TAGS — Sootstar's loss of a life had been a particular point of curiosity for Scorchkit and her littermates at the time of the patrol's return. Rumblekit had posed the question to their mother: what did it mean that Sootstar had
died? And when Badgermoon had answered that query, Scorchkit could only grow more confused. If WindClan was itself blessed by StarClan, why could they not all come back to life? Did it even hurt Sootstar to
die? Scorchkit isn't sure. She rarely is sure, it seems; what with WindClan's defeats and these concepts a kitten can hardly grasp, there is not much to know concretelly these days.
When she sees Soostar lounging outside of her den, her first instinct is to avoid the blue-smoked molly altogether. It is not an impulse born of fear, though; rather, she has been taught her place as a kitten, and her rung in the social ladder lies far below her leader's. Besides, surely she would be aided more by resting than by pestering kittens. But Scorchkit remembers Sootstar greeting them all in the nursery back before trepidation and anxiety had lodged its dull claws in her ribcage. She'd been warm, then, and as she naps in the green-leaf sun she looks warm still, if not a bit more haggard than before. So Scorchkit approaches after all, though her thin tail hangs low to articulate her respect more clearly.
"
Hello Sootstar," the girl greets, expression placid but bicolor eyes shining with rare opportunity. Her questions about life and death and StarClan's place in it all form tempests behind her teeth, but she struggles to find the words to ask them. Instead, after a great pause, she opts for something simpler: "
... How are you?"
