Restocking [shade&eve]

[:c a i:]

Just how the Clan had got through what ought to have been a whole moon's supply of marigold in a matter of days was beyond Shadetooth. During his routine inspection of his supplies he had raised an eyebrow at the depleted stock and grunted at Ivypaw that he was going out to replenish it, vaguely grumpy to have to collect the flower yet again.

He really ought to start making that apprentice of his do this work for him, because what else were apprentices for? Still, he at least knew he could get the job done quickly by himself, since he knew exactly where the best plants were. Almost colliding with a small apprentice on the way out and harumphing in response, he marched out to the river, heading to the familiar spots to collect the needed yellow flower.

Preoccupied with his mental inventory of the current herb supplies, Shadetooth was paying little attention to his surroundings, picking the flowers on auto-pilot as he frowned, trying to decide whether or not to make an extra trip to gather some thyme before it stopped growing with the onset of colder weather. Deciding against it in the end, he made a mental note to send Ivypaw out to get some soon.

Concentrating on his efficient medical-related thoughts, Shadetooth was employing less observation than he might otherwise have...

[spike]

Blacky had been gone for some time now. What, had it been three days now? Her stomach growled and the little kit tried to hide the whimper of hunger. He’d be coming back, right? These things always eventually ended well, stories like these. They were like the ones her mom told her. The little kit got lost, had a great adventure, and found its way home. She’d find Blacky! Her story would end well. The flaming tortoiseshell colored she-cat leapt carefully to another rock, squeaking when her hind paws slipped from under her. This was not her day, was it? The tiny kitten scrambled back up onto the slick rock, panting when she realized how close that was. Her hind legs were soaked, her tiny body trembled, and she stood in the middle of a river on a rock that perhaps was far too wet to be standing on. But her goal was so close! Just one more rock and she’d be on the other side. She had smelled things from across this river. So she assumed, by making little notes in her mind, that Blacky must’ve gone this way!

Eve let out a small sigh as she wiggled her pudgy behind, leaping a final time to the last rock. She landed perfectly, beaming to herself when she managed to not lose her balance for the first time. And the final jump was very shallow and short, making sure she didn’t have to worry about anything that’d cause her to slip off. Eve shook her little body out, glancing towards the reeds that rocketed towards the sky before her. They were so tall, so much like a looming shadow might be. Her tiny heart beat rapidly when orange eyes were wide on the sight. She was scared. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be here alone.

’Blacky… papa!’

[/color] The little kit fought the urge to stop as she wandered forward, into the reeds boldly. He had to be here, he had to be near here! She saw cats over here, she was sure her papa would be around her. Her Blacky. The tortoiseshell ignored the rumbling in her tummy, sure that once she found her father she’d have food again too. It would all work out once she was with him again. The small white toed paws halted when the she-cat found her breathing hitching in her throat, a black tom in her line of sight. It looked like him, it looked like Blacky! What was he doing collecting flowers? Maybe he was going to bring them to her? The youngster felt scared then. If Blacky had been here, why had he left her behind?

Why hadn’t he come back for her?

She knelt to the ground, creeping forward from behind the tom, eying the tail that lingered behind him. Blacky had always loved games! The smile on her face was brilliant when the tiny kit leapt and landed on the tail’s edge. “Got you, papa!” she squealed. However she stopped suddenly, stiffening when she realized the scent was not his. This was not her father.[/blockquote][/justify]

[:c a i:]

Something had grabbed Shadetooth's tail.

Something had let out a shrill attack call and leapt on his tail.

Some stupid creature had attempted to assault him?

Within a heartbeat of feeling the pressure on his tail, Shadetooth's eyes had flicked sharply open and he whirled around, flinging whatever it was off him with some force. He dropped into an aggressive crouch immediately as his eyes darted about, seeking to locate whatever creature had had the gall to attempt to attack him. He might be a medicine cat, but he was not one that got pushed around. How dare anyone attempt to claw his tail on his territory, among his precious herbs. He bared his teeth, ready to fight, his eyes eventually falling upon his assailant, who appeared to be-

...A tiny, orange kit. A tiny, pathetic-looking kit with wet fur and a panicky look in her eye. Expression contorting in mild horror, Shadetooth stared at the creature as if it were from another planet. Why was there a puny little damp kit on RiverClan territory that he did not recognise? Any kits from the Clan were birthed with Shadetooth present, and he knew each one by name, scent, sight and character. But this orange-and-black apparition was completely unfamiliar. There was no way she was one of his.

"What in the name of-!?" came Shadetooth's demanding roar as he retracted his claws and glared at the small creature. "Who are you? What in the blue blazes are you doing on RiverClan land?"

[/color] he all but yelled, eyes flashing. He was quite ready to boot the trespassing creature off the territory without a second thought, because there was every chance that this was another devious attempt to infiltrate RiverClan. Disregarding the fact that the perpetrator was a midget of a kit that barely came up to the middle of his leg, he eyed her suspiciously.

"Who're you working for!?"[/color]

[/blockquote]

[spike]

Horror was all she felt when tiny Eve was thrown from the black tom’s tail. She only managed a squeak before hitting the ground. This tom was strong and he was definitely not her Blacky. Dull amber eyes stared at the terrifying creature when he stood, fangs bared and claws battle ready. She hastily rolled back onto her paws, little body aching from the tumble to the ground she had taken, as Eve hastily backed up only to hit a rock that was behind her. She couldn’t escape the tom that looked ready to tear her limb from limb. Eve could only hear the rapid beating of her tiny heart, as fast as a rabbit’s would be. It thundered in her ears when the tom hollered only that much louder.

