i want a moment to be real [darkkit.tc]

[!! FLI]

[/b] Amory
OTHER CHARACTERS: Flightstar, Gorsefang, & Pepperpaw

I ' M . S T I L L . H E R E

NAME: Darkkit
AGE: 5 moons
GENDER: Tom
RANK: Kit


PERSONALITY: Older cats all recognize how much like her he is. What they don't realize is how much Darkkit's like his father, too. Without trying, he's become a very strong mixture of the two.

Darkkit's sub-conscious mind has been pretty busy. It has formed who he is, what he does, how he acts. Without consciously meaning to, the young tom has formed around himself a shell. It keeps others away from him and, more importantly, protects him. At the same time, though, his protective shell alienates him and hurts him. More than anything, Darkkit just wants to be a normal kit. He longs for parents and siblings and more friends. He wants to be liked by all of his clan, and looked fondly upon by the TrunkClanners he hasn't come to recognize yet. All his outer-self does is push people away.

No one can deny that Darkkit is a very arrogant young cat. And who wouldn't be? He has formed a false image of himself simply because a kit his age couldn't stand to face the truth of who he is. He pretends he's more than he ever will be, acts like someone high and mighty. When all he really is... is a young kit with no family, graced with few friends, and hated by his clan. Arrogance is the only way his young mind keeps functioning. He tells himself and others that he doesn't care what others think of him, that he doesn't care what they say about him behind his back and even to his face. In the deepest, darkest corner of himself, though, he does.

The Darkkit very few people get to see is actually a normal kit. He's curious and playful. He loves playing games and certainly loves winning them. He adores the attention of adults, even if he scarcely knows them. He tells lies, but also admits some wrongs. He wants to be an apprentice just so he can become a warrior. He secretly dreams of having the leader or deputy as his mentor. He loves mice and is frightened of the mysteries of medicine cats.

But the only face the world gets to see is the one who can't admit he's wrong, talks back to adults, plays tricks on elders, and goes out of his way to get into trouble. The Darkkit everyone sees is quick to point out the flaws of others, but slow to see his own. He says he doesn't believe in StarClan, but is terrified of them, which shows he really does believe. He hates the thought of being high in the trees, where the ground isn't so comfortingly close.

There are very few cats who genuinely get to know young Darkkit, and even fewer to whom he will open up to.

APPEARANCE: At a glance, Darkkit's appearance embodies the thought that he is a dark stain on TrunkClan.

He is, as his name would suggest, very dark with pure black fur. Not a spot of lighter fur adorns his body. It is black all over. When he was younger, the light would hit his pelt and make him appear dark brown. As he's gotten older, though, it has grown thicker and darker yet. The only lightening you can see in his pelt is his underbelly. When he rolls over in the sun, you can see faint spots on his dark belly. Also, as with most cats, his fur gets the faintest bit lighter around his eyes.

His eyes themselves are colored brilliant, sharp gold. Few cats expect such eyes in a cat so young. His eyes began changing almost immediately after they opened and became brighter and brighter with each passing week.

Even at an early age, it became apparent that Darkkit fits the stereotype of a TrunkClan cat. His shoulders are already broad for his tiny body and his paws show that he'll grow to a large size. His tail isn't very long, though, which means he'll never be so good a climber as any BranchClan or LeafClan cat.

HISTORY:

i am a question to the world,
not an answer to be heard.

Everyone knew it was wrong. In the beginning, they pretended not to notice. They would make light comments like, "My, she must be digging deep into the fresh-kill pile!" Then they'd laugh in their fake, hollow laughs. They'd glance away from each other, unable to admit the truth aloud.

Their medicine cat was pregnant.

all a moment that's held in your arms.
and what do you think you'd ever say?

Sparrowpelt was a pretty she-cat from day one. She'd charmed her first mentor with an easy smile as she'd touched his nose before the leader and the entire clan. She'd won her first battle practices by waving her tail and batting her eyes. She would sit in the sunlight in the middle of the camp and lick her long calico fur clean, pretending she didn't notice how the toms all turned their heads to watch her. She was only eight moons old when he first caught her eye. He made himself look away from her. She saw his muscles tense as he walked past her, over to his she-cat. Sparrowpaw smiled. She'd bid her time.

You'd have thought things would have changed as she received her second mentor. After all, she was older, calmer, more mature. She talked quieter, hid her calculating, plotting mind. Sparrowpaw became a studious cat, always practicing and memorizing. She had learned their territory as well as the back of her paw from her first mentor, but she was careful to keep the memory of it all fresh in her mind. Although they mourned the loss of her spunky beauty, the clan was fully satisfied. Sparrowpaw made herself friends with a she-cat Dawnpaw and often went wandering with Fishpaw.

