[ti]Private[/ti]Half Blood

[Mama]

Redbird wasn't the one to lie, especially to his own leader. But, perhaps he never had the chance to explain the four little kittens in Mothclan, three painless and one not. None had his flaming red coat, but Honeykit's eyes, his happy attitude, and kitten curiousity was the same of his Ivyclan father.


It was near sunset, and Honeykit was off on his own, exploring around the camp and eventually, found a bundle of brambles and thorns to play in. His bright orange eyes twinkled as he swatted at the spiky plants, before it eventually got boring and he tried to get them off. The plants stuck into his pelt and he tumbled about, paws swatting at them and he chomped at the plants. A few broke, making him able to walk away from them, but he didn't want to head back to his mother and get her upset because his pelt was messy. To put it bluntly, Honeykit was a people pleaser.

Finding a spot for him to have a bit of shelter from others eyes, or so he thought, he started to work at trying to get them off his pelt. A few nicked his fur, and it caused him to stop and stare. Did he do something wrong? Why was there red stuff coming out of him? Cautiously, he swept a messy lick over it, in attempt to get it to not show up. What would his mom think if he turned red?

[M'Lady]

She knew these kits too, if not their names, where they came from. Cats gossiped often in Starclan, and from her own mother she'd heard the news of her kin having kits with a Mothclan queen. In life Owlstar may have punished the young warrior, but in death Owleyes no longer had the cares of the mortal world. She hadn't quite been planning on going down to the territories today, but when she saw the poor little kit, how could she resist?

When she arrived, the scrap of fur was bleeding. Not much, not enough to need dock leaves, but enough that Owleyes let out a little sigh, and moved towards the kit. "Hey there," She spoke softly, her yellow eyes warm as she moved around the kit to curl her tail around him, reaching down with her muzzle. "I'll get these out for you, alright?" Mischievous little thing, he already reminded her of Redbird. Always getting little scrapes and cuts out of nowhere. She reached carefully, her movements graceful even in her death, and gently picked out each and every one of the thorn nubs to clear his warmly colored pelt. "Stay still, lovely." Her words were just as full of life as her eyes, and she moved to groom his pelt with slow rasps of her tongue, washing away the metallic tang of blood and straightening out tangled fur until it was clean.

[Mama]

The brown tabby stared up with wide eyes as this big, fluffy creature suddenly curled her tail around him. Who.. who was she? Honeykit could faintly feel her nudging him around, and instinctively, he just sort of flopped over and watched her pull out thorns. Oh, she wanted to help! His orange gaze followed her movements, dancing with her head before she quickly helped straightened him up. His little tail flickered back and forth excitedly the whole time, and once she was done, he swiped at her tail. It was so pretty, so fluffy... he wished he had big, fluffy fur. But, alas, he didn't, and that was alright too!

Getting to his feet and looking at her, his ears perked straight up and he mouthed a 'thank you' to the kind feline. It was strange, though, the whole time he hadn't spoken a word, and even when it looked as if he visibly tried, nothing came out. But, it didn't seem to be new to him, and he continued to excitedly stare up and down, hoping she'd start talking. Honeykit really, really liked listening to people talk, and this new cat must have some sort of story to tell him! One about cool fighting, or a leader, something! His mother definitely didn't tell him enough, and if she did, it wasn't that... nice. Honeykit much rather eavesdrop on some warriors and apprentices, then sit in silence. 

[M'Lady]

As he mouthed a soft thank you to her, realization struck Owleyes. Ah, so this was the one that couldn't speak. Honeykit? A lovely, cheerful little tomcat. She smiled slightly in response, and then watched as he lingered around her instead of returning back to his mother. He looked up at her, and from all the time she'd spent around kits, recognition flickered in yellow eyes. Oh, these were eager eyes! Eager for a playfight, for an adventure, for a story! She laughed softly, settling down on the cool ground, though she no longer felt the cold, and beckoned the little kit to join her.

"Do you want a story, Honey? I'm a cat with many a tale." Which would she tell? She could talk about her fight with a badger when she was just a deputy, or how she chased a Mistclan warrior off when she was just an apprentice herself. She could tell a tale of how the clans found their new home, or brave Mothstar struck out on his own. Perhaps a quest of loyalty and faith to Starclan? Or something simple like a hunting trip in leafbare that turned out to be utterly brilliant?

Finally, her eyes sparked, and she gave a gentle though nostalgic smile. "Have you ever heard of a young cat named Ashlark?" The story of an apprentice that burned but in Starclan led the clans to their new home. She shouldn't tell stories about herself, anyways. They didn't know about their father, maybe one day they'd learn but it wouldn't be from her.