Disclaimer: I don't own the Warrior Cats series!
Title: Berry Paint
Summary: Sandkit wants to look pretty for his apprentice ceremony, so he wears berry paint; Lightkit feels alone in RiverClan for her messy pelt and gruff demeanor, save for two elders, and strives to outdo Rosepaw; Hoptail's known who they are all along, but they're hesitant to tell their mate, Mintpelt; and Smallkit of ShadowClan is scared to face who he really is- is it a tom at all?
Chapter Title: Nutjaw (Sheepkit)
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The-Purple-Panda-Frog- Thanks! I really like writing it, as you've seen from my recent updating.
MagaNerd- it was really cute!
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Nutjaw wriggled her hips and pounced, expertly snatching a squirrel with her claws, tilting her head to give it the killing blow. The scent of Newleaf made her want to roll in the grass like a kit again, but she forced down the urge, padding through the bushes to meet up with the hunting patrol with her catch. It's not nearly as fun without Brownstep.
Clawpelt had snagged a sparrow, while Grayscreech has successfully captured a shrew. Nutjaw pushed the memory of Brownstep away, taking pride that her's was the biggest.
"Nice catch." Grayscreech teased, flicking his tail over her nose. "Is this for anybody special?"
She set the prey down, meowing politely. "It's for the Clan, as all fresh-kill is."
Nutjaw knew, deep down, that she should be searching for a mate by now. After all, Brownstep's last moons had been happier with Rowantooth in her life, and Cryowl doted on Sandpetal constantly, and vice versa. And even if she wasn't interested in a ThunderClan cat, she could always do what Silverblaze had done. Without a mate, the she-cat looked ready to explode any day now from the kits swelling her belly.
But that's just not me, she reflected, trailing behind the group. Dawn was starting to glow over the horizon, warming her damp pelt. None of that is me.
It wasn't that no one interested her; simply that she didn't have interest in the first place. She recognized love, and realized how important it was- for all his faults, Rowantooth had loved her sister beyond all means, and was devastated now that she was gone- but it almost didn't seem to apply to her.
Surely, if that wasn't how it should be, StarClan wouldn't have made me this way? I may never have kits, but I'll be so busy training apprentices it won't matter.
Speaking of. Nutjaw slid into camp, setting her squirrel on the pile. By now Graykit would've slipped away to visit Crowear, leaving Sheepkit with nothing to do. She had done her best to train the kit these past few moons, throwing moss balls for her to grab and correcting her stalking crouch, and she was fairly certain she was itching to go into the forest.
Not much longer now!
Sheepkit sat quivering next to the nursery entrance, pelt perfectly groomed and shiny. Sandpetal had struck again, from the looks of it. She jumped up and met her halfway, tail bushing out.
"What are we doing today?" She asked.
"I thought we'd work on the barrier." Nutjaw flicked her tail towards to the thick wall of brambles and bracken. "Leaf-bare might've destroyed parts of it. We need to decide what to keep and what to toss."
Sheepkit, Nutjaw had quickly realized, was an avid learner like her sister, and took on any task with gusto. Even rearranging moss hadn't drawn a complaint from her muzzle, although she thought that might change once she began to learn battle moves.
They checked the bottom first, doing a circle around camp. Tiny bits had frozen or gone limp, leaving lots of holes to patch up, but they weren't big enough for intruders to push through. They worked their way up from there, discussing the upcoming apprentice ceremony and Silverblaze's upcoming kitting as they balanced on the log that housed the warriors. Nutjaw told Sheepkit the different smells and leaves she'd touched that morning, while Sheepkit told her about the scrap of yarrow she'd accidentally licked off Graykit's pelt.
"Did you get another piece of prey?"
"Sandpetal forced me to." Sheepkit looked mildly ill just thinking about it. "I'm never sharing tongues with her again."
Nutjaw remembered the softness of kit-fur like it was just yesturday, the warm milk of their mother and a tongue rasping against her paw. A small body next to her in the medicine den. A burst of nostalgia filled her chest, and for a brief moment she missed Brownstep so much it was an ache.
"Nutjaw?" Sheepkit asked. She'd stop moving.
"You'll miss her." She grunted gravely, grinding her mishmashed teeth together. "Maybe not now, but one day."
Sheepkit pressed her pelt to Nutjaw's and didn't reply.
Gotta lighten this up, she glanced rapidly around, then flattened herself against the rough surface of the log. "Climb up."
"Is it safe?"
"Don't jerk around and you'll be fine."
