KITS?! (Open to All Leafclanners)

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Willowflame was perplexed. She hadn't felt very hungry lately, and she hadn't eaten as much as she had been. but still, she was gaining weight. A lot of weight. It was morning, and she lay in her nest, just waking up from the last night's sleep. Not quite ready to leave the warrior's den yet, she just lay there, looking at her swollen belly. It was as if a boulder had been placed inside her in her lower belly, between her hind legs. What was wrong with her? She had t eaten enough to be this large. And besides, her legs wee getting thinner! Was she sick?
Heaving herself to her feet, she lumbered toward the door. She was huge. Her steps labored and clumsy, she walked toward the fresh kill pile. The cat pidgeon on top looked pretty good- it seemed her appetite had come back somewhat. but when she reached the pile, the smell of the meat turned her stomach. Rushing for the dirt place, she felt last night's dinner rise in her throat. She just made it, throwing up into the bushes.
Had her food last night been rotten? but shouldn't the symptoms made themselves known during the night? Why now, the morning after. Wait... Morning. Sickness. Morning sickness... Swollen belly... Losing appetite. Willowflame gasped. It was impossible. but it had to be true. Laying down again, she considered the bulge between her hips. Now that she thought about it, it did look a lot like the bumps she had seen many queens inflate with.
Her first thought was her mate. She had to tell him. Again she pulled herself up. Ugh. She hated being so large. Slowly she lumbered out of camp to the place she usually met him. As luck would have it, she always met him around this time every quarter moon- today. She seamy to their meeting place, an open clearing with many birds and wildflowers, and waited. It was nearly sunhigh when he came. There was a strange look on his face.
"Willowflame," he began, "I'm leaving. It's not you... It's me. but I have to leave. Probably forever. Goodbye, love." He turned.
"but!" She called. He did not turn, although his step faltered ever so slightly. "Wait!" He burst into a run. Willowflame tried to give chase, but her body was so bulky she could hardly get up, much less follow him. He was long gone.
Distraught, she stomped back to camp. She did not intend to stomp, but her large stomach made if very difficult to glide quietly like she usually did. It seemed to take eternity to reach the camp. Wedging through the entrance- she hated that she was so big she could barely get back in- she thumped to the center of the clearing. Her eyes filled with pain, she watched the clan. What could she do? She was ready to spill her secret to any cat who would listen.

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¢ℓσνєяραω σƒ ℓєαƒ¢ℓαη

The newly named apprentice padded back into the camp, the bags under her eyes suggesting her obvious exhaustion, if the way she moved slowly wasn't a hint enough. She dropped a sparrow and a thrush at the fresh kill pile, sighing tiredly but with a sort of satisfied edge to it. She had just returned from yet another hunt, the third that day, and she could feel her legs trembling underneath her, threatening to give out. She had been recently named after the loss of her brother and half-sister, and ever since that, she had set herself to a strict schedule, determined to make up for the lost delayed moons of what should had been her apprenticeship. It mainly consisted of focusing on the different tiers she had identified in the warrior life, fighting, hunting, and patrolling. Of course, she couldn't convince her mentor it was the right thing to do, in fact, any cat she mentioned her little system to had deemed her crazy, but she stuck to it the best she could nevertheless, doing a border patrol whenever her mentor asked her to but immediately sneaking out to hunt after. Today was her hunting day, and thankfully her mentor was nowhere in sight, so she didn't have to deal with his protests of how she was overworking herself too fast and too soon. However, she was satisfied with her hunting skills today; catching the fat but swift sparrow just before it took off at the last second after miscalculating her position. To reward herself, she finally allowed herself to take her pick from the fresh kill pile, choosing a plump squirrel and padding over into the middle of the clearing to sit down and enjoy her meal, assessing her recent hunting through her mind, going through her flaws obsessively. 

Looking up at the sound of loud thuds and pawsteps, she looked up, expecting to see a strong and bulky warrior returning from a patrol, or perhaps a hunt. Instead, she found a particularly large, upset-looking she-cat who seemed to be having trouble weaving her way in and out of the clan with her large stomach. Trying to stifle her laughter, her amusement was interrupted by the pained look in the poor she-cat's eyes, startling her with the amount of emotion. Struggling to not feel awkward, she flicked her tail, a subtle gesture to urge the she-cat over to where she sat. She was overwhelmed by a sort of concern for the she-cat, which was strange and a new feeling to her. She was quite suspicious of those around her, even her clan, but when a fellow clanmate had such a hurt look, she couldn't help herself but to ask why. Besides, she could've just returned from a battle or a hunt or something, she might have important information relevant to the clan's workings and security.

