alone in the morning [open]

[!! FLI]

* DARKKIT ! !

If they expected him to be awake, they were in for a sore surprise.

Darkkit was not a morning person. Of course, neither was he a night owl. He was something else entirely: a sleeper. He was laying in his over-stuffed nest [he'd made it himself], sprawled out on his side with his paws all over the place. He was nearing a size to be too big for the nursery and with his legs all stretched out, he certainly looked too large. In fact, one outstretched back leg cut across the entrance to the den, blocking the way.

Even in his peaceful nest in his peaceful camp, he was plagued by a dream. He kept seeing a dark-pelted she-cat. She had bright gold eyes that he found mesmerizing. She was beautiful, he couldn't help but think. But in his dream, the phantom she-cat was not happy. She ran about screeching angry words and mean things. Another she-cat entered his vision. She was lighter, less beautiful, but more graceful and she appeared to carry herself with power. The two she-cats, light and dark, proceeded to snarl at each other and eventually leap to attack.

Darkkit breathed sharply in, awakening at once. He didn't move at first, his two gold eyes staring forward and his body still all stretched out. There was a fuzzy feeling in his mind. He'd just been dreaming, he was sure... But about what? He remembered it had had she-cats in it, but, then, he was a young tom; she-cats were on his mind often.

He stretched slowly, letting his body reach out even further than he was already sprawled. His small claws slid from his toes as he flexed them as well. There certainly were advantages to not having a mother. Darkkit got up whenever he wanted, ate whenever he wanted, even went to bed whenever he wanted (although he rarely saw any point to staying up late). So, while his lonely position was lacking, it wasn't all bad.

He rolled quickly to his paws, minding coming alive with the movement. What should he do today? Climb a tree? Chase a bird? sneak out of camp? Shove Moonkit into a termite nest? All so tempting... He decided to think it over while enjoying his morning breakfast.

Little black paws tottered lazily from the den, tail flicking back and forth as if to his own little tune. He snorted in mild disgust as he reached the pile. Two mice and a vole. That was it? Stupid warriors, he thought to himself. Always eating before they go on patrols... All the same, his heart soared at the thought of joining a warrior patrol and seeing all of TrunkClan's territory. Darkkit carried his size with pride: it was a sign that he was nearing his apprentice ceremony. Who did he want as a mentor? He didn't care, anyone would do.

Well, no, he took that back. There was only one cat that would really do as his mentor: Pridefeather. He wanted the powerful and skilled deputy to teach him the way of the warrior. No one less would do. Darkkit would literally throw a fit if he ended up apprenticed to a young warrior.

He snatched up one of the mice and padded back over to the nursery's entrance. It was embarrassing to have to sleep in a den called the "nursery". Not everyone who slept there was completely useless and tiny. He ruffled his fur, admiring the way it fell back into place over his young muscles. A half-smile on his face, he took a bite of his mouse. It was gone in a few bites. He buried the remains only because he knew the queens would restrict him to the nursery again if he didn't. He sat tall when he was done, swiping his tongue over his whiskers.

Now, to find something to do...

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count; 646
comments; Open, but particularly for Skye&Moonkit.

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[⋆ -- fALLEN __ [s t a r]]

