there. He would usually leave after a little while. But this time, yeah, the coughing was fake. He had used it as an excuse. An excuse not to see his brother and sister laughing at him for being small, or grey, or blue-eyed like a stupid baby. He didn't want Adderkit to call him a quitter or Stormkit to call him little. The scent of this den may have made him gag- it might have made him scared and it might have made his fur prickle, but cats weren't allowed in here anymore. He could be alone here- mostly, anyways. Even if only for a few minutes.
Wolfkit settled into his usual spot. A small patch of moss, just adjacent to the den wall. On the uh.. opposite side, from the really sick cats. He was just pretending. He was just a guest. So he sat in the guest nest, which day by day, was becoming less and less used. Daddy was gone from the den, now. He stayed in his big den under the rock. Sometimes Wolfkit liked to sneak out of the nursery and crawl into his nest, but the medicine den felt empty without him here. Wolfkit looked around.
There were fewer sick cats now. It took a bit of bravery to actually look at them. He hardly knew their names. They'd been here... since before he'd been born.
There was the golden she-cat. Her name was Honeyheart, cats said. She was strong, and she hung on. She was Patchpaw's mama, he knew that. And he knew that she had been the leader before Daddy. She probably hadn't always looked like this, with blood caked around her nose and ears, the smell of vomit clinging stubbornly to her messed fur. Wolfkit was trying to distract himself. He knew that. But he wondered what kind of leader she had been. He wondered if she would ever get better.
Lots of cats didn't.
There was the gray she-cat. Her name was Jaypaw, and her fur was clean. Everyone knew that she was Eveningblaze's daughter, and that he took specially good care of her. Or maybe not everyone. Maybe just... cats who spent lots of time in the Medicine den. Like Wolfkit, and Daddy, and...
"Cawf?"
Wofkit whipped around, startled by the sudden noise. But he could see what voice had jolted him from his thoughts in the back of the medicine cat den. A wiry body- white fur with orange patches. Thin and stringy with a round face and golden eyes as large as they were hard. He smelled like sick and plants, and the clovers outside the den. Cherrypaw. He was Eveningblaze's apprentice, and Patchpaw and Rippedpaw's brother. Wolfkit had smelled him when he'd first walked in, but he.. hadn't realized that he was still here. Wolfkit stared. The pale tom shifted impatiently.
Wolfkit came here lots, but he didn't talk to Cherrypaw. Most cats didn't talk to Cherrypaw, cause cats said that Cherrypaw couldn't talk. They said that he couldn't hear, neither. He never left the Medicine Den, unless he was going out of camp or talking to his siblings. Or uh... not... really talking, um, they just kind of- it wasn't like Wolfkit spied or anything!- but- uh- Wolfkit usually talked to Eveningblaze, or Daddy. Was.. um.. Eveningblaze here? Wolfkit looked around, unease prickling at his pelt as the larger tom stared at him. And stared. And stared. Was he.. um...?
"Cawf?!"
Cherrypaw repeated insistently, and something in Wolfkit's mind clicked. Oh! He'd asked a question! He- uh... Coughing. Right. "Um.. Y-yeah, I was climbing a tree and playing with Stormkit and Adderkit, and I fell down, and I started coughing again.." he stuttered out almost without thinking. His chest hurt. He wasn't coughing, but it still hurt. That.. uh... was close enough, right? Wolfkit looked down at his paws, guilt prickling along his spine. It wasn't lying if it really did hurt, even if it wasn't the usual kind, was it?
Cherrypaw stared blankly.
Wolfkit stared back.
Was he going to... say anything? Or... do anything? Wolfkit watched him. But Cherrypaw just looked at him, eyes bored and tired and more than a little bit annoyed. By now.. Eveningblaze would have... gotten plants, or come over to put paws on his chest, or something. But Cherrypaw just watched him. And it made Wolfkit wonder. He heard cats say things like.. he was dumb. Rippedpaw, too. That they didn't understand words like other cats did, and that they couldn't play or train. He was old enough to remember- they'd become apprentices real late. Wolfkit felt.. guilty, thinking those things, but..