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Willowflame weaves through the crowd of cats with diffuculty, wondering where she would sit. She considered getting some prey from the fresh kill pile, but she didn't really feel hungry. She just wanted to sit down and rest. However, she didn't really want to sit alone. Right now, she wanted company, and a cat to talk to. Suddenly, she noticed a young cat subtly beckoning her over. It was Cloverpaw, a young apprentice. Gratefully, she make her way clumsily over to the youngster and sat heavily.
Cloverpaw looked tired, with dark circles under her eyes. Willowflame remembered the cat's mentor telling her about the harsh training regime Cloverpaw had imposed on herself. She looked exhausted, but then, Willowflame wasn't exactly looking perky and energetic herself. Willowflame guessed she looked tired and upset- and she was upset. Where was her mate? He had disappeared, and just when she found out she was expecting his kits. Where could be be?
Willowflame wanted to find out, but she didn't know if she could ask anyone without arousing suspicion. Especially if she told them she was expecting first. She imagined how that would sound- I'm expecting kits, have you seen any loner toms around? No, of course my mate's not a loner, I just really want to see a certain tom... No, that was out of the question.
Suddenly she had an idea. Cloverpaw had just been out in the territory, maybe she'd seen him. And Cloverpaw was perfect because if Willowflame didn't tell the young cat her secret, she was probably too young and inexperienced with this kind of thing to guess it on her own.
"Hi, Cloverpaw," she started, "Nice catch you had there." Willowflame was too upset to be subtle. She just ask bluntly, "Have you seen a loner on the territory? He has blue eyes and long fur..." Willowflame hopefully awaited the younger cat's answer. Please let her know where he is, she thought, please.

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¢ℓσνєяpαω σƒ ℓєαƒ¢ℓαη

The young white she-cat looked up at Willowflame, ears pricked with curiosity. She was only half done her prey and longed for more, but there was something about the urgency and worry in the warrior's voice that convinced her to shove down her appetite, which was protesting and screaming for more. Ignoring the rumble that emitted from her stomach, she instead stared at her paws with an intense glare. On the outside, it probably looked pretty strange and quite peculiar, but Cloverpaw didn't care. Because on the inside, she was going over her day, analyzing every bit and piece of information that contained knowledge of the outside world and their cats. Swiftly assessing the territory she had hunted over in her mind, she landed on the exact memory she had been searching for. As if pulling it out of thin air, she saw the scene happen before her eyes, focusing in on the appearance of the loner she had spotted previously, making note of any significant traits. "Blue eyes. Long, ruffled fur. Slight fear scent. A strange look about him. Loner, not rogue." She recited, closing her eyes and trying to grasp the memory that was quickly fading, but it vanished quickly. Mouse-dung. She cursed silently, but shook her head, staring up at Willowflame, her interest now thoroughly piqued.

"Why do you ask?" She questioned, cocking her head in a nonchalant fashion. She didn't want to pry, but she would if it meant figuring out why the she-cat had made such a strange request in the first place. Immediately, her natural and extremely suspicious but keen instincts screamed treason, but this confused her. How had it been treason if the tom was now gone? Had she been trading secrets with him? Did she fight him off? He looked about Willowflame's age, so he couldn't have been a parent; perhaps a sibling? The thought of a romantic relationship never even occurred to her, for she was Cloudpaw, and if there was one thing that Cloudpaw didn't know anything about, which was rare, was anything involving romance, friendship, or socializing.

{{Sorry for the crappy post; low muse.}}

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(It's okay, it happens.)

Willowflame felt the younger cat's curiosity boring into her. Of course, there was no way she would tell the younger cat the truth. That would just be tactless and stupid. Clearly Cloverpaw was too loyal to take that well. So Willowflame had to make something up, and fast.
"Um... I thought I saw him, and I was worried he was stealing prey..." The lies came ore smoothly now. "So I chased him off. but when I went out for some fresh air this morning I saw a cat that looked kinda like him... And so I was wondering if it was really him, because if it was I'd have to go and really teach him a lesson."
To her the story sounded feeble. but hopefully Cloverpaw believed it. Because Willowflame wasn't going to tell her the truth, no matter what. That didn't mean she wouldn't go to extreme measures to find the father of the kits that now grew inside her, mind you. It just meant she wasn't going to let Cloverpaw in on the secret into the kits were born, at which post she'd kind of have to let everyone in on the fact that she was a mother. She didn't know what she would say when they asked who the kits father was... but she was getting sidetracked. She wanted to steer Cloverpaw away from any routes that would lead to her story being questioned, so she continued, "If you did see him, I hope he was heading towards the border."

