I don't like these games.

[Dyzzie]

Tag: Ambrose

The little wildcat-mix kitten mewled pathetically at her sleeping mother, trying to wake her up with a paw, struggling to get the female to even consider to get up, not that the kitten (large for her age, lean, and tall) was managing to get any kind of response. Finally her mother's paw slapped out, pushing her away, and the female tumbled over her sleeping brother (the one who looked more like her with her markings, than the others), before the ashura kit tumbled all the way out of the nest onto the ground with an alarmed cry, looking up with wide, mix matched eyes to see her mother roll back over and fall back asleep, not even checking to see if hte kit was okay. Her ears fell down slightly, "M-momma?" She begged, wanting some kind of attention, any kind of attention - attention she and her siblings never got. "I don't like this game . . . ." She mewed, sitting, ears flat and her tail limply curled over her paws, her head bowing, before giving up. Her mother never answered her, or the other kits anyways.

THe nameless kit slowly stood, her shoulders hunched, and tail dragging as she pawed away. Why didn't her momma like her? Her or her siblings. Sighing, she moved towards the entrance of the nursery, looking out into the bright green. With out another look back at her mother, the kit stepped forward. If her mother wasn't going to give her attention, she'd just have to find someone that would. She slowly crept out, uncertain, gaze hesitant, shy, fearful. A few cats looked to her in surprise, before looking away again after looking at some of the other mothers watching their kits. Ha, like any of them would care either. They had their own kits to love . . . . The nameless kit was used to being overlooked. It's hard to remember an unwanted kitten. A nameless unwanted kitten was even harder to remember.

Would she always be so easy to forget?

[Ambrose]

Petite and calico was the tired deputy, dragging her paws across the melting ice. 
The patrols were depressingly bad. Leafbare had stolen their precious food, newleaf hadn't given it back yet, and Willowbranch was next to starving, having given the precious little to the elders and queens.

Kits. There was an abundance of kits. Queens' bellies overflew with precious kits, a service to the Clan, but most of all, the members. She headed for the Nursery.

Willowbranch stood at the entrance, the rare  post-winter light proud of its ability to show - pouring into the Nursery. Her face was indiscernable until she padded into the darker Nursery. The last time she had been in here was a while ago, when she met Duskpaw. Oh, Duskpaw. she thought, giggling to herself. What a charmer. Her blue eyes drifted to a halt upon a sleeping queen.
A very new looking kit pawed at her with such innocence, looking for her mother's attention. Bless her. All of a sudden, her mother's paw lashed out to displace the kit from its hopeless stance. Her eyes widened in alarm as the lass cried out. Willowbranch rushed over to give the kit a lick on the cheek. "There, there," she whispered gently, her soft expression turning to one of a demon. [Trying not to powerplay, she probably should prod her but it's whatever you want ]

She reached out to prod the horrid mother.
"Excuse me. I believe your daughter is looking for you."

[Dyzzie]

The little kit looked up in surprise, flinching from such unusual contact. Only her siblings ever licked her. However, when the female went to her mother, the nameless kit quickly shook her head, trying to ward the female off. And. . . too late. The female had prodded her mother. Silverfrost sat up slowly, turning to frown at the deputy, "You're excused." She muttered under her breath before her gaze shot to the nameless kit next to the deputy, "Frankly, I don't want it. If it wants attention, it can go somewhere else. I'll feed it if I have to, but there's no way I'm playing with it, or anything like that." And with that, the female turned her back from her daughter again.

The kit lowered her gaze, "Momma is sleepy. She'll be in a better mood later. It's okay. I'll go play by myself. Or with one of my siblings." She mewed, used to the behavior from her mother berfore turning to walk away, to go back outside, "Really, it's okay," The nameless kit mewed quietly, long legs carrying her away, to the outside, where it had to be better than in here.

[Ambrose]

How rude. 
"Don't talk to me like that." she mewed, blankly, though not snarling. Willowbranch was appalled by this queen's total lack of admiration of her kits. "You don't want her?" she asked, though whipping her tail against her hind legs. This was not just an it, it was a fully capable... well, semi-capable, to-be warrior. Her heart sank at every single word. Willowbranch was a while away from being a mother; being the deputy was a very busy job, but she loved kits, hers or not. "I'll play with her, then. I'll love her, in place of you, because I know you won't." she snarled, though with a motherly love for her... well, Silverfrost's kit. 


