The sun filtered through the moss-covered walls, stuck together with dark mud and burrs that failed to block the light of the morning sun. It radiated on the bodies of the sleeping cats in the nursery. There were two queens: a slim and pretty white she-cat with six kits splattered by her side and a spotted she-cat who lie there with a swollen belly. The kits by the white she-cat's side were already awake and squirming around.
"Featherfall! Featherfall!" they squealed, prodding at their mother, "Wake up, Featherfall!"
"Come play!" a grey she-kit nosed her mom vigorously, her tail curling in delight.
As the clammer of kits beared too much for the she-cat, Featherfall, she opened her eyes and emitted a growl.
"I'm not playing with you." she snapped, her whiskers twitching in anger, "Let me sleep or I'll claw your ears off."
The kits immediately shrank back. the second she-cat, Blossomthorn, pricked up her ears as her bright amber gaze narrowed at the mother's behavior towards her own kits.
Blossomthorn's head lifted up as she gazed at the six kits with pity glittering in her orbs. the queen's whiskers twitched, "Why don't you play mossball?" she purred.
"Mossball?" one if the kits inquired, the oldest, a tabby tom, "What's mossball?"
"Oh, here!" the calico pulled out some of the soft substance from her nest and tangled it up to form a more rounded edge, "It's a game where you bat it back and forth." she explained, "Doesn't that sound like fun?"
A majority of the kits cried in joy. A gray tom with white patches sprinted forward to take the moss in his mouth.
"Spiritkit!" a gray she-kit cried, bounding after the tom, "No fair!"
"Life isn't fair, Cloudkit!" Spiritkit teased.
As the kits tussled back and forth, Blossomthorn watched them with a gleam in her eye, a wave of happiness and delight as she couldn't wait for the arrival of her own kits.
However, she counted one missing. Her ears flicked back, her mind recounting all the happy and jumping kits before she realized who was missing out.
Runtkit.
Blossomthorn didn't waste much time searching for her, as she found the small she-kit by her mother, back turned to her siblings.
The spotted queen blinked, shuffling over to the she-kit. Blossomthorn hated Runtkit's name, and she was sure many would agree with her. It was a cruel name, and many mentioned it to Featherfall, but the mother couldn't seem to be bothered with her kit's business and refused to change it.
She crouched down to gaze at the overly small kit.
"Hey, Runtkit." she mewed, blinking in a friendly manner towards the small thing, "Why don't you play with your siblings?"
Runtkit, almost a spitting image of her mother with fluffy white fur and mismatched eyes, the only exception being the overly long tail that seemed to be bigger than Runtkit herself, which flicked in annoyance at this large cat talking to her. She didn't say anything but let her displeasure leak through her expression.
Blossomthorn continued, still looking kindly at her, "Look how much fun they're-" she was abruptly interuptted by a brisk mew.
"No." Runtkit spoke, sharp-tongued as she drew her gaze away, "I don't want to play."
And the expecting queen didn't know how to react. What was she supposed to do when a kit didn't want to play? Usually, it was the other way around with the small things bouncing round and round with enough energy to fill the forest that she'll need to tell to calm down. But this kit was refusing to go anywhere. Blossomthorn had never actually conversed with the kit as it stayed plastered to Featherfall's side, as much as she pushed the poor thing away. Since she was a late bloomer, she had thought maybe that she would develop into more playful and kitlike behaviour. Obviously, this wasn't the case.
"Doesn't that look like fun?" Blossomthorn softly mewed, attempting to coax some conversation or reaction out of her. As Runtkit's eyes followed the kits tussling back and forth, Tabbykit now battling Whitekit for a leadership position, they narrowed into slits even more.
"No." Runtkit repeated, annoyance clear across her face.
Blossomthorn blinked in surprise. She supposed she might as well leave it. The queen gently twitched her whiskers as she retreated back to her nest, beaten by the stubborn Runtkit.
Runtkit didn't care about Blossomthorn. She didn't care about her littermates. The only thing she held an ounce of respect for was her mother. She glanced over at the sleeping Featherfall. She was told she looked too much like her mom. Her siblings had features that accentuated them from each other and their ancestry. Not Runtkit.
She didn't resemble her father as far as she knew. With all the cats poking in and out of the nursery and all their gushing on how she was just a "mini Featherfall", it got to her. With her large attitude and sharp tongue as such a young age, the comments worsened and got more common on how she acted exactly like Featherfall. Runtkit had fluffy white fur and an overly lithe and small body. The one thing that drove everybody's quips, however, were her eyes. Runtkit had large almond-shaped eyes that were mismatched in color, her right eye being green and her left eye being blue that resembled her mother's own orbs.
She saw Whitekit, the biggest of the five, with his white fur that was tipped with gray and a gray dash upon his nose. She saw Creamkit, the second tallest, with dark gray spots on her thin white fur. She saw Cloudkit, her whole pelt pale gray with her white muzzle, chest, and belly. She saw Spiritkit, white with a dark gray spot on his back. She saw Tabbykit, a dark gray tabby. She saw it and she hated it.
Runtkit's own thoughts echoed out the song of kits shrieking in joy, her face screwed in pondering, when a small voice overpowered the pandemonium of blocked-out sounds.
"...can't believe we'll be apprentices with Featherfall's noisy lot..." it spoke, and immediately Runtkit's deep thought was shattered as the kit-like curiosity replaced it. She strained to hear more, whirling her head to the source of the sound.
Two tall apprentices, both Siamese cats, walking side by side. Runtkit recognized them as Charredmask's litter, Aspenpaw and Acornpaw. The small she-kit then let it get the best of her as she hopped over Featherfall and out of the nursery, undetected as Featherfall slept soundly and Blossomthorn turned her attention to her littermates.
