Warrior Cats: Gossamer

Chapter 6

•~*Early Newleaf*~•

The den was dark, and Myrtlekit could not move.

Cracking open her green eyes, she could just barely see the inside of the den. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs, and once again they resolved to sleep.

But, Myrtlekit realized, the den was hot. Suffocating, even. Digging their claws into the moss, Myrtlekit scrambled for purchase that would allow for her freedom. Heavy weight shifted on top of her, and after a moment of struggle she popped free.

Her denmates were snuggled up in a massive pile. And I was in the center? Myrtlekit realized, amusement making her whiskers twitch. How did I not even notice?

The Nursery was full to bursting with the now apprentice-aged cats, and Plumrose had opted to move out the moment the kits turned five moons old. Myrtlekit didn't have to wonder why.

In the four moons since her arrival, Myrtlekit had shot up in height. It was hard to recognize her as the scrawny bundle of bones and fur that Tundrapad had tripped over in the snowy meadow. Now, she had to duck their head low to avoid catching her tall ears on the thick foliage of the Nursery roof.

Getting out of the den posed an even bigger problem. As Myrtlekit grew, crawling out of the burrow became more and more awkward; her lanky body required her to bend uncomfortably, and her massive paws did nothing to help. In fact, her paws were the issue right now. Staring out over the sea of sleeping cats, Myrtlekit sighed.

After a precarious dance of stepping methodically in between her sprawled out denmates, she ducked down and pulled herself out into the clearing.

Peeking through the viridescent willow canopy were twinkling stars, reminiscent of the snowflakes that fell in leafbare. The night was comfortably cool, a quiet breeze rustling the soft clover budding in patches around the FloodClan clearing. Myrtlekit took a few steps forward before sitting down and curling their tail around their white paws.

When the sun rises, I'll be a FloodClan apprentice, Myrtlekit pondered. Them and all of their other denmates were sharing a ceremony. Despite Hazelkit, Sunkit, Poplarkit, and Kitekit being a little older than Plumrose's litter, Sunkit had managed to convince them all to delay their ceremony so that all of them could be denmates for their entire apprenticeship. Myrtlekit was confused at the gesture, her days of sharing a tiny den with six other nearly full-grown cats made her realize that personal space was very pleasant, and very rare, to come by.

Another thought fluttered into their head. I'll finally be able to get to know Irispaw. Her ears and face flushed at the thought. Myrtlekit's crush, which she now accepted was, in fact, a crush, hadn't dwindled at any point. Pansykit was sure to remind them of it. Every one of their denmates knew, and only Hazelkit and Kitekit thought that Irispaw wasn't worth chasing.

In this moment, their mind was quiet, the breeze whispered, and the trinkets hanging from the willow switches clinked together faintly. 

"Myrtlekit," a voice called, low but clear.

The silver tabby turned towards the source of the sound. Resting perched atop the Leader's Ledge, Willowstar beckoned them over with a flick of her tail.

Myrtlekit flattened an ear in confusion before trotting over and looking up to her. Willowstar's pelt glowed blue in the sparse moonlight, and she looked ethereal. "Come up," the molly said, a small smile beneath her tired greenish-blue eyes.