Sheepkit hesitantly crawled onto her back. Nutjaw felt her legs begin to ache. A six-moon old kit was much heavier than she expected. "Alright, going up."
She stood on the very tips of her paws, then advised her to do the same. She heard a quiet intake of breath. "I can see the forest! Well, part of it, anyway."
"You'll be out in it soon enough." Nutjaw promised.
"Nutjaw?"
She flinched, staggering to keep Sheepkit on her back. Rowantooth was glaring up at them, tail thrashing.
"Whoops." She meowed.
"I think we're in trouble." Sheepkit whispered.
Nutjaw leapt down, kit carefully held in her muzzle. She set her on the ground and faced the warrior, bracing herself for his wrath. "Hello, Rowantooth."
"She shouldn't be up there!" He hissed, fur spiked with fear. "Don't you remember what happened to the last kit who climbed that high?"
"Of course I do. It was me." She rubbed her jaw with the back of her paw. "But she was supervised, and I made sure we were safe." Nutjaw sent the little one a look; she was staring at her paws, tail wrapped tightly around them. "She's been very helpful. Most warriors aren't half as good at spotting holes as she is."
As expected, Rowantooth softened somewhat, taking pride in his kit's accomplishments. "She's not a 'paw yet, Nutjaw. Don't let her up there again."
She submissively dipped her head. Rowantooth is her father- I can't exactly argue boundaries with him. "I will."
"Good. Come on, Sheepkit. Let's eat dinner together." He sent her one last reproachful look before herding the she-cat away. Nutjaw left them be, joining a final border patrol before curling up in her nest, exhausted.
Did you see Sheepkit today, Brownstep? She's so grown-up now, and looks more like her father by the day. Graykit is your spitting image- except, well, gray. She shifted with a sigh. I'll do my best to make sure your kin live on, Brownstep. Just don't hate me for not being there to fight with you.
The camp is awoken early by a shriek.
Rocknose stretched, nudging Nutjaw with the very tip of her paw. "Looks like Silverblaze is kitting. Let's go get her some prey for after she's done."
They return with a mouse each. Rowantooth was pacing the clearing, no doubt remembering Brownstep's kitting. His tail was waving all over the place. Sheepkit was sneakily trying to pick her way up the bark of the warrior log again, but Nutjaw pulled her down. "Unless you want your warrior name to be Sheepjaw, I wouldn't suggest it."
She at least had the sense to look guilty. "Sorry. I wanted to see the forest."
"You'll see it at Sunhigh." Clawpelt reminded her tersely, washing his side. It had been many moons since new kits flooded the camp, and everyone was anxious to meet the little ones. "Crowear has enough on her paws as is. She doesn't need a kit falling."
Graykit stumbled out soon after, limping. There's a gash on her left arm, close to the shoulder. Despite this, her eyes are gleaming. "She did it!" Congratulations swelled the clearing.
Rowantooth bent to clean the cut, eyes worried. "What happened?"
"Huh? Oh, that." She shrugged. "She had a spasm and caught me by accident with her back paw. She wasn't trying, honest."
Sheepkit crept up to sniff it. "Lucky!" She wailed enviously. "We're not even apprentices yet and you got a cool battle scar!"
"You'll get one soon." Graykit meowed good-naturedly, purring. "And I'll be the one to fix it up!"
"Not if I can help it." Their father growled, eyeing them both with love.
Crowear padded into the clearing and stretched, looking pleased. "Two healthy toms and a healthy queen. Hasn't been this nice in ages."
"Silverblaze must be pleased." Nutjaw said, although she couldn't imagine how having two kits depending on you for every breath would be anything but stressful.
"Right now? She's tired." The medicine cat snorted. "She asked to see you."
Me? Confused, Nutjaw dipped her head and slid inside. Sandpetal was beginning to grow, and she felt incredibly pleased to see him snoring in the corner, plump once again. The bushes were returning, and purple paint was drying in his pelt. It's nice to see him back to normal.
"Nutjaw?" Silverblaze whispered, gesturing with her tail to come closer. Her fur was ragged and she looked like she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but her eyes glowed. "Look."
She drew her tail away. Two bundles of fur lay curled by her belly, suckling. One was the color of Newleaf ground, rich and solid. He looked like he'd be an even darker shade of brown than her. The other was lithe, with sleek black fur.
"I hope they were worth all that effort," She joked, siting down. They'll make for good warriors.
"That and more." She purred, licking the black one's little head. "I think I'll name him Blackkit."
