And
there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In
a land of make believe
That don't believe in me
Stormkit tossed a moss ball he had found earlier to his sister, Featherkit, and watched her pounce on it and press her muzzle into it, biting as hard as she could. She finally smiled and tossed it back, letting it fly just out of Stormkit's reach.
He turned and bounded over to retrieve it, but a long forepaw stretched out from the nursery close to where it had tumbled. "Watch where you're playing with your things, half-blood," the smoky black tom growled.
A blue-gray she-cat pushed him out of the way, almost out of the nursery. "Stop it, Blackclaw!" she hissed. "Stormkit's done nothing wrong!"
Blackclaw snorted. "He has to ThunderClan and RiverClan!" he hissed, tail flicking as he padded out of the nursery. "I'm telling you," he called over his shoulder right before he padded into the warrior den, "there's something wrong with that kit! Both of those kits!"
Stormkit's eyes widened and he ducked close to Mistyfoot, whimpering. "I-I didn't mean to upset him," he mewed, his sister pressing against him for comfort.
"It's not your fault, Stormkit," Mistyfoot mewed soothingly. "Don't worry about it. Blackclaw would never do anything to you. Just wait until your father hears about this... Of all the things!" She nudged them both into the nursery as she waited on Graystripe to get back from the patrol that was Stonefur, Mosspelt, and Loudbelly, and Silverpaw.
When the patrol finally arrived, Mosspelt, their caretaker, had finally gotten up and was awake.
Mistyfoot padded over to Graystripe and began to exchange words with him, just out of earshot of Featherkit and Stormkit.
"What do you think they're saying?" Featherkit whispered.
Stormkit's amber eyes blazed with a feeling he had never felt before: true anger. "Probably telling him about how Blackclaw thought we were worthless," he spat and padded back into the nursery.