My Kits and I, alone again
Couple: Thistlestar and Lyra (NPC)
Kits: Tinykit, Cricketkit & Petalkit
Walking through the woods, Thistlestar kepts his nose raised, sniff as he patrolled. He walked along the path, hackles raised as the scent of a non-clan cat was on the territory. In a rush, Thistlestar followed the scent, launching when the smell is around the corner. His teeth were bared as he hissed.
However, as he landed, he was caught off by giggling. Thistlestar looked at the cat cautiously before taking a step back. "What are you doing on my territory?" he demanded.
The cat continued to giggle before stopping and looking at him with a pleased expression. "Isn't this fun? Oh, it is, it is," She giggled again.
Thistlestar frowned. "Who are you?" he asked, feeling defensive of his territory with this cat. "What do you want?"
"OH nevermind me, I'll see you again," She giggled, hopping away.
Then, she kept appearing, sometimes in the corner of his vision, sometimes by a repeat of when he first met her.
Slowly, they grew closer, talking about life, the clan, just about anything.
...
Thistlestar walked alongside his mate, shoulder to shoulder. He was hidden in the shadows of the woods, away from his clan. The smell of the trees was prominent as rain trickled down them. "You know I can't do this. Please, join my clan. My Kits will be safe there, accepted."
The cat curled her tail into his. "I'm not made for clan life. You know that."
As the rain hit softly, leaving a deafening silence while they walked together, with a crunch of leaves with each step. "I know," Thistlestar sighed, resigned over the fate of his Kits. "Will I ever get to see them?"
His mate looked at him then down at her large belly. "Thistle, I would never take your own kin away from you. They don't deserve to live the life of a rogue."
Thistlestar stumbled back as his mate ran her head along his.
"My dear, I am going to have these kits then we can meet at our special place and you can have them. Make them a part of your clan."
With a sigh Thistlestar nodded. "Is there no way I can convince you to join my clan?"
The rogue shook her head. "The clan life is not made for me. I've been alone for too long."
With a sad smile, the rogue turned away, walking into the darkness. "Meet me at our usual place."
"How will I know when?"
"You'll know, Thistle."
......
Thistlestar did not understand then but understands now. The night is silent with a clear sky and a quiet woods, birds chirping and cats snoring. Yet, Thistlestar felt something wrong.
Standing up, Thistlestar awkwardly left his den, sneaking off into the woods. Luckily, the cats on guard were current swapping with others so nobody was around to question him.
As he ran, Thistlestar entered the clearing. The place where he first met the rogue. The clearing was just as empty as he remembered it. Thistlestar raised his nose, trying to sniff and see if the rogue had been. However, her scent was distant.
Thistlestar wondered around before approaching a tree. He circled around it, smelling his mate. The more he smelt, the less she was there. The tom looked at a hole in the tree, one he knew too well. They would often leave gifts for each other other and looking in, sure enough, there was a gift. One last gift. The kin of Thistlestar. Quiet and asleep, waiting for him. She left them, he realised, alone with hopes that he would find them.
In the end, she was just as mysterious and free-spirited as she had been when they first met.
However, as he landed, he was caught off by giggling. Thistlestar looked at the cat cautiously before taking a step back. "What are you doing on my territory?" he demanded.
The cat continued to giggle before stopping and looking at him with a pleased expression. "Isn't this fun? Oh, it is, it is," She giggled again.
Thistlestar frowned. "Who are you?" he asked, feeling defensive of his territory with this cat. "What do you want?"
"OH nevermind me, I'll see you again," She giggled, hopping away.
Then, she kept appearing, sometimes in the corner of his vision, sometimes by a repeat of when he first met her.
Slowly, they grew closer, talking about life, the clan, just about anything.
...
Thistlestar walked alongside his mate, shoulder to shoulder. He was hidden in the shadows of the woods, away from his clan. The smell of the trees was prominent as rain trickled down them. "You know I can't do this. Please, join my clan. My Kits will be safe there, accepted."
The cat curled her tail into his. "I'm not made for clan life. You know that."
As the rain hit softly, leaving a deafening silence while they walked together, with a crunch of leaves with each step. "I know," Thistlestar sighed, resigned over the fate of his Kits. "Will I ever get to see them?"
His mate looked at him then down at her large belly. "Thistle, I would never take your own kin away from you. They don't deserve to live the life of a rogue."
Thistlestar stumbled back as his mate ran her head along his.
"My dear, I am going to have these kits then we can meet at our special place and you can have them. Make them a part of your clan."
With a sigh Thistlestar nodded. "Is there no way I can convince you to join my clan?"
The rogue shook her head. "The clan life is not made for me. I've been alone for too long."
With a sad smile, the rogue turned away, walking into the darkness. "Meet me at our usual place."
"How will I know when?"
"You'll know, Thistle."
......
Thistlestar did not understand then but understands now. The night is silent with a clear sky and a quiet woods, birds chirping and cats snoring. Yet, Thistlestar felt something wrong.
Standing up, Thistlestar awkwardly left his den, sneaking off into the woods. Luckily, the cats on guard were current swapping with others so nobody was around to question him.
As he ran, Thistlestar entered the clearing. The place where he first met the rogue. The clearing was just as empty as he remembered it. Thistlestar raised his nose, trying to sniff and see if the rogue had been. However, her scent was distant.
Thistlestar wondered around before approaching a tree. He circled around it, smelling his mate. The more he smelt, the less she was there. The tom looked at a hole in the tree, one he knew too well. They would often leave gifts for each other other and looking in, sure enough, there was a gift. One last gift. The kin of Thistlestar. Quiet and asleep, waiting for him. She left them, he realised, alone with hopes that he would find them.
In the end, she was just as mysterious and free-spirited as she had been when they first met.