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Cloverpaw of Leafclan

Confused even more now, Cloverpaw had trouble following Willowflame's quick words, which gradually grew smoother and more at ease. Suspicion sparked in the white apprentice, but she said nothing, her analytical mind already mulling over every word. She searched for something, anything, that was less than the truth, but the dizziness and exhaustion from her busy day and previous hunts were catching up to her, rendering her slightly less capable of detecting lies than she actually could if she had been in a different situation, in a different state. but now, here she was, at a sort of stalemate with the she-cat. She couldn't tell whether or not she was lying, but she was sure there had to be at least one lie in there. 

In her mind, she didn't really care what the lie was; she wanted to know why she had lied, and she was determined to find out, because if there was anything that Cloverpaw hated more than not being able to detect a lie, it was actually being lied to. Now frustrated with the situation she was in, her fiery temper began to slowly make an appearance. Her fur bristled slightly and her tail lashed, but only once, then it fell to the ground, limp. 

"I don't quite know if he was heading toward the border or not." She said vaguely, her eyes narrowed. She knew what the genuine answer was, but she was slightly angered now, for if this she-cat would not be sincere, she would not be sincere either. "If you'd like, I still have his scent trail. We can go hunt him down." Now here was the interesting point, where Cloverpaw's worst traits came out. She was young, yes, and sort of inexperienced and new to the world of warriors and apprenticeship and battles and borders, but she carried a sort of authority about her, a wariness and keen sense about the world that she had always had even as a kit, and even a small amount of intimidation, especially to younger cats, whether they were kits or just one moon younger than her. She was well aware of her rank in the clan, and of the warrior's rank of the clan; but the sharp anger in her eyes, the protest ready to leap out of her mouth, was a clear sign that she would not take no for an answer. And if she did get no anyway, she would go by herself, and hunt down this loner that had been treading through forbidden territory. It was more than protecting the warrior code and her clan now; it was getting personal. She was being lied to.

And Cloverpaw hated liars.

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Willowflame flinched away from the apprentice's fury. It was clear Cloverpaw had guessed she was being lied to, or at least that something was being held back. Now Cloverpaw would never rest until she found the truth.
but Willowflame certainly wasn't going to tell her the secret. Corpse would be informed at the same time as the rest of the clan- when her kits were born. Would the apprentice guess then, when she had kits whose father she would not tell them, who that father had to be? Would she associate the loner Tom with Willowflame? Would she realize why Willowflame was so desperate to see him?
Willowflame hoped not.
"Due, Cloverpaw," Willowflame meowed, "Let's go hunt loners." At least now she could make sure that if Cloverpaw found him, he got away alive. Even if Willowflame couldn't tell him he was a father, he would get away safely. Having herself up, she waited for the hard-working apprentice to follow.

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Cloverpaw of Leafclan

With one more suspicious glance through narrowed eyes, Cloudpaw nodded curtly. "Alright." She said, pausing as her gaze swept across the camp, landing on her half eaten squirrel. Her hunger was even more severe now, raging inside her stomach and practically beginning for more. In a swift manner, she ducked down and took a tiny bite, then pushed it away, trying to savor the tiny bits she had scavenged. "Let's go." Her voice was cold and smooth like stone, clearly not open for conversation as she trotted out of the camp. She was enjoying the peace and quiet, lifting her head to smile at the forest, which greenleaf now lay upon. She was sniffing contently the rich scents of prey and plants when she detected a new smell on the breeze, a smell both familiar and unfamiliar to her. It had to be the loner.

Excited now, she took off running, not bothering to look back to see if Willowflame was behind her, her paws flying across the forest floor, scattering up leaves and grass in her wake. She skidded to a stop in a small clearing, nearly tripping and falling over on her face. Ears flattened with embarrassment, she quickly got up and turned around, but she wasn't sure if she wanted Willowflame to be there or not. If the she-cat's story was true, they might both be able to attack and bring down the loner. If it wasn't, then this situation was unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Nevertheless, she turned around, hoping to meet Willowflame's pale green gaze.

