Hailpaw's kits

[Ten]

ooc| o.o I'm really not sure why all the other kits are such brainiacs. They're just babies.

bic|

Tinykit nodded with some foggy understanding, but his association between Clans and death remained. Warrior training sounded hard. He trembled, wondering if he'd survive, and pushed it from his mind as he nipped at Hailpaw's teats, urging her to lie down. "Milk!" he demanded.

[Cloud]

OOC: Eh, Stone's not all that smart. He's just thinking, "Oo! Something new! Sounds fun!" It's the girls who are the smart ones. Tiny's just somewhat of an idiot, or he comes across that way.

Obligingly, the golden-eyed con laid down in front of her solid gray son. Stonekit too was hungry, but let his brother go first, only because he did not want to get hissed at for the umpteenth time. Once his brother was settled, he went in as well, gulping steadily.

[moddy]

ooc: Blotchkit isn't really smart, that's just me being bad at role playing kits correctly, I think. xD

And when do you guys think I should bring in Whitekit 'n' Greykit?

[Ten]

ooc| -shrug- Whenever. It would be kinda funny if they went up while the other kits were nursing and tried to nurse from Hailpaw too -- although I think they're weaned, aren't they? Still, seems like the mischievous sort of thing they would do.

[moddy]

ooc: they would do that! but they are weaned, yeah. they'd still do it, though. just to mess around.

[Cloud]

OOC: Hailpaw: "WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU - ah what the heck."

[duckyaisha]

Ooc: I'll post as Dingypaw on this, I swear! After my legs recover from Teh Hard.

[Cloud]

-prods dead thread-

[Ten]

ooc| waiting on Modd's kits or Ducky's Clanners, depending on whoever can post first.

[duckyaisha]

Dingypaw was burning up. The relentless sun shone through the cracks in the wood-and-stone walls, lit her fur aflame and roasted her alive. If she squinted her failing eyes and pointed them towards the enclosure's peak, she could almost see fire devouring the edges of the branches. Her throat felt like it was filled with sand. Her paws dragged on the ground as she continued to trudge forward. Trudge, trudge, that was all she ever did. Trudge through one day, not even noticing when the next one came around. Trudge through the enclosure, searching, always searching for the essentials, the bare minimum of what was required for survival. Not for the first time, she asked herself why she kept doing this. Would death be so terrible? Could death be more terrible than this.

Instantly, her own question was answered by that little part of her mind that was so influential in her life. /No, Dingypaw. You cannot die. You're a survivor. Keep going. There's always something worth living for./ This voice, so optimistic. When her sister had died, when her father had succumbed to old age and weakness, when she had once gone seven days and seven nights without a single bite to eat, the voice had whispered in her ear and forced her paws to trudge just one more step, to find that thing worth living for.

And as she tore her eyes away from the white-hot blaze of the sun, blinking them to get the spots out of her vision, she heard and smelled something that turned her frown into a hopeful grin. She angled her single ear towards the sound, as if hearing it again would assure her it truly existed. The milky scent and those high-pitched yelps- were they real? Was it a mirage or a hallucination? No, usually that only happened when she was near starvation and she was still full on that rat Patchfur and the others had so kindly caught for her and Dottedfoot. And when she was thirsty, the hallucinations were usually of water. It had to be real, but at the same time, it was a perfect coincidence that could not have happened exactly at the moment when she need someone, or something, to lift her up.

Kits. Now that she had come closer, she could see a blurry outline of their forms. Cursing her failing eyes, she could make out four indistinct shapes romping around, staying close to a larger shape that must be the mother. Oh, how she remembered her kit days, playing with Palepaw, (and beating her in nearly every fight) joking, laughing, never taking anything in life seriously, because if something went amiss, her parents would always fix it and everything would be right again. A warm feeling spread throughout her body, and it wasn't from the sun's death rays this. It was bittersweet though, as reminiscing about earlier, simpler times also brought back memories of Palepaw's tragic death.

As she approached, the group of shapes transformed into cats. They had the same boundless energy Dingypaw herself used to have, until her joints began to ache and her muscles were stiff and sore each morning. Running around and chasing each other wildly, then leaping on each others' backs and play-fighting until they were all laughing and out of breath. If only she could do that now. But she wasn't bitter or jealous, simply happy to see signs of life, real life, not the automatic, emotionless, endless trudging of her existence.

With some difficulty, she walked the last few steps over to the mother and sat down, folding her legs politely underneath her and trying to look somewhat presentable by licking the worst of the sand off her chest fur. "Those are beautiful kits you have, miss," she meowed fondly, glancing over at them. "Mind if I play with them a bit, watch over them for you? I used to have kits of my own-" her voice cracked as she remembered Lightfur and Blacktail, and of course Stonepelt, her mate. Once she had regained control, she continued speaking. "You look like you could use a break. Caring for kits is hard work."