Drift sat the kit down, and took a second to taste the air. The pine trees surrounding her made her think she was heading the right way, but it was hard to tell. Everything looked the same too her here.
The scent confirmed it. After a day of walking and stopping to nurse every ten minutes, she was finally close to a-
No, friend wasn't the right word. Non-enemy was closer to the truth.
She didn't like her idea, especially when the corner of the housefolk den came into view. She'd much rather raise the kit on her own, until it was strong and able to be on it's own. But that wouldn't work.
Besides, it was too late now. Those two could tell if a mouse scurried across their garden from a monster's length away. Any second now one would come dashing out from behind the fence, ready to pounce until they saw it was her.
At least, she hoped they'd stop.
Just as she predicted, Jacques came leaping over the fence with claws outstretched, ready to claw the muzzle off of whoever set paw in his territory. He stopped just short of her, his eyes widening as he saw the kit.
"Well, Drift. You've been busy since I've last seen you."
She swallowed a growl, and set the kit between her paws.
"Not now, Jack. I want to talk to Susan."
"It's Jacques," He huffed, "And I'm in charge around here, not you, missy. You'll tell me what you want to say and I'll decide whether or not it's worth our time."
Drift could find several flaws in that logic, but she held her tongue. Angering Jacques would do nothing but hurt her. But Susan would listen, and if she knew anything, she would be out soon now that she'd heard her name.
"Jacques, I'm in charge, and don't you forget it. " Susan growled, as she squeezed through a hole in the fence.
Drift turned to face the other she cat. "Susan, I need to ask you a favor."
"And I take it it has something to do with that kit?"
She nodded tersely. "I don't think I can take care of it. The rest of the litter was-"
abandoned
She swallowed hard. "Stolen. I can't protect this one with the bone eaters that stole the others around. And I'd like to train it, but I'm not sure if I can adequately train only one kit with no one it's age."
She was making up reasons now, but she had to convince them. She couldn't find a mate, have another litter,with a kit dangling from her jaw.
"And you want me and Jacques to give it to our housefolk to raise." Susan mewed, betraying no emotion.
"Well, not exactly. I'd like you and Jack to raise it, train it. So it can take care of itself when it's old enough." She replied, her mew dropping off a bit at the end.
Susan stared at her for a full five seconds, before purring uncontrollably. The noise made the kit between her paws whimper and mewl, and Jacques began to purr as well. All the noises culminated into a dull, throbbing ache at the base of her head,that spread out until it clouded her vision.
"Susan," She began, her words more growl than mew, "This isn't a joke. If you aren't going to take me seriously…"
"But Drift," She panted, "How can I take you seriously when you're being ridiculous? If you want me to burden myself with the upbringing of a kit, keeping it from my housefolk, training it, for seasons, you're going to have to offer me some incentive."
Drift fidgeted a bit.
"I suppose I could bring you prey, or something…" She trailed off. How should she know what this cat wanted from her?
"Oh, no, dear. I know what I want, and it's not as mundane as that."
"Well, what is it?"
"I want the kit." Susan mewed.
"But, Susan, that was the original…" She began.
"No. Your offer was that you give me and Jacques the kit, and we do your job for you until you feel like you want the kit back. I want you to give me this kit, do raise how I see fit. You won't have any say in what I do, and the kit will remain mine."
Drift wanted to turn away, to scream at this waste of a cat for daring to ask such a thing of her.
But she didn't.
"Sure," she mewed, feigning disinterest. "Take him." She nudged the kit over with a paw.
Susan backed up.
"Oh no you don't. You're going to stay here and nurse that kit until it's weaned. Then I'll take over."
The words fell on her, registering but failing to impact. Surely she wouldn't be leaving as soon as the kit could survive without her… but one thing registered.
"We keep calling him 'kit'. I was thinking of calling him Branch." She mewed.
"Nonsense. My kit will be called something better. Jacques, do you like Rumble?" Susan mewed.
"Fine with me." He mewed. As he walked past Drift, he turned to her and mewed:
"You can nurse him and sleep in the flowers." before leaping back over the fence.
Drift picked her- No, Susan's kit up, and stood for a moment. Was she really being regulated to nothing more than a wet nurse for her own kit?
You chose this, she reminded herself.
Susan's mew broke into her thoughts.
"Oh, stop looking so upset. Rumble'll be fine with us. I mean, we did alright with you."
Her bleary eyes opened to the sight of another kit staring down at her.
"Hi! Your eyes are open! Do you wanna go play?" It said.
She opened her mouth, and squeaked out a few words. "Who are you?"
"I'm Rainkit, silly! You're Dapplekit, and those sleepy furballs are Tawnykit and Adderkit. Mama's name is Cinderheart."
Mama? She looked around, and her eyes came to rest on a big cat curled around her, providing a constant warmth she'd hardly noticed.
"Mama's big." Dapplekit mewed, a bit in awe.
"I know," Rainkit purred. "You should see some of the other warriors. Bramblestar's huge, too!"
Mama's head turned, her own eyes blinking open slowly.
"Hello, Dapplekit. It's nice to see you with your eyes open!"
Her eyes shifted over the pair.
"I suppose you two want to go explore now." She sighed.
Rainkit nodded vigorously, and Dapplekit followed.
"Well, I suppose you can go out, but stay where I can see you until your brothers wake up."
"Yay! Come on, Dapplekit!"
Rainkit dashed out of the den, with Dapplekit close on her heels. Cinderheart"s mews to be careful faded into background noise as the hustle and bustle of the camp took over.
Even sitting just out of the mouth of the nursery, it was a bit overwhelming. So many cats, more than she thought could exist, moved around the hollow. Every now and then one would call out a hello, one even stopped to nuzzle them.
But they weren't in any danger of filling up the camp like they would the nursery. Camp was huge. Tall stone walls, so high over her head they scraped sky, guarded every side. The camp itself seemed to stretch on forever, so long she be exhausted if she tried to walk across.
"Woah." Rainkit mewed, before dashing off.
"Rainkit!" She squeaked out, "Cinderheart told us to stay…" She was long gone.
Dapplekit had no choice:
She dashed off in pursuit of her sister.
AN/ This chapter was fun to write. Sorry it took a while to get published, though. School project was eating my life. (also, sorry about the overabundance of exclamation points. Kits are hard to write.)