A family of colors, Nutjaw thought, amused. "Hello, Blackkit. Welcome to ThunderClan."
"I know, I know. You've got more important things to do than listen to a queen name her kits," Silverblaze apologized. She bowed her head humbly. "I called you in to ask- with your permission- if I may have the honor of naming Blackkit's brother after Brownstep."
Nutjaw's mind fell blank. She stared at the little bark-pelt tom whose mother wanted to be named after her sister, taken too soon, and recalled Brownstep's reasoning behind the naming of her own kits.
"Rowantooth named her Graykit because he liked the color, but I named Sheepkit for a special reason-" she bent to whisper in her ear, giggling as her newborn kits slept- "I like sheep."
"No kiddin'." She chuckled.
"But I never got to see one. Now I have. My own darling, Sheepkit. I want Sheepkit to follow her dreams, like I have. I want you to follow your dreams, too."
"Dreams?"
"Yes. Every day I watch you become someone new, Nutjaw. Someone brave and noble; someone with an ambition." A pause filled with nuzzling. "Let's both follow our dreams, okay? It'll set a good example for my daughters- our kin."
"Nutjaw? Did I go too far?"
Nutjaw shook herself. She bent to touch her nose to the scrap of fur. "Brownstep would have loved to have a kit named after her."
"May I, then?"
"Only on the condition that you name him for the warrior, not the cat who died."
Silverblaze pressed her muzzle to her ear. "I will. Thank you, Nutjaw. I know you miss her."
More than you will ever know.
News of Blackkit and Brownkit swept the camp. Nutjaw had to practically force Rowantooth to eat by the nursery with his kin. "This is your last chance to share prey with them as kits." She warned. "Don't let fear stop you."
Barkstar called the meeting at Sunhigh. Nutjaw sat by Sheepkit, watching the Clan gather from the corner of her eye. Smokewhisker, who had been in a funk ever since Brownstep's death, was sitting morosely between Rocknose and Clawpelt. Rowantooth gave Sandpetal a respectful nod and settled in beside him.
"Blackkit and Brownkit are welcome additions to ThunderClan, but we will never forget Brownstep." He meowed, tail waving in the breeze. "Today we will honor her legacy."
"Barkstar?" Tallclaw struggled to her paws, ears whipping back at all the stares. "May I speak before the ceremony?"
The leader bowed his head to the well-respected elder, but Nutjaw saw Rowantooth bristle at the intrusion. "Of course you may, Tallclaw."
"I won't be long." She rasped reassuringly. "I just wanted to announce that I'll be having kits too."
A ripple of shock flashed over ThunderClan. It was common belief that the elder had sired no heirs because she was incapable. Not to mention her age. She was young, for an elder, but could she even pull off kitting after so many seasons of failures? Skyfur's eyes were wide as she studied him, calm and collected.
Sandpetal jumped up to press his head to her's, purring. His tail lightly draped across her spine. "Congratulations! I'll build you a nest right away."
Tallclaw twitched her whiskers. "Thank you, young'un. I'll need all the help I can get for my kits to survive."
Skyfur threw back his head. "Tallclaw!" They all joined in on the chant. Tallclaw licked her chest, self-conscious of the praise.
"Thank you for your contributions to the Clan, Tallclaw." Barkstar said, and honest delight lit up his gaze. "Today we will finally give you two apprentices to clean your nest. Sheepkit, Graykit, step forward."
They did so.
"Sheepkit, from this day forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sheeppaw. I see a bright future in you, Nutjaw. Share some of that light with Sheeppaw."
She swooped down to touch noses to the she-cat. It was a familiar gesture, and she easily moved aside for her to sit beside her.
"Graykit, do you accept the post of apprentice to Crowear?"
She lifted her chin. As Sheeppaw had predicted, the cut on her arm seemed to be forming into a scar. "I do."
"Then I name you Graypaw. At the half-moon, you must travel to the Moonpool to be accepted by StarClan before the other medicine cats. The good wishes of all ThunderClan will go with you."
Graypaw gimped over to her mentor and touched noses.
"Sheeppaw! Graypaw! Sheeppaw! Graypaw!"
I'm doing it, Brownstep, she thought, leading her new apprentice towards the tunnel. I'm following my dreams.
Author's Note: aro-ace Nutjaw is a thing, yes. She always was. (could she count as sex-repulsed? I'd hate to mis-use the term)
Silver, Black, ad Brown. 'Tis a family tradition. =) Next chapter is back to Smallpelt for a bit.
-Mandaree1