2. The Afterlife
Hawkthorn strolled forward, dragging his tail along the ground as he passed through camp, ears pressed back as he kept his eyes lowered to the ground. He knew that cats were worried, thinking he was going back to his old nature: cold and vindictive. The tom ignored cats that called out to him, that he considered to be friends, rolling his shoulder and walking in the opposite direction when they tried to approach.
As Hawkthorn was heading back out of the camp, hissing at the cats that tried to talk to him, he found a set of eyes staring up at him. “Heatherkit,” he greeted, jolting back, “You should be in the nursery.”
“I know, but we’re bored – and Orchidkit won’t stop crying.”
The tom promptly picked up the kit, walking her back to the nursery without giving a response. As he entered, he kept his eye on only the kits, avoiding the queens. Hawkthorn gently placed Heatherkit down. “I miss mum,” Orchidkit mewed as Hawkthorn curled himself around the kits.
Hawkthorn nuzzled against the kit. “I know, I miss her too, but she’s with the ancestors now.”
“But I want her here with us,” Heatherkit cut in, swishing her tail.
“She’s always with you, watching over you,” Hawkthorn whispered, “
“How do we know she’s really there?” Asterkit asked, suddenly watching his uncle.
“You have to believe it. She’s the eagle that soars overhead and the breeze that smells of daisies by the stream outside of camp.”
The kits watched the tom with wide eyes. “Plus, I’m going to be here. I’ll protect you, don’t you worry, young ones,” Hawkthorn mumbled as he fell into a slumber, kits pressed tightly against him.
As Hawkthorn was heading back out of the camp, hissing at the cats that tried to talk to him, he found a set of eyes staring up at him. “Heatherkit,” he greeted, jolting back, “You should be in the nursery.”
“I know, but we’re bored – and Orchidkit won’t stop crying.”
The tom promptly picked up the kit, walking her back to the nursery without giving a response. As he entered, he kept his eye on only the kits, avoiding the queens. Hawkthorn gently placed Heatherkit down. “I miss mum,” Orchidkit mewed as Hawkthorn curled himself around the kits.
Hawkthorn nuzzled against the kit. “I know, I miss her too, but she’s with the ancestors now.”
“But I want her here with us,” Heatherkit cut in, swishing her tail.
“She’s always with you, watching over you,” Hawkthorn whispered, “
“How do we know she’s really there?” Asterkit asked, suddenly watching his uncle.
“You have to believe it. She’s the eagle that soars overhead and the breeze that smells of daisies by the stream outside of camp.”
The kits watched the tom with wide eyes. “Plus, I’m going to be here. I’ll protect you, don’t you worry, young ones,” Hawkthorn mumbled as he fell into a slumber, kits pressed tightly against him.