And... another challenge for Night Stalkers

Disgrace- A Mother's Love

A small kit's nose quivered, his short whiskers twitching with excitement as he scrunched a small, pink nose. The kit was pure, icy white, except for dark black that smudged his face as if he was a star in a cold, starless night. His large, heather eyes blinked away small particles that threatened to cloud his vision as intently he stared, his stocky body stock-still, not even a twitch to the feathery tail as his gaze intently fixed upon the camp entrance. Only his small, pink nose quivered, his short whiskers twitching with excitement.

The thorn tunnel rustled, and the kit's cupped ears perked, their forms sunk into his icy fur. He stretched forwards, pink nose scrunching farther as one cotton paw slipped into the air, muscles tensed with anticipation. Then cats formed in the bramble haze, silhouettes darkening in the failing light. He spotted the small, lithe form of a warrior and sunk back onto his haunches, disappointment drifting off his form in swooning waves. The cat materialized out of the haze, stalking past the small kit, her paws high in annoyance as her long, feathered tail slowly swept the ground. Swish. Swish.

The kit refused to take his gaze off the tunnel, his pink nose quivering once more and his stocky form statuesque in the ebbing dusk light. He failed to see the frosty white she-cat cast her heather eyes back at him with deep longing in her gaze, mixed with that of motherly love and searing pain as the kit refused to give her a glance. Longing, despair, and love came off her in tides more powerful than a crashing waterfall, and the white cat's step faltered as she swooned from intensity of emotion, her white coat ragged and unkempt.

And then her gaze broke, and her stalk became a sulk, her feathery tail dusting the ground as away to the warriors den she trudged, a mutinous look scheming upon her face. Swish. Swish.

The kit rose from his spot in one great leap, toppling a large black warrior in the dust as he, too, appeared from the brambles. "Dad!" he cried.

The icy warrior turned at his call, and her heather gaze hardened as the stocky cat rolled in the dust, joy pure and unkempt on his face. And then, with a flick of her feathery tail, she vanished back into the mist, revenge fueling her silent race. Swish. Swish.

"It was Darkheart! I saw him! He took a burning ember from the twoleg fire and threw it into the forest!" The icy she-cat's call was loud and clear- not a trace of doubt straggling within. The burly black tom took a step back as the clan's gaze swept over him, his leader's frosty glare the last to land against his carefree pelt.

"What are you…?" the stocky black cat stammered, voice shocked and filtered with boiling rage. "I would never-"

"Silence!" came the leader's call. "I have no reason not to believe Froststrike- she is my most trusted warrior. Plus, she warned us about the fire before any cat could- how could she do that if she could not see when it was caused? It is because of her that none of us died, and because of you that every clan will starve." His voice became dark with fury, and this drove him on. "Darkheart must be executed! If it were not for Froststrike, every one of us would be dead!"

"Executed…?" Froststrike echoed, the words dry on her mouth. I never meant for this!

"Yes," the leader turned, addressing her with gratitude before leaping down from his perch on the large willow tree, his hooked claws unsheathing. "He will pay. He will pay by my own claws!" The last words came in a screech as the tom hurled himself at Darkheart, ripping long, deep strokes across his flank. The dark tom's pelt turned crimson, and his shocked form fell to the floor, scarlet swirling up from his midnight throat, a night bathed in a crimson sheen. With the leader's fury unsheathed, he stepped away, watching the tom die as dawn light glittered upon his pelt.

"Daddy!" the kit screeched, racing towards the limp cat. "Daddy!" His paws thundered on the dusty ground, before they stopped abruptly with the swish of Froststrike's feathered tail. She pulled the kit closer as he sobbed, his frosty muzzle buried in her long winter coat. "He left me…"

"I will never leave you," she whispered, voice cracked with overwhelming emotion. "It's only fair…"

The fire of a mother's love swept into her gaze as the two cats huddled in the clearing alone, soot drenching their frosty fur. The other cats had left just as soon as they could. No cat wanted to stare death in the face. "Never?" the kit squeaked, his eyes turning up at the frosty she-cat.

"Never," she soothed, her words bent with the power of their meaning. "Never, my kit…"

I'm sorry, Darkheart. I didn't mean to do this to you. It just wasn't fair! Our kit, with his beautiful heather eyes… It wasn't fair that he ignored me! Cast me aside like a piece of crowfood! And it was all because of you…

But it wasn't supposed to end like this…

I just wanted my kit to love me back.