Thanks to whoever reviewed.
And sorry if the chapters are so short, I'll try to make them longer.
. . .
Featherkit shifted awkwardly, trying to get comfortable in her nest.
The moss beneath her belly was pitch-cold, and she was shivering.
From lack of heat or loneliness, she didn't know. But she did feel lonely- immensely so. Her nest was tucked in the farthermost corner of the nursery, probably due to the fact that her Mother couldn't bear to see her.
Or the other kits, for that matter.
Besides Featherkit and her brother, there were two other kits in the nursery, but unlike herself, they were tucked close to their Mother's belly.
They were loved.
Featherkit wasn't.
Her own Mother seemed to hate the very sight of her.
She eyed the mass of gray fur apprensively.
Her brother was sleeping peacefully at their Mother's belly, and every so often, he would mumble something incoherent and bury deeper into the warmth that he had at his disposal, their Mother curling further around him in return.
Featherkit merely gazed at them longingly, and she murmured, "Why does Cinderkit get everything?"
One kit yawned loudly, diverting her attention.
The kit was lying on her back, and as she slept, Featherkit noticed that the kit's cream fur fluffed up sporadically from her deep, even breaths.
The kit was safe at her Mother's belly, curled closely together with her dark brown-furred brother.
Yes, Featherkit was very lonely.
But I don't need to sit around and mope, she decided, I can go somewhere instead of this miserable nursery and its occupants.
So with that thought in mind, Featherkit hopped to her paws and, without much effort, hobbled to the entrance.
It must be one of her better days if she was walking so well.
The crisp evening air met her face with a pleasant whoosh, and she sighed happily as it ruffled the fluffy fur on the top of her face.
It had rained recently, Featherkit noted.
Even if it hadn't, she could smell it in the air.
A puddle glinted nearby, and Featherkit found her interest piqued. She had only seen her reflection a total of three times, and it had only been from a puddle much like the one near her.
So she limped over and practically collapsed in front of it, resting her front paws. Her collision with the ground lightly disturbed the water and a few droplets splashed onto her paws.
Featherkit giggled.
Then she looked into the puddle.
A familiar face stared back at her, with white fur and grey-tipped ears. A bright ginger patch circled her left eye completely, her amber eyes seeming to be huge on her face. On her body, Featherkit knew that there were several ginger patches.
A few were also splotched all over her back and front legs.
Her face looked strange to her, even though it was so familiar, and the patch on her face made her look completely ridiculous.
That thought caused Featherkit to laugh out loud.
Have you also considered the fact that Brightstar may have put a cat on guard duty? An annoying voice at the back of her mind said.
Featherkit growled softly in reply, and out loud, she said, "I don't care."
And then she made a break for it.
Featherkit thought she probably thought she looked ridiculous with the way she was running- and it probably looked painful from another's point of view- but she found that she couldn't care less.
Nevertheless, by the time she did stop, her paws were aching and she was thoroughly out of breath.
And then Featherkit realised something.
She was free.
Free from the overbearing stares and hissing whispers.
Free from the humiliation of her deformed limbs.
Free from the hate.
"I'm free!" she called joyfully to the sky.
Featherkit made a show of doing a victory dance, though her front paws were so tired from the torture she had put them through moments before that they gave out underneath her.
She still laughed anyway.
A while later, Featherkit picked herself up, and she only seemed to realise something.
"Where am I going to go after this?" she asked no one in particular.
She eyed something far in the distance, great towering peaks that seemed to stretch to the top of the world.
How about there? her conscience pointed, It looks pretty desolate, and a way out from this stupid forest.
It was also desolate and bare, with the random scattering of trees and bushes here and there.
It was perfect.
"I always hated the forest, anyway," Featherkit grumbled, before finally setting off.
She walked for what seemed like hours, and the towering peaks in the distance were the only thing leading her away from that accursed Clan that she called home.
Then, she stopped.
And something came unbidden to her mind, and she could have slapped herself for her stupidity.
What am I going to do about food? Featherkit panicked momentarily, and water, too!
Hesitating, Featherkit glanced back to the path from whence she had come.
