Chapter Text
“You’ll be great warriors, someday,” Stagleap told his young kin airily, one lazy greenleaf day, crouched with narrowed eyes. “It’s in our nature, after all.”
They were just outside of camp, waiting patiently outside of a lizard’s small den that an ungrateful apprentice had turned her nose up at and neglected hunting for being ‘ShadowClan prey’. StarClan sent every piece of fresh kill for good reason, Whiteberry had reminded the young cat coldly, when she later joked about it with her denmates. She was turning down StarClan when she turned down good prey, not ShadowClan. Mortified, she’d offer to go hunting again right away, but Stagleap had shot down his apprentice, deciding to take his kin instead. (“Poor Sorrelpaw,” Tornkit had mewled in Mudkit’s ear sympathetically, but he’d nudged his littermate away, ignoring Thrushkit’s envious look in their direction. At last, it was their turn!)
“Really?” Mudkit perked up eagerly, hunting momentarily forgotten. He liked hearing Stagleap gloat about their legacy, and thought of him as perhaps his favourite older kin - other than his mother, Ryestalk. Barkface was kind, and kept Shrewclaw’s memory alive, but he wasn’t exactly fun.
“Of course. We’re descendents of Windstar and Gorsestar themselves, the first and second leaders of WindClan, after all,” Stagleap raised his chin, proud of his family’s legacy. “There are no other cats that share our wit and speed. Our hospitality, for the visitors. Our natural leadership.”
“Our kin make the best healers, too, because Moth Flight was the first one,” Mudkit added smugly, only feeling a tiny pinch of guilt as he thought of Barkface.
“I thought we were meant to be hunting,” Tornkit complained.
“We are,” Mudkit shot back, frowning. Why couldn’t Tornkit ever feel good about his kin? Even Ryestalk enjoyed the approval that came with being Windstar’s descendent. “It’s not my fault you can’t multitask, flea-face.”
“Wart-nose,” Tornkit muttered in response.
“Dung-head!”
“Weasel-paws!”
“Badger-brea—” Mudkit was cut off by Stagleap’s impressive pounce. He’d never seen something so graceful, or even a leap that ended on tucked-in paws, back at camp, but Ryestalk’s brother landed perfectly, quickly killing the lizard, trying to scurry past, with a single bite.
“Wow,” He breathed, bolting forwards and sniffing at the prey’s strange corpse. He didn’t blame Sorrelpaw for leaving it; if Stagleap hadn't caught the prey, he never would’ve wanted to try so much as a bite. “Look at this, Tornkit! You’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Tornkit padded over, blue eyes as wide as little moons. “It’s so cool! ShadowClan cats get to eat prey like this all the time?” He exclaimed enviously.
“If you lived in ShadowClan, this prey would be as normal to you as a hare,” Stagleap reminded the kits. “Only it wouldn’t taste even half as good.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Tornkit whispered to Mudkit hungrily.
Mudkit leaned away, ignoring his brother. “Let’s thank StarClan for the lizard, like Moth Flight used to!” He eagerly watched Stagleap for a reaction, and felt a thrill within him as the tom nodded his assent.
“You’re right,” Stagleap dipped his head respectfully, though he didn’t so much as glance in the kit’s direction. “Thank you, StarClan, for this new prey that we will eat and value. It did not die in vain.”
“Thank you, StarClan!” Mudkit called out excitedly, Tornkit joining in with a mumble. His littermate found speaking to the stars with cats around humiliating, but in a busy Clan, Mudkit couldn’t see the point of wasting time looking for an empty spot.
A few moments passed as Stagleap checked the fresh kill for sickness or infections. Flailfoot had died last moon from eating rotten prey, and cats couldn’t be too careful.
Tornkit used the opportunity to spew more doubts. “I don’t get why we would be the best healers,” he meowed, glancing around nervously, as if it was against the code to say. “Moth Flight gave all four of her kits to different clans - and they were Micah’s kits, too.” That was true - the kits of two such important healers had to possess remarkable talent. “So we gave our great healer blood away. Wouldn’t we be worse off for it?”
“Moth Flight didn’t train her kits to heal, though, did she?” Stagleap sniffed at the kit. “Our blood gives us a natural talent, sure - but we must nurture it, else it will fall through. We’re the only clan who gives healing the respect it deserves. You should be proud of that.”
“I am proud,” Tornkit protested sheepishly, staring at his paws in shame.
“Well, then you certainly aren’t acting it,” Stagleap remarked disapprovingly, and Mudkit felt defensive as his littermate shrank back.
“Tornkit was just wondering,” Mudkit flattened his ears as he stepped forwards. “He’s allowed to ask about it. Ryestalk says questions make the smartest cats.”
For a moment, Stagleap looked taken aback, but the expression rapidly evolved into annoyance, the warrior’s fur standing on end. After only a few beats, he relaxed, tension gone and eyes sharpening with something alike to keen interest.
“I’ll take her word for it - Ryestalk was the wisest in our litter,” the tom conceded, gentle now as he approached his younger kin. “Perhaps you’re right to ask, Tornkit. Clearly, I couldn’t expect you to learn any other way.” He turned to Mudkit, and butted his cheek against the kit’s in a friendly manner that was a little too rough, and sent the small tom stumbling over his own paws. “And you’re brave to stand up for what you believe, even to a cat much bigger and older than you! Perhaps you’ll be a leader someday, and make our family name even prouder.”
Mudkit puffed out his chest. Leader? He imagined himself on top of highrock, Tornkit sitting right below as deputy, yowling out a warrior name as Ryestalk looked at him with eyes that sparkled proudly. Stagleap and Barkface were there too, and Sorrelpaw, though she wasn’t in trouble now, springing up and down excitedly as she called the name along with him.
“I can start tomorrow,” Mudkit replied very seriously, and Stagleap threw back his head in roaring laughter.