At the ripe young age of 16 moons, she was named Sparrowpelt. The clan glowed with pride. After all, what was there to dislike about her?

She was 18 moons when Fishscale decided to admit his feelings. He loved her. She let a small smirk cover her face and walked away from him, crushing the tender tom's heart. The clan thought it was only proper. Love was no longer her forte.

you don't know me,
and i'll never be what you want me to be.

Dawnstripe was young to be a deputy. But she deserved it, no one could dispute. She upheld her clan's laws and rules to the dot. She was intelligent, loyal, and could feed half the clan with her day-long hunting patrols. Before she was quite six moons old, Dawnpaw was apprenticed to the clan's leader, a high honor. She learned with alarming speed. The clan was whispering about her warrior ceremony when she was only thirteen moons old. She only had to wait another moon. Dawnstripe she was named before the entire clan. Anyone could see she was destined for greatness.

At 18 moons, she received her first apprentice. Her name was Seapaw. She was a tiny tabby, but eager and sweet. Dawnstripe took her train easy at first. The tiny she-cat memorized things in a heartbeat, but it took her body a while to follow her mind. The two grew close quickly. Dawnstripe took joy in spending her time with the small apprentice. And when she wasn't training, she spent her time divided between two cats. The first was the tall and handsome Hawkdive. They'd trained together from their earliest apprentice days. The other cat was Sparrowpelt. They had been born within days of each other and used to play together as kits. The tortoiseshell she-cat was intelligent and often gave Dawnstripe hints and advice for getting herself ready for the deputy position. The clan's deputy was getting old, and everyone knew he'd retire soon. Sparrowpelt was helping her become the leader's first choice.

And at 20 moons old she was chosen.

At 21 moons Seapaw died. She grew sick and no amount of herbs could heal her aching body. She was only nine moons old. Dawnstripe mourned her apprentice and close friend heavily. She felt like she had nowhere to turn. But Hawkdive was there. He was her shoulder to lean on, her supportive rock. Under the glittering sky of Silverpelt, they agreed to be mates.

and how can you learn what's never shown?
yeah, you stand here on your own.

Dawnstar was 31 moons old and pregnant. An elder had pointed out the change in her scent, and Dawnstar knew what it was right away. But why hadn't the medicine cat noticed before? If an elder knew, surely the medicine cat did too, right?

She padded from camp, off to find Hawkdive. She had to tell him. Their first litter. She already had names in mind. Maybe Duskkit, Eaglekit, and Sunkit? They would be perfect, she just knew it. They'd be born on a beautiful early Leaf-fall day. They would play in puddles and chase leaves at a few moons old and play in the first snow. In spring they'd become apprentices. Then they'd grow up to be miraculous, powerful hunters and skilled fighters. They'd be perfect. Maybe one of them would become leader after her someday.

Her relationship with Hawkdive had grown. Where it had began as a close friendship and minor dependency, it had grown to a full-blown need. She loved him. It was a feeling Dawnstar had never expected to feel. Indeed, she'd never expected to have a mate, let alone kits. From her earliest days, her life had been about being the best warrior. The clan had always expected her to pursue her ambitions. In reality, she'd only done it to make her clan happy. She lead because she cared about TrunkClan and wanted them strong and safe. But Hawkdive... He made her feel alive. She couldn't imagine life without him. He was handsome, strong, gentle, with an easy sense of humor and a great love for his clan. It was from him her kits would get their perfection, she thought without a doubt.

and I want a moment to be real,
wanna touch things I don't feel,
wanna hold on and feel I belong.

She had found him. Her eyes were wide and her jaw dropped. She couldn't make a sound.

Sparrowpelt's tongue rasped over his ear. There was an unmistakable purr in the air. Dawnstar was having trouble telling where the tabby fur stopped and the tortoiseshell started. Their tails were crossing, both twitching in content. They lay in the crook of a tree root, close together and comfortable. He was licking her long fur backwards. She laughed a high, melodic sound.

Dawnstar couldn't watch them. She ran, ran without looking where she was. What she had seen couldn't have possibly been real. Her two closest friends... A shudder ran through her body and she tripped. Beneath a golden bramble, she crouched, struggling to catch her breath. All she could see was the two of them. Closing her eyes, she completely blocked the memory from her mind. She made herself forget.

Then she stood, chided herself for wandering off, and padded back to camp.

and you see the things they never see
all you wanted, I could be.

She moved in a graceful motion, cleaning the tabby hairs from her pelt and chasing away his scent. There were no thoughts in her head about how horrified Dawnstar and the clan would be. All she was comprehending was the memory of him when she had been a young apprentice of eight moons old. There was an unmistakable glint of triumph in her amber eyes.

