look for an a[p]ricot under the trees

A young gray kit in RadicalClan was walking around. Unlike her usual pointless walks, this one had some form of a purpose. Flintkit had met quite a few cats since she had joined, but she was certain that there were many more living in the abandoned houses of RadicalClan camp. Therefore, Flintkit was in search of a new face. Any new face. She found it quite interesting to meet fellow RadicalClanners.

At first, her search had begun in the centre of town. But gradually, the apprentice-aged kit made her way to the outskirts, and dove into the forest. Its green colour was considerably less present at wintertime, and there were a few traces from where it had been snowing a week or so ago. The dark gray cat remembered, because she had talked to Quarterpup for a little while, watching her cinnamon tail streak in the snow. The snow should come again sometime soon, Flintkit thought hopefully. And she continued to walk through the trees.

Flintkit had been on edge, on the lookout, or else she would have started at the voice calling out behind her. The dark gray cat stopped walking and turned around to see an albino serval heading through the trees in her direction. The feline looked somewhat familiar, and Flintkit was sure she'd seen her before. They hadn't officially met, though, not like this. The apprentice-aged kit gave a nod. "That's me. And might I be reminded of your name?" asked Flintkit, head ducked somewhat apologetically for forgetting her clanmate's name.

"Alright then, Vanilla," spoke the dark gray cat with a small smile. The name seemed to suit the white-furred feline. When put together, the full title sounded official and almost royal. Flintkit wondered if the serval had any relatives of high position. "Yeah, it is pretty chilly," admitted the feline, surveying the forest around her. A small shiver reached through her short fur and shook her shoulders. Flintkit looked back at the other RadicalClanner. "But I kind of like it," she laughed softly. The low temperature only came once a year, and it let the dark gray kit sharpen her senses after being in the muggy shelter of a twoleg house. "Don't worry, I won't stay out long enough to catch a cold," she teased. It was nice to know that the albino cared about her wellbeing. "We can go somewhere else a little later if you like."

"What about you? What is your favorite time of the year?"

A little lighthearted laugh escaped from Flintkit's lips. "Spring," echoed the dark gray cat. "The sun is just so friendly during spring, that no one can resist saying hello to him, even in their sleep. Or maybe she's a girl," she added, laughing again. Glancing around her, Vanilla's words also had sensible meaning. It did seem that springtime was the awakening of life. "It's quite a pleasure to see all the sparkling dew on a spring morning, after the slumber of winter. Maybe some of the dewdrops are secretly tears of happiness, from Mr. Sun. He's glad when all the flowers wake up to greet him." For some reason, Flintkit felt mild giddiness today.

Flintkit focused on the serval as she uttered the last words. She wondered if there was any particular reason that the albino didn't like Autumn. Perhaps there was an unpleasant memory lingering behind the albino's words. Leaving that subject unmentioned, Flintkit shared her least favorite time of year. "I'm not a big fan of Summer. It's too long and hot for me," she mewed lazily, dipping a paw in a nearby patch of snow. "Mr. Sun gets a little angry by that time of the year, and stares down at us with boiling eyes. But I enjoy the other three seasons."

Flintkit gave a crooked smile. "I think it's kind of funny when we're all walking around with poofy fur. But I agree, it's more comfortable to let my fur lie flat," said the seven moon old. "You don't have to worry about catching a cold during summertime." Well, you did, because sickness could come at any time of the year, but Vanilla knew what she meant.

At the mention of swimming, Flintkit felt a little awkward, and the smile slipped off her face. "The thing is... I don't really know how to swim. Not yet. I can wade around in the shallows, but I wouldn't stand a chance in the deep end," admitted the feline a bit sheepishly. The dark gray cat's shoulders were broad, and she might even prove a good swimmer in the future, but not without practice. She hadn't ever swum in her life. "I bet you can swim pretty well though," Flintkit guessed. Some tension had gathered in her ribs at the thought of flailing about in the water; at the mention of the Sun's gender, however, she relaxed and regained her smile. "Mrs. Sun. Definitely."

"Now that -" mewed Flintkit, "- sounds like a great idea. I'll accept your offer, if you don't mind," the dark gray cat dipped her head with mock seriousness. "I will be ready to learn, master."

Flintkit bobbed her head in agreement. "Yeah," and she glanced once more around the forest. "It's a pretty nice place. Especially once you get to know your clanmates." Her blue eyes flicked back to the serval. "And it isn't even that bad for the toms. If they are truly loyal and kind, they always have the chance to get promoted to Scully Boy."