She made her decision and steeled her resolve.
"One look," she vowed. "One look and then I'll return, if only to recieve training in one moon's time. And when I learn how to hunt, then I'll be free for real!"
So with that thought in mind, Featherkit dashed foreward, not paying any heed that she was crashing through bushes and potentially creating a loud racket.
She didn't care.
She would be free.
She would.
And all Featherkit knew were the peaks of stone that towered so mournfully high above her.
The weight of her body put together with the fact that she was racong speeds that she had never dared to in her life made her front paws burn.
A branch whipped her across the face, and Featherkit cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain.
She came to a stop and brought a paw to her cheek gently, pressing it into her face.
The paw came away red.
But there was only a slight sting on her face, and Featherkit didn't want to let a tiny scratch dissuade her from exploring.
It was as if something primal and Wild had awakened within her.
Featherkit let this strange and wonderous feeling give her strength.
And it did.
So she got up and ran.
And promptly found herself dashing into open grassland.
Featherkit stopped for a second, gazing around the place in open wonder.
A wonderfully cool breeze blew over her, and suddenly, she knew where she was.
"The Moors," Featherkit breathed.
And when she looked at the sky, Silverpelt twinkled down at her, appearing like bright gems against the pitch-black sky.
"I can't believe I'm really here!" she laughed happily, revelling in her short freedom, because she knew that she would have to return to ThunderClan before the sun rose.
And she would have to return to to the constant glares and cold whispers.
ThunderClan didn't want her.
They never had, and they never would.
Something suddenly caught her eye, and Featherkit turned.
It was a mouse!
I wonder if I can catch it, she thought, 'cause the warriors back at the camp make it look easy with the amount of fresh-kill they bring back. So it can't be too hard, can it?
Featherkit shrugged, Oh well, I guess I'll just have to find out, then.
She dropped into one of those strange looking stances that she had seen one of the apprentices practising, and when she did this, her twisted paws protested harshly at the treatment.
Slowly, she adjusted them, and a few seconds later, the uncomfortable burning feeling faded away.
Featherkit stared ahead determindly.
The mouse continued to sniff around, then came forth with a few blades of grass clutched in its mouth.
Featherkit felt excited, this was her chance. She tensed her hind muscles in preparation, and then she leaped.
She sailed through the air for a split-second, then landed rather awkwardly on all fours, her unsheathed claws piercing the mouse's flesh just as another's did, and all she could think was: I caught my first fresh-kill! Wait 'till I tell Cinderkit! He'll have a reason to treat me better now!
And Featherkit only seemed to notice that someone else was clutching her catch when her forehead softly bumped against another's.
She stifled a startled scream of horror and whipped her head up, her amber eyes instantly pierced with a pair of bright blue eyes.
And all Featherkit could say was: "You're on my kill!"
The cat looked affronted, and it showed in his unusually bright eyes. "I think it's mine! I found it first!"
Featherkit swiftly pulled the mouse back, caging it between her twisted paws. "Hah, take that!" she cried. "You can't get it now!"
The cat's eyes narrowed, as if he were sizing her up.
Subconciously, Featherkit tucked her deformed limbs beneath her chin, and she glared at him, daring him to comment on her deformities.
He didn't, though.
Featherkit narrowed her own eyes. Just what was this strange cat with the lovely eyes plotting.
Then, he smirked. "What's a kit like you doing on WindClan territory, huh?"
Strangely, Featherkit felt offended, and she hissed, "I'm not a kit! I'm nearly an apprentice! And for your information, I ran away!"
The cat stared at her.
Featherkit stared back.
Finally, the cat shrugged. "I'm not going to ask for your reason," he said lowly. "But I guess that you're welcome to stay in WindClan until you have to return tomorrow. Which I have no doubt that you will be returning. You're only a kit, after all."
Strangely, Featherkit felt enthused by his offer. "Do you really mean it?" she asked. "Or are you just a lying Fox-heart like the rest of them?"
The cat stared at her again, and she found herself really seeing him.
His fur was a soft grey colour- not too light and not too dark, more in the middle, if she were to be honest. Those blue eyes of his bore into her with startling clarity.
