For as long as he could remember, Twigkit had wanted to become a caretaker like his father. Seeing how much joy Wildbillow seemed to get from playing with him and the other kits, the spark in his eyes as he would bring water to the elders and gather herbs for the healers, it all seemed so inviting to Twigkit. So after Badgerpelt was chosen as the deputy without first training an apprentice, Twigkit had been nervous that he would need to become a historian instead.
Wildbillow had fought to become Twigkit's mentor regardless. For a couple of weeks, his father would leave the nursery at night to have hushed discussions with Cilantrofang and Badgerpelt, telling them not to put Twigkit on a path he didn't want to take in life. There came a day that Cilantrofang asked Icekit how he felt about becoming a historian, and the quick acceptance of the younger kit caused a heavy wave of relief to crash over Twigkit. The nights of worrying about his future were over.
What a waste those weeks had been. A few short days before Twigpaw's apprentice ceremony, Delugeskip ran into camp to rush the two kits into the nursery. Twigkit hadn't needed to ask what was going on, the smell of blood had hit his nose before the warrior could explain anything. Twigkit overheard all of the talk about a raccoon, Badgerpelt commanding Rimefreckle to thoroughly cover Wildbillow's wounds and explaining that the caretaker had requested not to let his son see the damage. The amount of bandaging that was wrapped around his father's face, neck, and chest during the funeral...
Twigpaw flinched his paw away from the tree as he tried to collect moss. This shouldn't be a difficult task, he kept telling himself, but he kept imagining the sensation of blood soaked into the soft material, imagining the light green hue shifting into a deep red. He slammed his eyes shut and clawed a pawful into his basket as fast as he could, baring his teeth in frustration. He reopened them when he heard a scraping against the trunk from below to see the unamused eyes of his mentor, Delugeskip.
"Come down, Twigpaw. We've gathered enough," she meowed. She was the warrior selected to mentor him in Wildbillow's stead. He clawed his way down the tree and listened to the crunch of a thin layer of frost atop the grass, his head low as the warrior studied him. Twigpaw was expecting to get an earful for how rough he had been towards the moss, but Delugeskip only turned and flicked her tail in silent command to follow her.
When Wildbillow died, Twigkit had deduced that his replacement mentor would be Delugeskip. She had begun to visit the nursery constantly, to the point he knew it was deliberate. He had been quite annoyed by this in his head, as she was very unsimilar to his father. But she had been less stern towards him in the week since his father's death, so he didn't voice his opinions. He didn't think anyone else would be able to live up to his expectations anyways.
"I'm proud of you, Twigpaw." The meow broke Twigpaw out of his thoughts and the wrinkles on his nose disappeared; he hadn't even realized his face had scrunched. His ears pinned as he looked towards Delugeskip with her moss basket still firmly gripped in her jaws, questions filling his mind on what had prompted the statement.
"Although it hasn't been long, your training has already been going excellently. I believe you'll-"
"Please stop," Twigpaw interrupted in irritation. He knew that she was trying to make him feel better about his predicament, he really did, but her words had only driven him deeper into his frustrations. I'm not supposed to be angry at consolation, what's wrong with me? Why doesn't grief feel sad, like it's supposed to? Delugeskip gave an accepting hum, and after that, the walk back to camp was filled with a long silence.
"If you want to rest, I can drop off your basket for you," Delugeskip meowed. It felt insulting to him, like she believed he wasn't competent enough to bring the moss to Rimefreckle himself, but he knew Delugeskip was only trying to be nice. Not wanting to be difficult anymore, he simply grumbled his thanks while setting the basket down. Entering camp, the stone path was cold from the winter wind, though the more experienced members of EveningClan claimed the season was warmer this year than usual.
Hedgehogstar and Badgerpelt were in the clearing next to a small fire, having some sort of discussion, which Twigpaw chose not to listen to. He lowered his head and skittered towards the nursery to check on Icekit.
The nursery was near one of the camp walls, built out of the strongest branches and brambles the warriors could find and lined with rocks of various sizes, which Twigpaw assumed was for stability. The roof looked the same as the walls from the inside, but on the outside, it was covered in straw and flower filled moss. He remembered that while it was built, he and Icekit had found a patch of beautiful white orchids hanging into camp, and brought them to Wildbillow while he was still constructing. Most of the petals still dotted the lower tangles and stones, and a few of the flowers still remained fully intact in the higher brambles from Wildbillow joining the kits in the joyful act of decorating.