Aspenpaw, the brother of the twins, spoke more, "I know, right? It's going to be a disaster!" he jeered, a purr of laughter rumbling in his throat. Runtkit's face returned to it's sour scowl as she could hear their taunts towards them, moving closer.
Acornpaw, the sister, began to open her jaws to continue their verbal assault when she caught glimpse of the small kit with her fur fluffed up in anger, looking quite ridiculous. Her blue eyes glittered, and immediately Runtkit fought the urge to claw her.
"Look, Aspenpaw!" Acornpaw cackled, her whiskers trembling in amusement, "It's the runt!"
The tall Siamese brother turned to look at Runtkit with the same expression that Acornpaw had, "Shouldn't you be in the nursery, kit?" he taunted, lowering his head to meet her eyes. Runtkit bristled even more, which seemed even more comical to them as they snorted even before she could retort.
"I'm almost an apprentice!" Runtkit spat back, "You're more of a kit than me!"
Aspenpaw purred as his sister snickered beside him, "So what they say is true." he said, "You do have quite a mouth, runt."
The white she-kit was angered further. They were so annoying, acting as if they were warriors already. Runtkit lashed her tail angrily as she hissed in his face, rage running through her brain and occupying her which allowed her inability to make rational thoughts.
Aspenpaw took this as a win as he grinned wickedly. "Why don't you go back to the nursery, kit?" he hissed as Runtkit's fury drove her to snarl and just storm back where she had come, and the uptight snickers she heard behind her fueled her escape.
She heard buzzing, and stopping in her tracks in all of her anger, she snapped at the air. Already riled up by the snobby twins, she just wanted everything to cease. The noise drew out, longer, and longer, so Runtkit kept swiping at the air for the noise.
And the bee that emitted its buzzing drove its stinger right into her nose.
The pain hurt, but Runtkit didn't whine. Instead, she got angrier. She wanted to snap at that stupid bee that made her nose swell up. The thing that drove her to the point of madness was the fact that Aspenpaw and Acornpaw probably saw the whole ordeal. Runtkit could only imagine them standing there, laughing as she was carried off by a gentle warrior.
Seedfang, the medicine cat, gently applied the cool herb paste on her nose. Runtkit just stayed upset and quiet.
"Does it hurt?" the black tom mewed gently. She glared up at him roughly, her ears pinning against her cranium as her tail tip twitched.
"Alright then." Seedfang sighed, "Runtkit, you're going to be fine. Just try to take it easy. The swelling should cool down in a couple of days."
Runtkit was never angrier. When she went back into the nursery, she was greeted with the clutter of her own littermates, bombarding her with questions. Blossomthorn went on and on about how she was sorry she wasn't paying attention. Runtkit didn't care.
But as she took a hopeful look at Featherfall, all that she could see was no expression beneath her reflection. All she could see was disappointment and no concern.
"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey, join beneath the high ledge for a clan meeting." Barkstar yowled.
Runtkit had heard of mothers rushing to try and contain their excited kits, tumbling over each other and squirming so that they have to contain them in order to lap at their heads lovingly and fix them up before the ceremony. And it was supposed to be the norm. But Featherfall didn't care. She had snapped as Blossomthorn for waking her up to remind her of her kits' apprentice ceremony and was now absent from the nursery.
Runtkit hated Blossomthorn. She loathed the way she acted like their mother, and she especially disliked the fact that the spotted molly was rasping her tongue around Creamkit's ears to flatten the fur.
She wasn't her mother. She never will be.
Even Whitekit and Tabbykit, who had developed loner personalities, sat idle as she nosed down tufts of fur.
They gathered, cats of all shapes and shades hurriedly rushing beneath the Highledge, where the large dark tom stood tall, his sparkling amber eyes scanning over them. Despite Runtkit's rather negative attitude, she couldn't force down the tingle of excitement that rushed through her veins. However, a spark of annoyance graced her as her littermates joined, completely blocking the small she-cat. As the ceremony started, Runtkit growled and wedged herself between two of her siblings to watch, shooting them dirty glares.
"Today, we will have three new warriors and five apprentices." Barkstar announced, his head turning to the side, "First, our warriors. Hawkpaw, Berrypaw, and Whisperpaw please come forward."
And as he spoke, Runtkit caught glimpse of the littermates stepping forward. A ripple of excited whispers followed through the crowd behind her and she flicked her ear.
"You three have fully completed your warrior training and are ready to go onto the next step of your journey. Do you three promise to stay loyal and defend your clan until your last breath? To provide before yourselves and to uphold your honor?" Barkstar recited.
"Yes." They all answered.
And so he concluded: "Then from now on, Hawkpaw, you will be known as Hawkflight. Berrypaw, you will be called Berryclaw. And Whisperpaw, your new name is Whispermask. The clan recognizes your skills and respects you fully."
Then it came. The loud cheers of "Berryclaw! Hawkflight! Whispermask!" Sweeping across the crowds. She felt the cats around her scream their names, while she herself was quiet and impatiently twitching.
"And now, for our apprentices." Barkstar's gaze softened as he looked down upon the cluster of old kits on the base of the high rock, "When I call your name, step forward."
Tabbypaw was first. Then Whitepaw. Then Creampaw, Cloudpaw, Spiritpaw, and finally, Barkstar's eyes bore into hers.
"Runtkit." Barkstar meowed, and her head was spinning. It was really happening. She was really going to be an apprentice. Runtkit could barely breath as she hopped up, her eyes solely focused on the leader.
"Your new name shall be Beepaw." Her heart stopped, "And your mentor is Foxclaw. The clan honors..."
But she couldn't hear him with all the blood pounding in her ears. Her vision blurred and as she unconsciously stepped forward to touch noses with the dark-furred she-cat. Her face was blank.
But in reality, Beepaw was raging.