Post by bits on Mar 6, 2019 19:11:28 GMT
Nighttime was one of Sootkit's favourite times. Sure, most of the time she was asleep for the better part of the night - she was a kitten after all, and though she was small, she was still growing. She likely wouldn't get to the full size of most of her denmates (the consequences of her mother's difficult and fatal pregnancy) but she was still going to get bigger. Most nights she slept in her favourite spot - a dugout divet in the nursery, with some bedding and her favourite chewing stone. She was old enough now not to try and intrude on the other families in the nursery, and she was fine on her own. That being said, she wasn't great at sleeping - whether it was waking up due to the sounds of others nearby or simply being too restless to hold still, Sootkit had a night or two once in a while where she couldn't sleep. There was no point in staying the nursery during these times, so she tended to creep out - like she did tonight.
A little sore from the roughhousing today (she wasn't the most popular kid, and she tended to dig herself a deeper grave with every interaction), the tortie got herself out of the nursery and out into the camp. It was fairly quiet, and Sootkit was not a particularly eye-catching critter; the little gremlin child found herself a semi-isolated spot near-ish to the nursery. She rolled a pebble around in her mouth, fixated on the sensation of chewing and biting things even now. She was a weird kid, after all.
Once she found herself in her little spot, she let herself gaze upwards towards the stars. They were cool looking, but Sootkit preferred the dirt and mud down here. Some older cats said that the dead lived in the stars, but that seemed weird - how did they get there? Were there directions? The stars didn't smell like anything, so how was anyone able to find their way there? The kitten didn't get it. So she entertained herself by scratching marks in the snow with her kitten claws, quietly entertaining herself in the hopes of getting tired soon.
A little sore from the roughhousing today (she wasn't the most popular kid, and she tended to dig herself a deeper grave with every interaction), the tortie got herself out of the nursery and out into the camp. It was fairly quiet, and Sootkit was not a particularly eye-catching critter; the little gremlin child found herself a semi-isolated spot near-ish to the nursery. She rolled a pebble around in her mouth, fixated on the sensation of chewing and biting things even now. She was a weird kid, after all.
Once she found herself in her little spot, she let herself gaze upwards towards the stars. They were cool looking, but Sootkit preferred the dirt and mud down here. Some older cats said that the dead lived in the stars, but that seemed weird - how did they get there? Were there directions? The stars didn't smell like anything, so how was anyone able to find their way there? The kitten didn't get it. So she entertained herself by scratching marks in the snow with her kitten claws, quietly entertaining herself in the hopes of getting tired soon.