It was one of those dreams again.
Her gaze soft with sleep, Moonkit slipped out of the nursery and squinted up at the sky with deep blue eyes. Tiny jaw gaping into the yawn, she blindly stumbled over to a familiar spot - shadowed by the leaves, yet somehow the dawn light managed to peek through the creaks inbetween the green foliage - and slumped down, murmuring something inaudible when she placed her head in her paws.
The sun shone brilliantly, despite it just being sunrise, and she squinted, whimpering unhappily. Though the sun had only just begun to peep beyond the horizon, the young she-cat was used to the darkness inside the den, and the feeble orange light hurt her vulnerable eyes.
Swirling hues of pastel shades filled her memory, pressing against her thoughts like a foreign painting and she faintly wondered that, maybe, possibly, if it was possible that she would one day remember what her past was like. Moonkit looked around tiredly, morning laziness still tugging at her smaller frame, and somewhere in the back of her head, wondered where Goldenkit or Dark-kit was. Her tail flicked and she decided it didn't matter. The prior seemed to hate her and the latter, well, he just got on her nerves.
Still, his company was always welcome. Biting her lip, she mused as to why he - Dark-kit that is - made her feel more alive than any other cat she ever met. Then, she shrugged it off and fidgeted softly, trying to find a comfortable position.
there was something about remembering, whether it was of the past or the present, that didn't quite agree with the young kitten. It was not so much that it hurt physically more than mentally (though it did play a big part of it) but something deep in the cream-hued she-cats subconscious claimed that was it reminiscent of some eerie pained experience, but perhaps - as she sometime wondered when she was lost in her own dreams, like forgotten reality - she was really just scared of remembering.
Scared that everything she had come to know - TrunkClan, Goldenkit, Dark-kit, Flightstar - would vanish right from underneath her paws once she realized the truth of her lie life.
most of the time, Moonkit could forget about the fragments of the past that occasionally intruded her mind, making the clear-cut images of reality blurred and the definite theories - ideas such as what the warrior code was and why they had to follow it - became blurry lines of a false world she suddenly wasn't so sure of anymore.
once, a long time ago, Moonkit used to believe in a black and white world, but her world was slowly shifting into shades of gray.
thoughts spinning around like flashes of color, as if blinding her, the pale-cream femme hadn't noticed the clan's medicine cat stroll to her side, carrying fresh prey in her mouth, with the smooth and careful, yet warm and confident stride that Heathernose - whether or not she realized it - often seemed to have, as far as Moonkit could tell that is.
ivory mouth stretched into a sleepy yawn - as the custom for most cats who woke up early in the morning, whether it was their attention or not - the dawn sunlight was warm on her back, the faint tabby stripes that aligned themselves in a pleasant pattern along her backside brought out in a striking, alluring glow.
She blinked suddenly, her shoulder tensing when she heard the familiar beat of pawsteps, one that signaled none other than Dark-kit -- one of the cats she felt the closest to, yet incrediby annoyed by. Breathing in deeply, Moonkit slowly turned to face the golden eyes of her denmate. The back of her neck prickled, the same way it did every time she saw him and had the urge - just for the heck of it - to argue, just to see his reaction. This time, quite unlike all those other times, the cream-colored tabby ignored it and smiled softly, acknowledging his presence with a flick of her tail. Moonkit's mind was swimming with so many thoughts and her shoulders were burdened with so many blurred memories that she couldn't think straight, let alone fight a decent, coherent argument with him when it wasn't necessary.
"Morning Darkkit," she finally murmured, trying to block the headache that was sure to come with those foreign, overloading images that she never could understand. His name felt weird on her tongue, but warm too, and she blinked in surprise, wondering why she had never really addressed him as Darkkit, compared to "mousebrain" or "doofus".
then she giggled softly, realizing that they had known each other for moons and yet, she had never - not once - called him Dark-kit like she did now.

and for the first time
in my fragmented life
I breathed.

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word count: 809
status: fini
comments: n/a

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[!! FLI]

* DARKKIT ! !

They were very much like polar opposites. In fur, she was pale where he was dark. In eyes, hers were soft, and his sharp. He already showed the signs of growing into a large, blocky cat, while her body was far more feminine. She had blocked out her painful memories, opposite to the way he struggled to recall his past. When the got older, Darkkit figured Moonkit would be one for hunting, while he longed to excel in fighting. Even their names were opposites: his ebony and shadowy, hers pale and illuminating.

And yet they seemed cursed to each others company. Both lived in the same den with few denmates. They were the same age and would be apprenticed at the same time. Knowing their luck, they'd end up with mentors who were best friends, too.

[not done]

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