AN: This first one is about a warrior who secretly had kits, but gave them up-because she had them when she was still an apprentice. I guess you could say this drabble is really about her coming to terms with that choice and how she moves on.
...So, here's to plenty more of these to come!
Goodbye
a drabble by auriella
There they were-little paws scrabbling about in the dirt, pelts littered with scraps of grass, eyes excited and bright. Only a few fox-tails away. So close that Cloudwhisker could cross the physical distance between them with a single bound.
They didn't seem to have noticed her yet; they were too caught up in their game, too busy rearing up onto their stubby hind legs and pulling each other to the ground. The wispy dusk air was filled with high-pitched squeals and clouds of dust. But no cat seemed to mind. There hadn't been any kits in the nursery since Cloudwhisker and her sister, Ivystripe, had been apprenticed-over six moons ago.
Rainkit fell and tumbled over to Cloudwhisker's paws, landing on her back. Small white spots peppered the kit's belly, and the warrior found herself moving her tail to uncover her own matching ones.
"Hello, Rainkit." She tried to erase the tremble in her voice, but to no avail. Rainkit stared up at her with wide blue eyes, eyes that mirrored her mother's own. "It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong." Please don't be afraid. Not of me. "You know my name, don't you? It's Cloudwhisker."
"Hi, Cloudwhisker," Rainkit mewed softly, flipping into her belly and rising unsteadily to her paws. At once Cloudwhisker ducked her head down to lay her muzzle on the kit's shoulders, helping her regain her balance. Even after Rainkit steadied the she-cat kept her muzzle pressed to her body, buried in her blue-gray fur. Cloudwhisker shut her eyes and drank in the kit's scent, trying to suppress the trembling now threatening to overtake her. Miraculously, Rainkit didn't pull away. "You're warm."
For a moment, it was as if things were the way they should be.
"Mother!" A chorus of tiny squeals rang out into the air. For one blind second Cloudwhisker felt a blaze of hopeful joy and, immediately after, hated herself for it. She forced herself to open her eyes and saw the kits leaping onto Otterheart, who greeted them with a purr. Rainkit wrenched herself from Cloudwhisker and raced over to join her littermates, burying her face into the queen's fur.
After bending over to give each kit a lick, Otterheart raised her amber eyes to meet Cloudwhisker's, reading the pain on her face. The warrior couldn't discern any sign of judgment in the queen's gaze-only a soft understanding. It was more than she deserved.
"Cloudwhisker! Come hunting with me!" The warrior wrenched her blue eyes from the kits, now tumbling around Otterheart's paws, and turned to see her sister padding impatiently by the camp entrance. Cloudwhisker sighed and looked back at the kits. They were squirming away from the queen, trying to avoid her tongue-but she hooked them closer with her tail and groomed them one by one. They grumbled in protest but couldn't hide their resulting purrs. "Cloudwhisker!" Ivystripe snapped again, running up to her sister's side. "Did you hear me?"
That could've been me. Another life seemed to be unfolding itself before Cloudwhisker's eyes. It was her grooming the kits, her bringing them treats, her keeping them warm even through the bitterest nights of leaf-bare. The judging looks, whispered words, stark disapproval-it might've been worth it. Cloudwhisker didn't know. It was too late to wonder.
The kits didn't know any better. The mother they knew treated them like her own, and they clearly had bright futures ahead of them. They'd be successful. Happy. Isn't that the most important thing?
"I-I'm coming, Ivystripe," Cloudwhisker called out to her sister, who had gone to leave by herself. After one last look at the kits-her kits-she turned her back on the nursery and followed Ivystripe out of the camp.
Goodbye.