Post by Rai on Jan 19, 2019 18:56:32 GMT
Mudkit | M | MothClan
His head was high and tail was low, but it didn't drag due to lack of enthusiasm, rather it trailed behind him from the weight of the mud and debris clumped around it that he couldn't quite hold steady behind him without struggling; so why struggle.
Fitting his name he plodded across the camp, pelt splattered in varying brown shades of mud with bits of grass and pine needles clinging to his pelt. At one point he'd realized how upset his mother would be and attempted to groom, but got distracted arranging the loose pine needles on him in a spread display so he could pretend to be a porcupine and any attempts to clean himself were quickly forgotten.
Mudkit stomped along, leaving sloppy splashes of his namesake along behind him as he wandered around the camp within view of the nursery, his harried mother napping in the back and eagerly awaiting the day she could leave him to return to her warrior duties. Not that she didn't love him, he'd been fairly spoiled since his sister died and neither parent lacked affection, but he could tell in even their gentle gestures they were, to be blunt 'sick of him'.
And why wouldn't they, he thought wryly, teeth visible in a catty smile, he'd done nothing but cause trouble from day one.
If there was an award for kitten most likely to have their ceremony delayed for one reason or another he'd be in the front of that line. Between leaving camp, thankfully with no serious repercussions like being eaten, and disturbing the elder's den occupants demanding stories, he was a terror of a point kitten and he knew it.
And he THRIVED in it. It wouldn't be much longer before he could have a little more freedom without fighting for it-he was only a moon away from apprenticeship and the desire to go hunting with the older cats and fighting off rogues and bears and other frightful things caused a surge of excitement to run down his spine to his tail where it twitched in response.