"I'm not sleepy..." she started, going to address the kit. "What's your name, hun? We'll have a right good time playing." she purred. She saw the kit walking away, following her. "What games do you like?"

[Dyzzie]

The female raised a brow at the deputy before merely turning away, flicking her tail, "No, I really don't want it. Or any of them." She added with a huff, half shrug, ignoring the final words of the deputy. She didn't want the annoying little pips, she'd let the deputy take care of that one, maybe then she could sleep.

The little kit glanced up at the large cat when she stated that she wasn't sleeping. The kit did look a tad nervous when asked her name, "I . . . . I don't think we have names. Not like the other kits," She mewed, walking away from her mother, pausing between steps to speak, "Or maybe my name is It or Thing, momma calls me, well all of us, that alot . . . but really I don't think we have names." She mewed softly before pausing again when she was asked about games. The little kit turned, sitting slowly, her long limbs giving her a larger appearance than her young age would suggest (no help or thanks to her large size either). The lean female tilted her head to the side a tad, "I don't know, we don't normally play games." She meowed, speaking about her and her siblings as a unit. "We usually just try to get momma's attention. She likes to play the quiet game though, but it's hard to be absolutely quiet."

[Ambrose]

The queen was appropriately named, thought Willowbranch; it was like silver frost crept up the tough walls of her heart. She flicked her eyes up from the kit to the melting frost. but it seemed, at least to Willowbranch, that her wall of rime was everlasting and unchangeable. There was little Willowbranch could do, except take this kit in as her own, and if necessary, the others. It was her responsibility now, one that had been neglected by this sleepy, rimy-hearted queen.

Willowbranch leaned down to the little one as she spoke, visibly nervous. Pressured, probably, when asked her name by a figure of authority. "I... I don't think we have names. Not like the other kits." With that, Willowbranch's heart broke. This queen didn't even care enough to name her kits. As the kit explained, they were "its" or "things". "I'm not allowed to name you, but I'll call you Little One for now, hun."  It would be a long time before Willowbranch had kits, probably, but she could look after this lass until then. 
No games? She didn't play games? Oh, no. "We usually just try to get Momma's attention. She likes to play the quiet game though, but it's hard to be absolutely quiet." Willowbranch needed to excuse herself. "I-I'm gonna go get some moss, and then we can play a very fun game." she mewed, keeping her voice strong. She ran out of the Nursery to a budding tree near the entrance of the camp, a tear running down her cheek. She stayed strong, as that was the only tear that esceped her pretty blue eyes. She gathered enough moss to play mossball, and ran back to the Nursery, purring at the little kit. "This game is called mossball. You have to try and catch the mossball, it's like a mouse!" Willowbranch demonstrated by batting the ball around the Nursery, running after it, and trying to catch it, but batting it away again.

Things were so simple then.

[Dyzzie]

Silvertris was indeed an icy cat, one whose life revolved around only being a warrior, she truly didn't want anything to do with her kittens . . . She didn't want her kittens. It was no secret that she hadn't wanted kittens of any sort. And so the long-legged, large kit was often left to her own devices . . . Usually wistfully wishing her mother was like any of the other queens. Unfortunately, this negative and lack-there-of attention was only teaching the kit that she wasn't deserving of attention.

It was a hard life, for an unwanted kit. And naturally, being nameless didn't help. When the female stated she couldn't name her, she gently shrugged her tail, used to being nameless, before a brief, fragile, and quickly gone smile touched her features, "but I'm not little!" which was definitely true, the kit, like her mother, and like her father was large. Large and lean, muscles already developing, with those long legs. It was easy to see the wild cat in her, taking after her ashura father, rather than her Bengal mother. The kit would never be considered small. Even now she was the height of a young apprentice.

When the female moved off to go get moss, the nameless kit Sat to wait, unusually still and quiet for a kit of her age, that was what happened when a kit wasn't in a loving environment one supposed. The kit smiled another brief and fragile smile when the female returned with the mossball, demonstrating, and the moment the ball got close the young kit leapt at it, batting and catching it with a quick paw movement, instinct telling her how, hundreds of years worth of wild, big cat instinct. And instantly the kit took to the game, her eyes brightening as she chased after the slippery moss ball.