The pale tom moved suddenly. The speed at which he reached his side startled the kit, and he flinched at the feeling of paws on his fur. He pressed into the moss, unsure what to expect. He didn't know this tom even if he shared a den with Eveningblaze. He was the medicine cat's apprentice, but a stranger. A stranger who cats talked about. Big, strong cats like Stagheart and Pantherkit. Wolfkit was young. Wolfkit was impressionable. Wolfkit ate the words of his elders like the finest prey on the pile, and-
Cherrypaw's touch was gentle.
His paws were soft and small as they turned Wolfkit, lifting him with ease and lying him on is back. Wolfkit barely had to move. He felt himself relaxing against the gentle prods- the sheathing and unsheathing of little claws as they parted his fur, searching for his heartbeat. He hadn't expected it. He hadn't expected the soft touch- the delicate precision with which Cherrypaw searched. Careful, even. Not like playing, or curling into the nest with his siblings. Not even like Eveningblaze's touch- his was straight and to the point. Rough. This, though.. Cherrypaw put one paw on Wolfkit's ribs before pressing his ear to his chest.
It reminded him of Petalfrost, he realized.
The whole operation couldn't have been more than a few moments, but it felt like longer. When Cherrypaw pulled away, Wolfkit blinked up at him. But Cherrypaw didn't wait, then. He didn't stare. He moved away, padding to the back of the den with purpose. Wolfkit watched him disappear behind the hanging lichen. And his young, impressionable mind wavered. It twitched and squirmed, and before long, unease resettled itself in Wolfkit's heart. But this- this was different, he thought. Different from the sick cats and different from the ache in his chest. He couldn't place a paw on it. It wasn't- Oh, Wolfkit didn't know. He was young. He didn't know much of anything. The world around him would shape him without his realization or say. And yet, something in that impressionable young heart was shifting. Like stones in a river, blocking the water's flow. Or perhaps pebbles in the creek.
And then, Cherrypaw was back. Wolfkit rolled to his stomach, looking up to meet golden eyes. No. They weren't.. They weren't dumb. They were too sharp, too bright, too harsh. Like the thorns that pricked his paws and stones that scraped his pads. Cold and far. But his touch was so different. No... Cherrypaw wasn't dumb. Wolfkit didn't think so.
The tom dropped two berries at Wolfkit's paws. Shriveled and dark blue, Wolfkit recognized them. He didn't remember what they were called, but Eveningblaze gave them to him sometimes.
"Eat." Cherrypaw instructed, nudging them forward.
Wolfkit complied, grimacing against the piney taste as he did so. He didn't- did he even need them? It.. he couldn't give them back now though. So he ate them. And after a moment... He found himself relaxing. His breathing eased- had... it been tenser than he'd thought?
Cherrypaw turned away, working towards the other cats in the den. And Wolfkit watched, waiting for the herbs to set in. He watched Eveningblaze's apprentice check the eyes and noses of the ill, and he watched the tom return to the stores and come back with more plants that he didn't recognize. He watched him work like a cat with a plan, and like a cat with purpose. It reminded him of.. Turtlefrost, now. Or the warriors in camp. Just... with plants, instead. Wolfkit had heard lots of things about medicine cats. A few warriors called them lazy- Stagheart said that the only reason they healed was because they were too weak to fight. One cat said that cats only became medicine cats when they got hurt so bad they couldn't do nothin else. Wolfkit wondered who had hurt Cherrypaw.
He also wondered if maybe, just maybe, the things that other cats said weren't always true.
They were grownups- of course they were right. And even the other kits- why would they say things that weren't true? What would it get them? But.. Wolfkit didn't know. Because... even though some cats said that Cherrypaw was stupid, he didn't seem.... dumb. He seemed... busy. He began to wonder if the same thing was true about Rippedpaw. Maybe.. he didn't know. Gears shifting. His head was fuzzy from the plants. Pine scent in his nose drowned out the stench of death. Wolfkit didn't like the idea that he was getting used to that smell, but now... he was getting just a bit too sleepy to care.
Thought's storm had turned to lulling waves, and Wolfkit wasn't sure how much time had passed before he slept. But his sleep was deep. Restful. And for the first time in a long, long while, undisturbed by the dreams.