More Like Your Mother
Dialogue set a bit before the start of the official story. A sweet self discovery piece!
Four Moons before the first moon, on a hazy morning as usual, a lanky built white and gray cat is staring out. A distant green gaze drifting all across the woods before them.
A Forest they would soon be setting themselves out intoâŠ
The day was cold, as most were in their territory. But it felt unnerving like it never had before. Like it was creeping up under his skin. Trying to worm itself in.
Treatkit spent his whole kithood begging to finally be seen as older, to finally be on the same level as the larger cats. He felt much bigger despite him being so small. But now he is six moons. It was the night heâd be made an official alumni. Him and his sibling Trickkit.
Yet he still hadnât spoken the things he thought at all.
While Trickkit found its voice when they were still squeaky and wobbly, he had not.
It was. Scary. Terrifying to face the truth of his heart. Especially as his pops Pumpkinpail had told him so many stories of his real dad. How much they looked alike. He didnât want to turn from his dad. But he wasnât like him. Not in every way at least.
He was. Not a he. A she. A molly. How much he wanted to be a sister, to be a granddaughter. He was a mirror of the cat he never got to meet, and he felt so close to his dad when he saw his face in the puddles around camp, to get a glimpse into his lost papas life- to be the reflection of the tom that every cat knew and cared for. A part of him knew that none would be rude or deny him accepting himself. Yet it still felt so selfish. So wasteful. To toss away the scraps he got from his father set in his blood. It was- it was rude. It was practically mocking! He would be spitting on what the stars gave him! He was so. So. So-
âEEP!!â Treatkit cried at the shock of a warm nose nudging his cheek.
The silver speckled senior flinched back from the sudden noise that broke the perfect peace that was the morning. Immediately Treatkit apologized profusely for the shock, even if the other cat was the one to scare him.
Riverwrath muttered his own back and a spark of guilt gripped his stomach at being upset at the mediator for just coming over to him.
A cloud of curiosity misted over the other cats foggy eyes.
âWhatcha thinking bout kid? Nervous for ya ceremony?â His voice was low but clear. With the same cut-off end of words always present in the old cat's speech. Even so it made him want to spill every thought that had stung his mind since he was young. Maybe thatâs why he was chosen to be a mediator.
Treatkit realized he was just staring at the speckled tabby tom and had to bite back another apology. Didnât want to be annoying.
âA little nervous but Iâve always wanted to get out there. To be just like my papa yknow- learn something good.â He said clearly but faltered on his fatherâs mention.
âPops tells me all the time about him. Look up to my dad a lot. I have his pelt yknow! I mean of course you know, you knew him- but Pumpkinpailâs alway mentioned it. Spitting image of himâŠâ
Riverwrath let the youngerâs words settle for several seconds before looking out where the other was. Out into the blurry forest theyâd lived in for so long. While Treatkit couldnât read his mind he had this twitch in the back of his tongue. As if telling him to say something. Do something besides⊠stare.
âYer papa was a selfless soul. See that in ya a lot little look alike-â the elders' eyes looked at a particular tree, tracing it up and down before continuing to speak. Even as Treatkit waited anxiously to hear anything about his own dad.
âBut ya also got yer mother in ya. See it in ya face. The way youâd two listen and latch onta things. Evens when ya was so small. Practically raised that pipsqueak myself with how much sheâd stalk me.â He laughed at the memories of the mother he didnât know much about, clearly seeing the kit that was his mom in his own mind. Or maybe in the spot Treatkit took up.
Treatkit listened harder than he had ever before. His mom. Pops had few stories of her. Apparently she wasnât too into others' hearts like his dad was. But just like him she had disappeared. Gone into the fog like so many.
âYa know sheâd get so lost in her own shell. I took time trying to crack inta it Iâll tell ya that! She was something special.â
A smile pulled at the usually stoney faced senior and Treatkit ended up leaning closer, just in case the cat whispered.
Good thing he did, as Riverwrathâs gravely tone got much much quieter. âBut the cat she became once she spoke startled us all. She was truthful. Her words were practically meals with how much meaning she packed into them. No one wouldâve known though.. until she opened up-â
â-What Iâm trying to say is, whatever it is, whatever got ya mind in a twist, ya donât have to unravel it alone. Speaking about yerself will loosen that knot a whole lot trust me kiddo. Did it myself when I was bout yer age. Tacked on the title of a tom and been one since. As did yer mother, though when she was older. She came to me and said she wasnât no son of mine and we said it to every other cat till they got it right!â
And then back to silence. It wasnât the tense kind like before. It wasnât making his stomach turn anymore. Instead it filled him with a kindling thatâd he had never felt before those words brought him alive.
With a clearing of his throat,
And a rest of his head against the other cats side,
He said it. Just like his mother had many many moons before.
âI think Iâd prefer to be seen as a molly.â
