- Jun 28, 2024
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There was something to be said on the power of a wild imagination. It could grasp ahold of it's user with such intensity, it makes some believe the impossible is not only within grasp but the only option.
Warblerkit had very little colour in his life. Soon after he was born it was discovered that he was blind. While that wasn't the worst fate to befall a cat it certainly made the nursery more dull. It also wasn't the only thing holding the young cat back, he was frail, constantly harboring some sort of cold or fever. The fur around his nose was thin and the skin itself was raw from constant pawing and dripping. He was kept most times safely out of reach of the other kits, lest he give them whatever he had, or worse a small sniffle for them could turn into something much worse if he were to catch it. That's at least what Honeydapple would tell him.
An ever doting mother she was. She kept her baby safe and tried her best to keep him entertained as well. Usually this turned into stories, wonderous stories of the past and myths. Old tyrants like Sootstar and how StarClan came to be. More often than not the stories also turned to Grizzlyjaw, Warblerkit's father, he had disappeared at some point, and while Warblerkit couldn't see his mother's face when she spoke about him he could hear the tone shift. Melancholy and longing, it fueled the same feeling in his own heart. Sometimes as he drifted off to sleep he would just try his hardest to picture this mythical tom, the one that he is supposed to look so much like.
It was chilly that morning, when Warblerkit woke up. It was by his estimation before dawn, there was a little light but not enough to wake most other cats. Including his mother, who he was curled against. He slowly pulled himself away from her warmth and as quietly as he could stepped out of their nest. See this morning he was going to find his father, surely he would be somewhere near ThunderClan, and then he would be a hero. He would help his mother, she would no longer have to be sad. He would have a father like most of the other kits. ThunderClan would even have another warrior back among their ranks, it was perfect. Nothing could go wrong.
He didn't know it but his smoky coat and small sickly frame made for excellent cover under the slowly greying sky. Even if a cat was awake at this hour, chances are they wouldn't notice the small slow-moving kitten anyway. He was very slow, each step had to be made with caution, he didn't have vision, but he also was missing much of ability to smell that day. A lingering side effect from a recent sniffle he had fought off. His main sense was noise, he could hear where the chilled wind blew at the grassy edges of clan and eventually the tussle of the brambles bushes incasing him in camp. From there he slowly edged alongside the perimeter of camp, using his tail to drag along the side trying to find a suitable exit.
It finally came and he stepped out from the safety of camp. Brambles tugged at his thin fur but he persisted until he could feel soft grass under foot. The wind whipped through the trees above him and finally he allowed himself to feel some of the chill that had been eating at his bones since he left the nursery. "Dad?" he barely let the word out, but this is what he came for. He stood there for a long time, listening to the sounds around him, they were the same as he heard from the safety of camp and yet they seemed all the more threating now.
Even with the fear pounding in his chest, he took his first steps on his journey. Warblerkit's mind was filled with ideas of what might be around him, every so often he could just barely make out the idea of a shape before it fell back into the unknown. His hackles were raised as he continued, his imagination began to wander to stories of dogs and rogues, an upsetting notion as he slowly made each step forward.
It was long before something finally stood in front of the little tom. First his paw had felt a little raise in the terrain and then before he could consider it, his nose was driven straight into the bark of a tree. It all became too much in that moment. In the sunlight that just began to touch the forest, Warblerkit sat at the base of his tree, tears sliding down his cheeks.
He hadn't found his father. His mother was probably worried that he had disappeared just like Grizzlyjaw. He was cold. He didn't know how to get home. Most of all he was scared.
"Mom... dad..." his weak voice carried it's way through the trees like a ghost.
"speech"
ooc: Warblerkit snuck through a small hole near the back of camp, he is now maybe 20 feet from camp sitting at a tree
