C
curly
Guest
[ ❊ ] It had felt as if the whole world went cold that day. Freezing winds brushing through gorse, reaching even the protected camp in their intensity blew into the nursery, ruffling a she-cat's fur. There was not much to do when her lungs gave out, unable to name any of her children before passing on. It wouldn't matter, anyways; it seemed leafbare had claimed them too, only one still gulping in breaths without any warmth to grasp on to as her mother's fur slowly went cold. There were no attempts to latch on, limbs struggling to move at all or even to roll over. Frecklestripe waited, then, watching the only thing he had left as her life would too surely fade in the unforgiving frigid air.
"My little miracle," he said, curled around her tiny body in the nest, licking her cheek as she let out a soft squeak. The cold sadness still remained in his gaze; everything else he had was taken from him by this leaf-bare. He wouldn't let anything hurt her, now that she was here to stay. Her chest slowly raised up and down as the kit slept with a comfortable smile on her maw. Safe and loved; that was all she wanted, and even without a mother, she had someone to be that for her. For now.
Her dad didn't come back to clean her fur or talk comforting words since then. The surprise of her being there had worn off, and the most important thing was that she stayed that way. With other queens and the medicine cats to keep her safe, Curlykit remained in the nursery, sheltered from the worst of what remained of the season, hidden away from sickness and injury. Frecklestripe went out on hunting patrols every day, only returning when his strength gave out and walking right back to his nest to sleep alone. Grief is a powerful feeling; fear maybe even moreso.
The world had began to thaw, and the sun shone down onto them in the early morning, one of the rays reaching the ground outside the gorse den. Curlykit's eyes drawn to the shine, she took a few steps outside. Her maw went slightly ajar and her eyes sparkled; everything was so vibrant! Even though it was all shrubs and small puddles and sandy ground, the camp was beautiful in the light. The three-moon-old shekit would begin to walk through, taking in the little details there were, eyes flitting through the different cats going about their day. Maybe her dad was going to be one of them? She didn't see him... maybe he had already left. It didn't matter to her much. What did was exploring and finding something fun to do.
[ a broken world with nothing less ]