saffronfleck

Gingerslip and Barleyfoot, two senior warrior moor runners, decided to have kits together. TBD....

Saffronkit and Blushkit entered the world on a frigid leafbare evening. Even in the first weeks in their life it was clear that Saffronkit was everything Blushkit was not: nimble where they were clumsy, sensitive where they were oblivious. But nonetheless the twins were inseparable, closer than a butterfly's wings.

Gingerslip and Barleyfoot only saw what was on the surface: Blushkit the unlucky stumbler; Saffronkit the saving grace, the steadying breeze; each completed by the other. The new parents needed to believe their young kits could take care of themselves: tensions with RiverClan were rising fast, and WindClan needed its finest warriors to put their whiskers together and strategize. Gingerslip only really occupied the nursery to feed her kits or to sleep; most of the time she was huddled by the warriors' den with Barleyfoot and others, mewing hushedly.

Saffronkit and Blushkit were both mischevious. But Saffronkit's micheviousness had intention behind it... and Gingerslip's negligence — which he was just young enough not to register — gave him plenty of opportunity to indulge himself. He would frequently parade his sibling around camp, nudging their tail out from under their legs as they walked, and squeak eager greetings to any cat they encountered. So it wasn't long before the two met Gracklefur, a newly-made elder and former tunneler who had maintained a soft spot for kits for seasons upon seasons after losing her own to greencough at an early age. The old black she-cat was just as concerned about WindClan's relations with RiverClan as any warrior... but she had been watching as Gingerslip and Barleyfoot navigated parenthood, and she quietly disapproved of how absent their kits seemed to be from their minds.

Knowing well how critical it is for young kits to be nurtured emotionally as well as physically, Gracklefur warmly welcomed Saffronkit and Blushkit to visit her in the elders' den any time. Blushkit seemed skeptical and hesitant; they preferred independent playtime over surprise visits to dens that were not their own. Saffronkit, on the other hand, practically melted into the elder's offer. He began visiting once every couple of days, then once every day, then multiple times a day. Soon enough the elders' den was where he spent nearly all of his waking hours... and even some of his sleeping ones, curled up peacefully against her warm fur.

Every time he came, Gracklefur would tell Saffronkit a story: about her own life (even the sad parts), about the origins of WindClan customs and traditions, about the advent of the four Clans themselves. And she would help Saffronkit envision the warrior he would be: a guardian of this precious history; a cultivator of community; a light to his loved ones, as brilliant and bright as the sun. She was delighted by and proud of the bond that was blooming between her and Saffronkit, but it was bittersweet: he was the son she never got to raise, and she was the mother he would never get to have.

That truth became even clearer when, as Saffronkit and Blushkit neared three moons of age, WindClan's tensions with RiverClan came to a terrible head: a war over the Twoleg Bridge territory had begun. Gingerslip was at the point where she no longer needed to nurse her kits, and she was antsy about getting out on the battlefield to support her Clan. The headstrong she-cat bent Waxstar's tail into allowing her to re-assume her warrior responsibilities... and soon she was gone almost always. Saffronkit clung even closer to Gracklefur, and their friendship strengthened. It was terrifying for him to see WindClan cats returning to camp broken and bleeding... but she never failed to comfort him with a deep conversation and a warm tail tucking him to her side.

As newleaf burst into greenleaf, the war raged on. One early morning when Saffronkit was five moons old, caterwauls shook him from his sleep. A RiverClan warrior had slashed Gingerslip right across her face; if their claws had struck her just a little to the left, she might have lost her eye! The she-cat was furious at what had happened to her. Her disdain for RiverClan grew, and with it came even more distance from her kits. Saffronkit himself was alright with it — he didn't need Gingerslip if he had Gracklefur — but he saw the impact that his mother's tunnel vision had on Blushkit, who seemed increasingly determined to prove themself to everyone and shake off the clumsiness that cursed their paws. It was painful for Saffronkit to see his sibling struggling at something that seemed so fruitless. He tried to invite them to join him on rounds around WindClan camp, or storysharing sessions with Gracklefur... but while Blushkit welcomed his company, their resolve was unshakeable. What more could Saffronkit do but keep his paws on his path and leave the strain in his family to the stars?

TBD....

TBD....