She could only respond with a wail of shock as she tried to curl up as tightly as possible against the rock that blocked her escape, face burying in her paws when fear clenched her. This tom was not like her papa, he was far from it. This tom was cold, he was scary. He yelled when Blacky was soft spoken. He was angered when her father would be better with holding his temper. And while fire blazed in his eyes, she could remember clearly that her papa’s were gentle. Not to mention there was no smile on this tom’s face. He was her nightmare.

”I want my papa!”

[/color] she cried loudly, sobs shaking her when the tortoiseshell buried her face deeper into her paws. ”Don’t hurt me, please! Please!”[/color] The kit cried, realizing then how cold she was from being dunked in the river a moment ago. Along with the hollow emptiness in her stomach, a pain she couldn’t make go away, she was feeling very sick from the mixture of cold, hunger, and fear. Blacky could’ve made this all better. He could’ve fixed this, made her feel better. ”I just want my papa…”[/color]

Eve stiffened when her stomach growled again, tail twisting around herself when she tried to grow only smaller. ”A-and don’t eat me! I’m not tasty, I swear I’m not!”[/color] Teary amber eyes looked up at the mystery cat, pleading forgiveness and praying for survival. How could there have been a cat so scary in the world? Was he a monster? Only her young imagination could come up with the millions of ideas of what Shadetooth could be. All of them resulted in a terrifying image in her mind. She feared him and now worried about her own survival.[/blockquote][/justify]

[:c a i:]

"...Oh sweet mother of Riverstar." Shadetooth muttered in appalled realisation as he retracted his claws. His suspicions of the wimpy-looking creature being the agent of some evildoer were rapidly fading now that he could see she was too young to be much use for, well, anything. If she'd been one of his, she would be in the nursery with her mother for a good couple of moons, maybe three more or so judging by her puny size. And now it appeared that the creature was in fact just a hopeless, lost kit rather than an assailant.

Which was almost worse.

No, definitely worse, because an attacker could be dispatched with a quick and easy claw stroke. Traumatised kits were infinitely more tricky to handle. They needed comforting words and soothing sounds, neither of which were things any cat who valued his life would casually attribute to RiverClan's medicine cat. He was a good medicine cat, yes, but once there was no immediate physiological risk to kits' lives, he left the mothering and mollycoddling to the queens.

This was not his territory. He grimaced, eyeing the whimpering, shrinking kit with impatience, not wanting to take responsibility for this. He was tempted to escort the thing off the territory and wash his paws of it for good, but his ever-present sense of morality and reluctant but dominant instinct to help and protect all creatures incapable of protecting themselves stubbornly refused to allow him to follow through with it.

There were times when he really wished he could be as harsh as his outward appearance suggested.

"...Oh come on, don't cry. I'm not going to eat you." he told the kit, his voice now reluctantly softer and devoid of the threat that had been there previously. Typically, the kit was terrified, turning into a wobbly mess of overactive imagination and the fortunately wholly incorrect assumption that he had a taste for young, pint-sized cats. "What's your name? How did you end up here?" he asked as nicely as he could bear, taking a few slow, non-threatening steps towards the kit, his coarse fur now flat and his posture unaggressive. He sighed, deciding the best course of action to be seeing if he could find out how the kit came to be on RiverClan territory so that he could reverse the process and put her back to where she was meant to be. Preferably in some other poor, henpecked tom's paws.

Why oh why hadn't he decided to harvest nettles instead of marigold today?

[spike]

Eve wanted her Blacky back. She wanted her mother, her siblings, her father- she just wanted to be home in the nice little warm box where the twolegs had lined it with soft things and tiny toys for the kits to swat around. She wanted to be back curled against her mother and cuddled tight with her sister where it wasn’t cold or wet. It would’ve actually felt nice. And her belly would’ve been so nice and full from a meal of tiny pellets and sweet liquid the twolegs fed them when mother would not. That seemed like such a nice thing, but only a memory, when she was here cowering like the little kit she was, alone and fearful of everything. Why had Blacky taken her here? Why had he not taken her back with mother? Why? Why!?

The loner kit winced when his voice spoke, fur on end though she was stilled by the odd sense that his words were not thorns but rather attempting to calm her. In her panicked state, she managed to take a swift peek out from under her paws, seeing no claws or teeth to agree with the idea of him not eating her. Eve’s little orange-and-black head lifted slightly, still flinching back when she stepped forward. She must’ve looked pathetic, the way she huddled down from tom. He wasn’t as scary as before. In fact, in the right light, she still saw Blacky in him. When he wasn’t growling in her face her flashing sharp claws or teeth, she could see the gentle father she had been out searching for. But it wasn’t him.

Shadetooth could never be Blacky.

But he was enough for what she needed. Eve found the tears slipping now, bursting out into a full cry as she leapt from her spot, lunging into his leg to hide her cries. Why couldn’t he be Blacky? Why couldn’t he be her father? Why did he have to be this random cat!? She wept into his leg, claws just slightly digging into his fur though hardly enough to hurt him. ”I just want my papa!”

[/color] she wailed, a trembling mass clinging to the black tom’s leg. Maybe it was wrong of her to be doing this, he was still a stranger after all. But Eve found comfort in something hen she had formerly had no comfort at all. She strained her jaw, trying hard to not cry loudly as she had been. She had to have some courage.

”I just wanna go home. I don’t feel good, I want my mama and papa.”[/color] She muttered these quietly, burying her muzzle in his warm fur. It felt good. But wrong. His scent, it was all wrong. He wasn’t the Blacky she wanted. He wasn’t the cat she pleaded for. Yet maybe he was what she needed. Even if only for a moment.[/blockquote][/justify]