There was a rustle of a cat in a nearby bramble. She turned her head, expecting Hawkdive. But it wasn't him. Instead it was a gray and white tom, his shoulder's thinner than the tabby tom and his blue eyes dead-looking. Fishscale.

"You'll have him, but not me?"

He leaped at her. Her claws dug into his fur and she snarled with anger. They were about equal sizes, but he was stronger. He forced her still. No matter how she fought him, it didn't matter. Her litter would have two fathers.

and I wanna tell you who I am
can you help me be a man?

They gave birth at the same time. Dawnstar went into labor at her expected time. Sparrowpelt, however, was early. Her fur was ragged, and her eyes had a wild glint to them. The cats who'd known her her entire life whispered that they didn't recognize her. Her belly was swollen with kits. Dawnstar scarcely showed at all. In the stress and pressure of it all, Sparrowpelt's kitting started not long after Dawnstar's.

It was hectic and crazy. A warrior would be told to lick a kit. When it was dry and wriggling, he'd have no idea which queen the kit belonged to. So they just kept licking, glancing back and forth. They couldn't even use size to tell the kits apart. They all seemed to be the same size, the ones that came on time and the early ones.

In the end, there were seven of them. Two tabbies, two mottled gray, two black, and one ginger. Dawnstar would only lick the ginger kit, the one she knew without a doubt was hers. When they took a final headcount, there was two mottled gray she-cats, one tabby she-cat, and the rest toms. Goldenkit. That was the name Dawnstar gave her son. Sparrowpelt was too exhausted to so much as look at her litter.

Within a few hours, the two tabbies had slowly wasted away. Dawnstar came to find her mate burying the two tiny scraps of fur. "They were hers," he said. But he wasn't really so sure. One of the gray kits followed within a day.

and their words are just whispers
and lies that I'll never believe.

The clan refused to so much as look at Sparrowpelt's kits. They constantly congratulated Dawnstar on her beautiful and strong little son. He was already the pride of the clan. Sparrowpelt's three remained ignored.

When she finally had the energy and nothing else to do, she gave her kits names. She named the gray she-kit first. Rosekit. The second was Coalkit, for his pitch black fur and blue eyes. And the last was Darkkit.

There didn't appear to be much of anything special about him, except that he had his mother's eyes. Born blue like all kits', they started changing gold within a week of opening. By the time he was a moon and a half old, they were completely gold.

The three of them acted like normal kits. They just weren't treated like normal kits. Even there mother had a tendency of ignoring them. Sometimes other queens had to nurse them just so they'd get fed. Other than that, the clan generally pretended they didn't exist.

and how can the world want me to change,
they're the ones that stay the same.

Finally, Sparrowpelt had decided she'd had enough. She had come to despise her own clan. While Darkkit slept, she picked up Rosekit and Coalkit and simply left. She never once glanced back for her remaining son. For all she cared, she only had two kits.

Hawkdive met her halfway through TrunkClan territory. He refused to let her take the kits away. He no longer cared if Sparrowpelt herself left, but the kits, he argued, should be raised as TrunkClan cats. The dark she-cat snapped. She shoved her kits aside and attacked him. His shock gave her the upper hand.

When they found his body later, there was no sign of Sparrowpelt or Rosekit and Coalkit. They were gone. Just gone.

Dawnstar turned her sorrow into anger and directed it at Darkkit at first. Her mind was slipping, as it had since the day she'd seen the two of them alone int he forest. The only reason she didn't throw herself off a high place was Goldenkit. He was her one thing to live for. By that point, the clan's deputy was doing most of the leading.

they can break me
as long as I know who I am

They were three moons old. Darkkit was lonely and Goldenkit had no littermates to play with. It seemed only natural that the two would become close friends. They were the same exact age, similarly sized, but with strikingly different pelts. Both were young, curious, and playful. It seemed to them that they were simply destined to be friends.

But Dawnstar hated it. The first time she caught them wrestling together, she yelled at them both. For half a moon, they weren't allowed to so much as catch glimpses of each other. Goldenkit stayed in the leader's den with his mother, and Darkkit was confined to the nursery.

Things would have stayed that way if Dawnstar hadn't died. How never really mattered to the two tom-kits. She was simply gone. Darkkit was ecstatic at first. But when he realized Goldenkit's pain, he forced himself to feel sad, too. He knew the pain of losing a mother, although he was still to young yet to understand that his had left him willingly.

From then on, they were like brothers. Different queens took turns caring for them. In several moons, their lives became full of mischief and games. They didn't talk about the pain and sadness. Pretending it simply wasn't there.

they can't see me,
but I'm still here.

ROLE PLAY SAMPLE: N/a. See Gorsefang.

[lyrics (C) John Rzeznik - "I'm Still Here (Jim's Theme)"]

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[⋆ -- fALLEN __ [s t a r]]