[Ambrose]

OOC: You should totally, when she's becoming an apprentice, tell Deku in the ceremony code thing that Willowbranch would love to be her mentor *Shadey said so*


IC:
She smiled, shutting her blue pools momentarily, as the little kit objected to her naming. "Then, hun, what'll I call you? What words do you like?" she asked, cocking her head and opening her knowing eyes. She gazed upon the kitten. She was little compared to Willowbranch.. Willowbranch was finally taller than someone! Hah, well, she was taller than most of the apprentices, but this kit looked fierce and tall enough to be an apprentice. "That was a dumb thing of me to say. I'm a silly deputy." She kicked the ground timidly, looking for the kit's forgiveness playfully. A grin spread across her face. She, like most, was the most beautiful when she smiled.

This kit was beautiful in every way, every expression, to Willowbranch.
 

Willowbranch watched the kit pounce. Excellent, even for an apprentice. That's her talent. "You're talented at hunting." she mewed. It felt like there should have been a name at the end of her sentence. "Try and tear it up. I bet you can't!" she challenged, smiling.

[Dyzzie]

Ooc:// gyahhhh yes <3 that'd be so cuteeeee.

IC://

The kitten tilted her head, as the adult asked her what she wanted to be called, and slowly a puzzled look settled on the unnamed kit' s features. "I . . . Don't know, you can call me what ever you like I suppose," She mewed shyly, eyes lowering slowly, before shaking her head, "it's okay! Really. You're not dumb!" the kit purred slightly.

She was far more pleased to be told she was good at something, and nodded her head when she was given the goal, tiny paws with sharp claws trying to catch the ball, and after a few tries, she stopped slashing, instead pouncing and using her teeth to hold the moss in front of her, the ball soon demolished.

[Ambrose]

Oh StarClan, what should she call this kit? What did Willowbranch think of her? Cute... charming... They weren't quite names.
"I know what I'll call you! I'm going to call you Friend, because you're my friend." she mewed, smiling down at the little... large kit. Friend's eyes were lowered. Willowbranch hoped she wasn't stressing out her friend. "It's okay! Really. You're not dumb!" Willowbranch smiled even more. "Aww, thank you, Friend. You're very kind! Thank you very much!" she gushed. What a cutie. 

Willowbranch was delighted that the kit didn't shy away from her challenge. This'll be great. she told herself, eyeing the kit intently. And off she went, trying to catch the ball. Willowbranch kept her eyes fixed on Friend as she slashed. Hm, that's not quite it. She was about to help the kit when she pounced and held the moss in front of her. "That's perfect! Great job, Friend!" she mewed. 
"Let's play a new game. I'm a scary badger, and you have to beat me up and save the Clan." She lumbered along, making badger noises. 

[Dyzzie]

It wasn't a clan name, not like the other kits had, but either way, the nameless kitten couldn't help but to purr faintly. It was the closest she'd come to ever having her name in her short life thus far. She wiggled her tail with a faint show of excitement, before lowering her head shyly when the adult gushed over her, unfamiliar and shy in such praises, quickly shaking her head, hoping the adult before her would stop soon. She didn't like the spotlight, not in any situation.

Of course, the game helped. She smiled faintly, briefly to herself when she finally figured it out, purring at the praise before tilting her head at the suggestion of a new game, and looking up at the deputy, and instantly the kitten seemed to back up a half a step, uncertain, "Beat you up? O-okay?" She mumbled, shaking her head and trying to gather her wits to figure out this new game, her uncertainty making it all the more clear just how unexperienced in the play department the kit was.

Of course, being more big cat than wild domestic cat had it's advantages. Instincts were wired in through her entire body, telling her to get her head in the game, to watch the female. They also reminded her it was all in play, and to sheath her claws to not hurt her new friend. She flicked her tail, holding her ground, and a flicker in her eyes showed her anticipation, her eagerness to prove herself. To be just a bit more than one of those unnamed kittens. And finally she leapt, soundlessly, agile on her long legs, far better with the attack from a distance, then up close, when her long legs didn't fumble her up.

She landed with an almost inaudible giggle on the female's back, playfully nipping at her shoulders, her scruff, "Rawr!" She mewed, more in play, than actual attack, her tail swishing, and her eyes brightening ever so slightly, "Does this mean I won?"