The inside didn't hold as many distinct memories to Twigpaw. There was only one nest shared between the den's two current residents, which was an old torn blanket Tempest had taken from the humans to help Twigpaw with his sensory issues. The soft cedar mulch squished under the apprentice's paws as he took a couple of steps into the den, only to realize, Icekit didn't appear to be in the nursery.
Twigpaw still walked in, moving the blanket in hopes the younger cat was hiding underneath, but this was not the case. He paced more seriously back into the clearing, running through places he might find Icekit in his mind. The first place that came to mind was Weedflop's den. Perhaps he had wanted the elder to tell him a story. He was planning to become a historian, after all, and he had been chattering on and on about how much he wanted to start training already.
The elder's den wasn't as showy as the nursery, only a simple rock wall against a different side of camp with a roof of sticks and large leaves, and minimal decorations as Weedflop requested. Twigpaw looked inside to see the ginger cat cleaning one of her front legs. He cleared his throat to earn her attention, causing the molly to freeze and turn slowly towards him with a blank expression.
"Twigpaw," she meowed monotonously to him as he dipped his head in respect.
"Do you know where Icekit could be? He's not in the nursery." The elder's posture was tense, for whatever reason, but she continued to stare him down until discomfort settled into his skin.
"Watching him is supposed to be your responsibility," she gruffed, turning around to continue cleaning her paw. Twigpaw looked to his sides in confusion, wondering what was with this apprehension.
"Okay, well, thanks anyways," he mewed.
"Sure," was her only response as he turned away to check elsewhere. His eyes darted around as panic began to build quietly in his throat, trying to spot where either the leader or deputy had retreated to so he could warn them of the missing kit, but within a few moments, a hunting patrol arrived in camp. Beaverheart carried a basket with a couple of chipmunks and Cilantrofang with a few small fish. Tempest entered last, and though his basket was empty, he kept looking behind him, until Icekit pranced into camp with an upset look on his face.
"Icekit, get over here," Twigpaw shouted, perhaps more intensely than he had been trying to. The small ticked tom's eyes widened nervously, but he still smiled and scampered towards the apprentice, following him in the direction of the nursery.
"I wanted to learn how to hunt," Icekit mewed before Twigpaw had time to speak. Twigpaw looked to his friend and his ears fell. The kit's smile dropped and a guilt settled within Twigpaw's stomach, he knew he needed to tell his friend off for this stunt. Would he be upset when this lecture was over?
"Icekit, I'm glad that you enjoyed yourself, but it's not safe for a young, untrained kitten to be outside of camp, especially without anyone knowing. You could have caused a panic." Icekit lowered his head as the young toms reached the nursery's center, eyes diverted but excitement still visible in his raised ears. The silver kit flopped onto the bedding dramatically.
"I know, Twigpaw. I'm sorry. It's just so unfair that you can train and I can't! Weedflop is the only cat in camp all the time, and she doesn't even try to tell me any stories at all!" With how the elder had responded to him, Twigpaw believed that. He forced his fur to remain flat along his spine.
"Badgerpelt was in camp, why didn't you ask her for a story?" Twigpaw slowly crouched to lay down, and Icekit shifted his body to press himself into the brown tom's long fur.
"Because she was talking to Hedgehogstar, so it was probably important and I don't want to interrupt something important. I want her to think I'm responsible and I was gonna come back to camp quickly, honest! But Beaverheart said he's gonna tell Hedgehogstar not to make me an apprentice. He can't do that, can he? Will I still be allowed to be an apprentice?"
Snow began to gently fall outside of the den, wind whistling between the branches. Twigpaw looked outside and spotted Cilantrofang and Beaverheart, side by side, speaking with Hedgehogstar and Badgerpelt, at the precise moment the deputy turned to face the nursery.
"Well, you are in trouble for this, but Hedgehogstar won't make you stay in the nursery forever. Badgerpelt still needs an apprentice, after all, it wouldn't make sense for them to hold you back. If you want training a bit early, you could have asked me to tell you some of the things Delugeskip teaches me. Does that sound like something you'd like?" Icekit stared at Twigpaw for a long moment before his chin came to rest on the older tom's shoulder.
"Could you tell me a story right now?" The older tom had become familiar enough with the kit to realize this as an indirect response of agreement. Twigpaw curled his tail over Icekit's back and began looking at the snow, thinking of any piece of history he could share. He had never been too adept in history, which he presumed was one of the other things that pushed him away from the thought of Badgerpelt mentoring him as a kit. Twigpaw knew about the devastating flood that hit a few moons after DewClan's creation; every kit in DewClan was taught that story nearly as soon as they opened their eyes, but it was the only story Twigpaw could tell consistently.
