Chapter 1: Parenting

Fogclan

Two eyes, pale blue as chips of ice, carefully tracked the movement of a pale shape through the fog. Blackkit's target didn't notice him, occupied with other tasks. Water instantly darkened the gray of his paws as he moved forward through a small puddle, making them nearly the shade of the rest of his midnight fur. The kit checked again; no, he still hadn't been noticed. Now that he was close enough to pounce, he sank into a clumsy crouch and flung himself forward.

... only to squeak in terror as yellow filled his vision.

"Hey, kit. You didn't honestly believe I didn't know you followed me, did you?" The warrior grinned, sitting back up, honey-colored eyes glinting in amusement. "The way you were stomping around, I almost mistook you for a bear. Except you aren't nearly as big and ugly. Or half as terrifying."

Blackkit puffed up for a moment as though he was going to argue, but then turned his eyes to the damp grass at his feet. "I thought I was doing well," he said quietly.

Honeybreath looked taken aback. "Er, for a kit, you were," he amended. "You're pretty light on your feet, actually. You'll make a great hunter when you're old enough."

"But I don't want to be a warrior and hunt." The kit looked back up at the more experienced cat. "I want to be a medicine cat."

"... Then why were you stalking me?" His head tipped sideways in confusion.

"I think medicine cats should learn how to fight, too, in case a Lightningclan cat tries to attack them," Blackkit stated firmly. "Or they can help their Clanmates from getting worse injuries in a fight by sneaking up and scaring their enemy."

"Flawed logic, but tell you what," Honeybreath said. "You become the new medicine cat apprentice, get to eight moons, and I'll teach you to fight like a warrior. Sound good?"

Icy eyes gleamed. "Yes!" Blackkit smiled brightly up at his older Clanmate, who couldn't help but grin back.

Of course, Honeybreath figured, after the teachings he'd receive as Blackpaw, he wouldn't want to learn how to fight or wouldn't have time. So he was rather surprised when, after the four moon requirement, Blackpaw approached the warrior and issued a flat demand. Honeybreath had been happy to oblige, having no apprentice for himself at the time.

Even moons and moons later, Blackice had come to see him as a father figure. And Honeybreath had to admit, he rather enjoyed having a son.

A/N: My first little drabble involving some characters I somehow got rather attached to. Tell me what you think?