Sootkit yelped, tumbling across the soft grass of RiverClan camp. She ended up flat on her back, a gentle breeze tickling her downy belly. She felt the presence of two black, once-amber —or so the warriors claimed— eyes boring into her back, heard the rustling bramble that announced a sylphlike figure retreating into the confines of the nursery.

The dark gray kitten was quickly bombarded in a mass of ginger fur, its owner her own size but with the pelt a perfect mirror of...

...of that monster. Sootkit shook her head, chasing away the thought, flipped over, and landed neatly on her paws. The first thing she saw after tearing her gaze from the cloud-swept sky was her sister's eyes, peering into her own. The she-kit could see herself reflected in the shimmering light of that gaze she knew so well.

The... the adults said that her eyes were once like Oakkit's. Now that she was actually studying said Oakkit's shimmering eyes, all she could think was, they must have been pretty.

She opened her mouth to break the silence and say something, anything. But Oakkit, with the loquacity she so loved, beat her to it.

"I'm so sorry!" the cream-colored she-kit yelped, fur puffed up and tail whipping about. Once those three words were spoken, the kit went on a harangue, her anger seemingly pointed towards herself. "If I hadn't told you that it was okay and you can get close to her and everything would be all right and she was finally warming up then you wouldn't be hurt like this and—! Are you okay?"

"What does it look like?" Sootkit asked. Seeing her sister's expression, she hurriedly added, "Not sarcastically. I seriously can't feel my muzzle."

Oakkit craned her neck to get a good view of Sootkit's face. She gave it a quick lick, meowing, "I don't think it's that bad."

"Oh, good."

"Are you going to tell Blackpetal?"

If it was anyone else, Sootkit would have snapped at them, muttered something like I don't need her help, I can take care of myself! or Don't be stupid, why should I bother her over something like this?

But this was Oakkit, so all she said was a simple: "No."

"Don't want to worry her?"

"Something like that."

"It was going so well, too." The ginger tabby nodded in sympathy as Sootkit glanced over to the nursery.

Blackpetal said... she said that once, Doestep had told her, "I need to be strong. For my kits." When she was in labor, I think, that's what Blackpetal'd said. She said giving birth to kits was painful. And that Doestep stayed strong the whole way.

Huh, not the Doestep I know.

But a more quiet voice inside her cried out, longingly, But she said kits! Not kit, not just Oakkit, but both of us...

It had been so good, for those shining few days. First, the crazed queen had lessened on the "crazed" and increased on the "queen" part. She'd stop yelling at Sootkit every time she turned around at night because she couldn't sleep. She stopped muttering about lying scum and stupid ThunderClan dung and all that. No more phillipics or contempt.

Then, Oakkit had invited Sootkit back to their nest —which she'd been "exiled" out of, causing her to either sleep alone or with Blackpetal whenever possible— and their mother didn't protest. Didn't do anything!"

And then, Doestep had licked her. Around the ears. Pulled her close. She hadn't been sleeping, or dazed, or affected in any way to make her do that. Sootkit, for the first time in her entire life from the moment she'd remembered, had been introduced to affection from a blood relative. It had hypnotized her. Made her woozy, made her think that everything was okay...

And reality slammed into her, a powerful blow; it only stung a little, physically, but was pretty much crippling emotionally. All she'd done was say her mother's name.

Well, in a way, at least. She'd tried to stay "Doestep", but her voice caught in the middle of the word, and Sootkit ended up saying "Doe".

That was when Doestep went absolutely raging. She spat at her kit, screeched insults that should never be spoken to someone so young, and everything went back to normal, if not worse.

It was such cruelty, the product of fate's sadistic whims —or perhaps it had been just a cold, or whatever made her throat unable to speak. Everything had seemed to be going her way, a first since a literal forever, and then it all came tumbling back down.

"Sootkit?" Her sister was prodding her with a paw.

"Yeah?"

"I've been stupid."

Sootkit's eyes rounded. Oakkit was one for bragging meows and and puffed-up chests, not a puddle of self-hatred like most cats. If she insulted herself, it was surely serious. "You have?"

"I... wasn't being a good sister," the ginger kit mewed awkwardly. "I'd keep listenin' to Mom. I thought... I thought, 'if she loves me, surely she loves Sootkit too!'. Or maybe I was selfish and I just wanted her to love me, so I followed her. 'Cause she didn't love you. Just me."

There was a slight hesitation, and then she added, "And that made me feel special."

Sootkit didn't respond. You are special, you don't need her for that, she thought. But speaking things like that was hard for kits to do, and she didn't find the right moment to say it. Oakkit barreled on.

"So, er, I'm gonna try and be better. And I won't listen to Mom 'nymore. You're my littermate. You're important."

"Am I?" The gray she-kit certainly didn't feel important. "I... you've already been nice. You were never mean to me like Doestep, and you'd always pass me some feathers from your nest when I was cold."

"That's not enough. The whole Clan would do that for you in a heartbeat," Oakkit meowed. "You have plenty of friends, you know."

Sootkit couldn't help but glance at the elder's den, where a certain golden apprentice would be carrying out his punishment for getting into some mishap including several frogs and a butterfly.

"I gotta be your friend, too. Good company for you." The tabby blinked at Sootkit, who purred in response.

"Of course. We're good company, you and me."

"And we'll be like that forever. You'll see, Sootkit! I won't let Mom control me, not ever."

Oakkit gave her an innocent, sincere feline smile, one that Sootkit couldn't help but return. She felt the oxymoron of her numb-but-stinging muzzle fade away into warmth. She lifted her head. She didn't need any blood mother. She had Blackpetal. She even had Dustpaw.

And, of course, she had her sister.

Forever.