Broken Shells
Prologue:
"Momma! Mommy! Tell us the story again! The one about StarClan again!" The shrill, song-like mew squealed.
The voice belonged to a small cream-colored she-kit. Her light green eyes stared brightly at her mother, a beautiful orange and white tabby. Another pair of eyes watched the she-kit, a young rust-colored tom no older than the she-kit. His amber irises shut in anticipation; he had learned his lesson two sunrises ago. It was time his sister did too.
Almost immediately, the orange and white tabby's amber gaze hardened and her lean figure tensed. Swiftly, she smacked her daughter harshly with a sheathed paw across the face. A cry of hurt escaped the young she-kit's jaws, earning another glare from her mother.
"Shellkit, manners." She said, exasperation dribbling from her tone.
The little she-kit bowed her head, her eyes staring at the soft, springy bedding beneath her paws. "Sorry, mama-"
"Mother. Call me Mother in private, Shellkit," she corrected, her eyes flickering toward the orange tom-kit. "Dewkit, what do you both call me in the presence of other cats?"
"Softbreeze, Mother." Dewkit answered quickly, his crafted voice slick and smooth; he never missed a beat anymore.
Softbreeze nodded her approval, "Excellent, my son."
The deep, brownish kit dipped his little head in acknowledgement, but said nothing more.
Softbreeze's attention redirected itself on Shellkit. "Shellkit, what will you say when you wish to be told a legend?" She asked, watching her hunched figure as she steadily recovered from the blow her mother had dealt.
Shellkit hesitantly turned her head upwards, making the mistake of watching Softbreeze's chest. The orange and white tabby shoved Shellkit once more, earning another squeal from the cream she-kit. Softbreeze stared angrily at her daughter, "Are you trying to provoke me, Shellkit? Sit up straight, and look me in the eye when you speak toward me. Do not squeal either, take your blows and fall with grace. No more of this stumbling."
The young she-kit fought against her trembling body, rolling back onto her paws. "Y-yes-"
Her mother's eyes flashed, "No stuttering, Shellkit! Would you like to take a walk with Rosestar? Do you remember Dovekit?"
Shellkit's eyes widened, she was about to shake her head rapidly, but remembered what had happened last time she'd done that. She forced a controlled shake of the head. "No, Mother. I do not want- wish, I do not wish to take a walk with Rosestar." She said, her voice shaky as she spoke.
"Dovekit, the imperfect she-kit? You do not remember her, daughter?" Softbreeze prompted.
Her kit-blue eyes nearly drifted away from her mother's as she fought against looking down. "No, Mother." She mumbled.
"No mumbling, Shellkit. Confidence is key if you ever want to be like Rosestar and have a mate like Timberstar." Softbreeze chided. "Now, Dovekit was a kit who was nearly of five moons. She was far too stocky for even a male kit, her thick fur was wiry and coarse, and her tail was stumpy. Hideous, that she-kit was. The SisterClan couldn't present a she-cat like that to the BrotherClan. That's why Rosestar took her on the walk to cleanse our clan of her imperfections. Just because you are blessed with a petite and lithe form doesn't mean your manners cannot get you expelled from the SisterClan."
Shellkit nearly whimpered in fear of being expelled, put in the mercy of the wild, but fought it back. "I will behave better, Mother. I will become the next head she-cat, Mother. I promise."
"You'd better, Shellkit. When I was an apprentice, I fought hard. Hard to become graceful enough to somehow replace the former head cats' kit, Rosestar. But blood is incredibly important, Shellkit and Dewkit. I did not have a chance against a she-cat who had founding blood roaring through her veins. I had to settle for a lesser position with a lesser cat for a mate." She said bitterly.
"Dewkit, you don't have a chance at becoming the head of the BrotherClan; you will have a lesser she-cat with a lesser rank. However, Shellkit, Rosestar's and Timberstar's first-borne was a tom, Scorchkit. He is scheduled to become an apprentice at the same time as you.
"Your task, my only request as your mother, is to win. Become the most graceful, swift, beautiful, and intelligent she-cat in the SisterClan's Apprentice Wing. Let Rosestar select you for her son. Do that, and you will impress me, make me glad to call you daughter." Softbreeze said sternly, boring holes into Shellkit's pelt.
"Of course, Mother. I can do that." Shellkit said, her squeaky voice somewhat confident.
"Excellent, now with that out of the way, I must ask you another question. When Timberstar and your father, Icefang, come tomorrow to take Dewkit to the BrotherClan, what will you say?" Softbreeze asked.
Shellkit blinked and breathed in deeply, she had been dreading that day for moons. The day when Dewkit would leave with Icefang and Timberstar to train in the brotherhood while she trained in the sisterhood. She loved her brother, Dewkit; he was her best friend.
She turned to face Dewkit, knowing that if she couldn't do it for practice that she wouldn't be able to say goodbye properly before her father and Timberstar. "Dewkit, my brother. I wish you good fortune on your journey into the brotherhood. We shall meet again in the Joint-Camp once we achieve warrior status, until then, I bid you farewell my brother." Shellkit recited, her eyes misty as she realized Dewkit would only be sleeping beside her one night more.
Softbreeze nodded her approval, "Well done. Shellkit, you will be a great she-cat one day, you just need to drop the silliness you have." Her gaze moved to Dewkit. "And Dewkit, what will you say to Timberstar and Icefang tomorrow morning? Then what will you tell Shellkit and me?"
Shellkit tuned her brother out as he spoke about his long speech he would be making tomorrow. He practiced over and over, day and day. The little she-kit had been more interested in how to make it to apprentice-hood in one piece. Her mother was raising her sharply, ironing out every crease, every flaw she possessed. No kitten ever cared about their final status until training actually began; it just wasn't something they would think about. Manners, now that kits thought about. Kits were expected to have near-perfect manners by the time they left the nursery for the Apprentice Wings.
"Excellent. You are ready, my son." Softbreeze announced, pride in her gaze.
Bitterness bubbled within Shellkit as she watched her mother praise her brother. Dewkit didn't have such high expectations. Shellkit wished Scorchkit was a she-kit, then Softbreeze would go easier on her.
If only life as a clan cat was simpler.
Heyo! So I know this wasn't really a prologue, but it was more of a prologue than a chapter in my opinion if that makes any sense. So it's a prologue. Anyhow, I came up with this idea while I was working on the next chapter for Pride, and I couldn't bear to part with it (put it up for adoption) so I wrote it. (:
~Spotty