The snow began blowing harder outside while Twigpaw mumbled everything out to Icekit. The apprentice had seen Icekit roll his eyes as he started the lecture and had to stop himself from letting more than a couple of laughs enter his meows, and it didn't surprise him when the silver kit fell asleep before he had finished. It was darker outside now that the sun was almost below the horizon and clouds blocked the moonlight, and the rest of the Clan had gone to their dens.
However, the fire was still glowing in the middle of the clearing. Twigpaw didn't know if that was because the older cats forgot or because someone was still awake. Slowly shifted so he could stand without waking his friend and exited the nursery. No food was cooking over the fire so the brown cat's paw scooped up some sand and snow to put it out. Out of the corner of his eye, as the firelight died, the orange glow reflected off of some cat's tail as it lashed in an unclaimed corner of camp. No doubt it was Tempest, it was too pale to be anyone else in EveningClan. Perhaps he was waiting for someone to offer him an escort home? Twigpaw began to approach the corner, and as he approached, he began hearing the housecat's voice.
"Its face was weirder than that, Beaverheart. I know what a raccoon looks like." Twigpaw's ears quickly flattened. Perhaps this was not a conversation he'd enjoy eavesdropping on, but a spontaneous anger started to reach his throat and the tips of his claws, holding him in place.
"Hey, don't lash your tail at me. I'm trying to listen to you I'm just not understanding." Beaverheart must have been practically against the wall, because Twigpaw couldn't see him past Tempest's back at all.
"That's the problem, I don't either! It wasn't a raccoon, I'm sure of that, but I don't know if it was a sign or some weird animal or something else entirely. I don't know how to describe it more than I already have." Tempest had never allowed the snarl in his voice to show in front of the rest of the Clan usually. Everyone had seen how quickly Tempest grew to trust Beaverheart over the rest of EveningClan, possibly more than even his own sister. The response from Beaverheart was a quiet, thoughtful hum. Clearly the housecat's aggressive tone was still not off-putting to the warrior.
"Tell me everything you remember. How many times have you seen it?"
"Only the one time. It was... it wasn't close to me, but not too far away that I couldn't tell it looked like a golden cat. It had a weird face, like... like some of the features were either unclear or gone. It looked like it was supposed to have stripes but they were moving. Then it just ran off somewhere. I don't remember anything else, but I know it wasn't a raccoon."
Long, tense silence filled the gap and Tempest's ears had fallen, though what emotion he was really feeling was unclear from where Twigpaw sat. Twigpaw, for one, had become deeply confused but no less angry. He didn't know if he liked any of the answers he could think of for what Tempest had seen. Either this was a very difficult sign to decipher, or Tempest had become hyperfixed on an outsider and was panicking for nothing.
"I don't know, Tempest, I'm sorry. I want to help but this isn't really my area of expertise. Maybe we could talk to Rimefreckle about it some time, I can be there with you if you want that. Does that sound okay?"
Tempest was quiet for a heartbeat, but then he sighed almost dejectedly and mewed, "okay," before he turned. He barely acknowledged that Twigpaw was there, glancing at him momentarily while he kept heading for the camp exit. Beaverheart on the other paw had to visibly push down his shocked face at the apprentice's supervision in order to continue focusing on Tempest.
"Do you need help to get back to the humans in this weather?" The housecat shook his head.
"I'll be fine, thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, Beaverheart."
"See you tomorrow, Tempest." Once the paler cat was gone, Beaverheart looked back at Twigpaw with the gentleness fading from his expression. The brown cat got to his paws, claws still pricking into the cold dirt. The warrior's face scrunched up.
"Twigpaw, I don't need to know why you were eavesdropping. But I'm going to ask that you don't concern yourself with anything you've heard. Your focus needs to remain on your training at this stage in your life." The two cats held an unkind gaze for a long while. Twigpaw's mouth opened slightly, wanting some kind of argument to spill out for whatever reason. By no means did he dislike Beaverheart, but there was a lingering fury. Any accusatory questions that ran through Twigpaw's mind, though, he knew the tabby couldn't answer.
"Yes, Beaverheart," he mumbled, stalking towards his den for a night of no sleep.
Twigkit > Twigpaw: Charming > Charismatic
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