The first noise that Emberkit ever heard was the sound of his mother wailing in pain and exhaustion. Of course at the time, the little kit had no idea of what that sound meant and his little ears only processed the sound as one dull and far away. Through instinct, he meweled, searching for warmth and something to fill his suddenly empty belly. Something nugded him, and he squeaked in protest. But now his little pink nose was touching something big and warm and soft, which he somehow was able to identify as his mother. Soon he was suckling, content and kneeding his mother's stomach, unaware of what him and his former littermates had just put her through.
The first thing Emberkit saw, about a week later, was the fuzzy outline of the nursery den. It seemed vast and towered over him, making him feel suddenly very small. "Hush," his mother soothed, using her tail to draw him closer. "It is alright."
A couple of days after that, his vision cleared and he was able to fully make out the walls of the den. Interlocking material created a thick wall, and light only seeped in through the thinnest of cracks. "Your father made the nursery extra secure- just for you" his mother purred lovingly.
Emberkit turned his amber eyes towards his mother, Nettlestem. Her black pelt made her a shadowy figure in the dark den, but he didn't mind. That was the world he was used to, confined in a little den with a bright, busy opening into the world of Thunderclan. "When can I go explore the camp?" He asked, his mew small.
She flicked her tail with worry. "Wait a moon or so. You're such a little kit, you can be easily knocked around by a warrior that doesn't see you."
And like all little kits, Emberkit snuck out the moment Nettlestem fell asleep. It was late evening, camp life was slowing down, and the last cats from patrols made their way back to camp. Emberkit's eyes widened as much as they could, but he still couldn't see the far end of the camp. His little legs carried him forward uncertainly, his body flattened to the ground. Outside the den, he could hear more than just the bustle of camp life- he could hear the faint murmur of the forest as well. The ground under him was hard and dusty, not at all like the softness of the ground in the den.
"What are you doing outside the nursery?" A voice came from the side when he wasn't paying attention. Emberkit looked towards it to find a big gray cat standing above him.
"I was exploring" he mewed. "Who are you? I'm Emberkit."
The cat purred with laughter. "I know exactly who you are, you curious kit. I came to visit you in the nursery after you were born. I'm Quailspring." Emberkit could now make out that this figure was a gray she-cat. "You're not supposed to be out here, are you?"
Emberkit looked down at the ground. "Nettlestem was sleeping and I got bored," he muttered. Then an idea popped into his mind and he lifted his head excitedly. "Are you a warrior?"
Quailspring nodded. Emberkit stared at her for a few moments, awed. She purred again. "I think its time for you to go back to the nursery." And with that, she leaned down and pucked him up by his scruff, padding the six fox-lengths he had managed to travel from the nursery. Nettlestem was just waking up, and her eyes widened. "I have an escapee to deliver," she joked. Nettlestem gratefully took him and blinked thanks at her friend.
"He's going to be a great warrior, I can tell," Quailspring said good-naturedly. "He's got the right amount of curiosity in him, and at such a young age."
Emberkit puffed up his small chest proudly at her remark.
"Or it could get him into trouble," Nettlestem murmured anxiously, bending down to clean her only surviving kit.