He seemed uncomfortable by her blatant staring, and Featherkit looked away, muttering softly, "I'm Featherkit."
The cat suddenly smiled widely, but it wasn't arrogant or conscending like Featherkit had expected. "My name's Darkpaw. Nice to meet you, Featherkit."
Featherkit found herself slowly smiling back. "Nice to meet you, too, Darkpaw."
A moment later, the grey apprentice tilted his head, as if smelling something on the air.
Featherkit looked at him for an explanation.
Darkpaw gave her one, "It's the moonhigh patrol," he exclaimed, and for a second he almost looked embarrassed. "I was supposed to be with them, but I, uh..."
Featherkit let out a mrrow of laughter, clarifying, "But you went hunting."
Before Darkpaw could a chance to reply, a loud, deep mew rang throughout the Moors, "What are you doing out here, Darkpaw? And who is that with you?"
Darkpaw gulped, and Featherkit wondered that if a WindClan apprentice was afraid, then should she be, too?
"Well, uh," said WindClan apprentice stammered, "there's a story involved..."
"And that is?" prompted the same voice, and finally, Featherkit was able to get a good look at the so called "moonhigh patrol".
It was a white tom with yellow eyes. He had a superior, domimating air about him.
"Fine, fine, I went hunting!" blurted Darkpaw frantically. "There, happy, Cloudstorm?!"
"It still doesn't explain the cat next to you," retorted Cloudstorm gruffly. "And she looks barely old enough to be an apprentice. A kit, really!"
Featherkit soon got fed up with the cat's attitude, and she swiftly came to Darkpaw's defense. "I'm not a kit!" she snapped, causing the white cat's yellow eyes to snap to her. "I'm five moons old!"
"Explain why a five moon old kit is so far away from home, Darkpaw," Cloudstorm demanded somewhat lazily, his eyes never leaving her slouched form. "Or is she a Kittypet?"
Featherkit flinched at that, and Darkpaw came to her defense. "Cloudstorm, she isn't a Kittypet!" he protested rather loudly.
Cloudstorm's lip curled. "Then what is she?"
Darkpaw looked stricken. "I don't know," he mumbled. "But she needs a place to stay for the night. And I said that she could spend it in WindClan!"
"You promised a stranger a place in our Clan?" Cloudstorm murmured. His eyes flicked down to Featherkit, and for reasons that she couldn't fathom, they softened considerably. "Very well. She may stay for the night, but no longer."
Featherkit felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and she purred, liking the feeling.
She wouldn't have to return to ThunderClan, either!
"What's your name?" Cloudstorm suddenly asked.
"Featherkit," she said.
She blinked when the white cat looked at her keenly. She shifted, uneasy underneath the weight of his sharp glare. "What?"
"You have a Clan name," Cloudstorm mewed. "Explain that if you would."
"I'm from ThunderClan, okay?!" Featherkit snapped. "I only ran away because I couldn't take it anymore. But I swear I'll return after this, I promise! Just please don't turn me in!"
Cloudstorm looked down at her. "Couldn't stand what?" His gaze grew probing.
"The- everything. The glares, the whispers- all of it it!" Featherkit gazed down at her twisted paws, quietly mewing, "And all because I have these."
Cloudstorm suddenly snorted, and when Featherkit looked up, the white tom was sneering. "ThunderClan!" he spat. "How juvenile they are! Tormenting a poor kit just because she couldn't help with the way she was born!" He turned around, swoftly ordering, "Hurry up, the both of you! Sunheart and Mudpaw are already back at camp, and they'll be wondering where I am!"
"He's the deputy," Darkpaw whispered to her as they followed on behind the white cat.
"Really?" Featherkit whispered back, and for a second, she wondered what it might be like if she could become ThunderClan deputy.
But then ThunderClan was wiped away, and it didn't matter anymore.
Now, there was only WindClan, even though she knew that she would have to return to ThunderClan eventually.
That being the next day.
But she would enjoy it while it lasted.
Away from the cold glares and harsh criticism.
Because Featherkit had never felt so free in all of her life.