{{You can decide whether or not we find the loner--your choice.}}

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Willowflame was relieved that the apprentice had not confronted her about what she was holding back. Becase of this she was quite happy to follow the loner who was hopefully her mate's trail through the woods in silence.
She was not relieved when Cloverpaw burst into a run. With her belly swollen and large, it was hard to run, especially gracefully like she normally did. She was too bulky to walk easily, let alone run. Falling farther and farther behind the younger cat, she began to consider adding for a stop- pretending to break an ankle, maybe.
but thankfully for Willowflame, the apprentice soon stopped. There was a cat a good ways in front of them, oblivious to their presence even though their scent was blowing towards him. Probably he had been on clan land for a while and the scent had ceased to be abnormal. In clan land, clan scent was pretty much everywhere.
Willowflame studied the loner. She couldn't see his face, so she wasn't certain, but he looked like her mate. The same patterned white fur- we'll, maybe not quite the same, but definitely close enough to be a close relative, perhaps a brother. From this distance she couldn't be sure if this was the cat.
Then the wind shifted. His scent blew towards them now.
It as the wrong cat. The scent was much to piney and rocky. It was similar to his but too different to be him. This was the wrong cat.
"Alright, Cloverpaw," she sighed, "let's get him."

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Cloverpaw of Leafclan

The white she-cat hesitated, glancing back at Willowflame, studying her with a somewhat puzzled look on her face. She didn't know what, but there was something wrong with this picture. Willowflame had taken on a sort of tired, wary look. She didn't know what to expect of the she-cat's reaction when they finally caught the loner, but it certainly had a bit more passion. Surprise, fear, maybe even a little bit of regret was what she had expected, if Willowflame was lying about her connection with the loner. Excitement, intrigue, and triumph if she wasn't. Nevertheless, her exhaustion from the previous run was now catching up to her already, inhaling and exhaling quite deeply, her voice breathy with short gasps. She was about to take on the tired, wary look as well, but she was determined to appear strong and confident to the loner, to at least intimidate him slightly with her presence. Instead, she drew on her reserves of energy that had been gained from the run and the excitement of catching a loner. Ears perked and eyes brightening, she darted forward, adrenaline now coursing through her veins and filling her with energy, which, she knew was limited and only temporary, but images of her claws sinking into the loner's fur and chasing out the code-breaker prompted her on. Tail flicking for Willowflame to follow, she maneuvered her way towards him, claws softly sliding out onto the floor. She also went noticeably slower, as if to help Willowflame catch up. Had she guessed the she-cat's secret already?

Nah. She had noticed that after the run Willowflame was perspiring a little bit more than usual, and her breaths also came out in short, quick gasps. Closing her eyes, she erased the she-cat's presence from existence, and every other living, moving breathing in the forest that could provide a distraction. Only the loner and her remained in her twisted reality. Examining the forest around them, she began calculating the possible ways of attack and defense. The wind was blowing his scent towards them, and their scent was no longer propelled at him, so an ambush could be at least one of the options. She ran her mind through the various situations and results of each option and opened her eyes widely, her muscles tightening and haunches flexing, her body unconsciously preparing her for battle. They could just talk and negotiate with him, but he was in their territory after all, they had the right to attack. Still, for the first time in a while, Cloverpaw was unsure of herself. She was still suspicious of Willowflame's connection with the loner, and didn't know whether or not she would approve of attacking him openly. She looked to Willowflame for a second, her eyes asking a question her voice couldn't. What do you want to do? 

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Willowflame was very disappointed. It wasn't her beloved mate, but a cat that looked like him. So much like him... but the scent was too different. Now that she had smelt it for a while, she was noticing similarities- but unless her mate had been rolling in fish ever since she had last seen him, this was the wrong cat. She noticed Cloverpaw getting ready to attack. The she cat had good form; her hard work was paying off. Willowflame was worried that if she helped the apprentice attack, she and her giant belly would get in the way. Maybe I can just sit on him- he'd probably be crushed, she thought.
She considered her answer. Her eyes scanned the landscape for anything important. The loner was just out of the trees. Willowflame had an idea, a good idea, and had she not been heavy with kits, she wouldn't have hesitated. but she wasn't sure she was capable of doing what the plan would make her do. She definitely couldn't climb a tree quickly, or silently, and shenanigans she could move easily enough... but it was worth a shot. Using her tail and other parts of her body, she motioned to the apprentice, You go climb a tree. I'll chase him under you, and you jump on him. She hoped the apprentice would comply. Any plan that involved them both climbing, a high speed chase, or agile movements, she'd have problems.
Why did she have to have kits?
Why couldn't her mate be there? Where was he?