FLY ME TO THE MOON ★ private

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    EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

    copperkit / thunderclan kitten / ♀ / tags

    *:･ﾟ✦ Copperkit's lifespan had always been theorized on, ever since she was born and presumed a stillborn before anyone could check her pulse. When she was younger, she had a voracious appetite. She would always eat as much as she could and had been the first to try her first mouse, but as time went on and as her vitality waned, her appetite too disappeared. The kitten chub never disappeared, but from the look of her sunken eyes and dull fur, it was obvious from one glance that she was always one step behind the others her age. Her peers would continue to grow and flourish, but Copperkit was left in stasis, always stuck in the medicine den, stolen away from time itself. Sometimes she liked it that way, because she could grow and learn by her own rules. Other times, Copperkit wish she could escape the prison her body had confined her in and go far beyond the perimeters it had set for her at birth.


    The night was long and dark, and the atmosphere of the medicine cat den seemed to alter time itself to make every second feel like an hour. An owl screeched in the distance as it swooped down to steal away a mouse, and a nightingale crowed deftly close by. Every single sound the blanket of night brought echoed in her ears and created a room with walls that bounced back every wail and cry. With the turn of night, a bitter cold also seeped into the bones of every warrior and every apprentice, and it furthermore ached in the heart of Copperkit. She shifted in her nest every few seconds to see if she could salvage some warmth and stave off the frostbite that threatened to claim her toes. As the night continued, her limbs eventually began to go numb and the intense, primal sense of survival made the tiny, sickly kitten raise from her bed and stumble into the main area of the den. A draft of cold night air tore through the bramble thickets and buffered against her tiny, shivering body, nearly blowing her over. She quickened her pace, stumbling and shambling her way to the location of Cherryburn, her cold paws ginger and her teeth chattering. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, Copperkit aimed to gently prod the warrior awake.


    THORNKIT.

    the bleached sun had watched over them—bleak, forlorn, uncaring—as they struggled to keep their paws feeling something rather than nothing and a scrap of food to keep their bellies warm. it did little more than weakly wash over their pelts, bathing them in a lukewarm light that would only leave them colder than before when they took to the shade of the forest. it did not feel sorrow when another of the thin scraps of fur was too weak to rise in the morning, or weep when they fell into a deep, deep slumber.


    her gemini split suns were earthbound, watching over those of her people, hungry and weak. they shone with a radiance comparable only to the summer sun, passionate and heated, always saying something (even if about nothing at all). and with them, she treated their ailments with a brusque hand and a nettling tongue; stalked and killed and provided, no matter the hollow desire that tried to consume her, yet wilted in the face of iron will; wove thorns with pricked paws and bloody pads, refusing to bend her knee towards pain nor the cold.


    this goddess girl bore eyes of molten copper that refused to weep and a body of chiseled sandstone; had the constitution of a young bull; the prowess of a huntress untouched by age or time. and yet she slept. fitfully were her nights spent, tossing and turning as dreams easily forgotten laughed beneath her eyelids. the cold was of no assistance, though she happily welcomed the cold over a sunny day, and many hours were lost shivering and proudly refusing to slip into the warrior's den among her warm bodied peers. but so still and quiet she had grown, having long accepted her fate with distaste, that she seemed dead.


    the feather soft patter of small paws escaped her notice, ignorant of the child's woes and willing to remain so if she had not been roused by her. baleful eyes peered between cracked eyelids, shadows of a copper hue failing to gleam in the gloom of the den, and a heavy breath was soon to follow, billowing brume like ash from a dragon's maw. for many long moments she stared at the wee creature who had woken her, perhaps deciding whether or not cannibalism was explicitly outlawed by the oath.


    with every second that passed, the fact that she was awake registered sourly in her brain, and sleep was now her elusive mistress. and after many long moments, her pale form shifted in the half light, the nest rustling and creaking mutedly beneath her weight, as she turned her back towards the entrance (and the source of the cold breeze). a small space lay bare between her curled up tangle of limbs and tail, waiting. she made a small noise in her throat, quietly mumbling something along the lines of "move it, kiddo" as she relented without a fight.

    ･ﾟ✦ —— tags

    EMPTY CHAIRS AT EMPTY TABLES

    copperkit / thunderclan kitten / ♀ / tags

    *:･ﾟ✦ Moments pass, and each second that went by without so much as a recognition seemed like an hour to her, and each minute a week. Two yellow orbs, concern flickering in both, cast off weak luminance in the nocturnal half-light, but they never seemed to fully rouse the feline of her interests. Her movements became more frantic as the night’s breath grew more forceful and frigid, as if ice crystals would suddenly attatch to her fur if she stood shivering in the darkness for even a moment longer.


    Copperkit began to look elsewhere for warmth, considering all options in her flaxen gaze. The clockwork cycled within her and she turned on a point, taking up the moonlight-cast scenery in her eyes. The herb stash was locked up with yellow tape for as long as she could remember, and her nest, decorated with plush pigeon feathers and mounds of lichen and moss, was likely already turned cold by the breath of the wild. In passing thought, she looked past the mouth of the den, where darkness crowded, and she weighed the option of making the perilous journey from one side of the camp to the nursery, where it smelled of comforting milk and mildew and where mother and brother snoozed peacefully among the fern. The temptation almost blinded her to the possibilities, but she stood firm and shook her head, as if to rid her of the thought, knowing that any step out of her home of comfort might just as soon whisk her to the stars. Deep inside, a seed called her, telling her in confidence that she would not die tonight. Copperkit hoped to trust it.


    Her eyes strayed again, but they would need to wander no more. Her head whipped back to place as the unfettered locum roused slightly. A pit of anxiety ignited within her stomach once she noticed the distaste within the waxing twin moons, yet it just as quickly vanished once she shifted to make room. Sensing the heat radiating from the space, once occupied by pale fur, Copperkit nearly rejoiced, but she instead opted to hurry in, prompted by her shepherd’s quick tongue. With a purr rumbling deep from her chest, she crawled in silently, and settled with her long, thin tail resting over her nose.


    "Thanks, Cherry," she whispered, a yawn on her breath.