The Shooting Star That Fell [UNFINISHED]

suspicion

The loft was airy and luxuriously cooler than the stuffy barn down below. Falcon felt a pang of jealousy for the cats that had the opportunity to live up here, in this spacious den with smooth floors and pine needle bedding.

Then he thought about it some more and realized the place seemed spacious because there were only four cats who occupied the place—The Leader, Oak, his consort, Raven, and their offspring, Night and Moss.

He hauled himself up the last broken step and found himself blinking in the light of the stars. The loft roof had a broken side to it, letting in the silver sheen of the starlit night sky above. He paused for a moment and lifted his head, marveling at how such tiny things that were so far away could be so bright and beautiful.

His thoughts were interrupted by a steady, low murmur of words coming from behind one of the walls. Falcon flicked his ears, and at once recognized the voices to be of Night and Moss. They seemed to be arguing about something.

They're so loud, Falcon thought, but couldn't help letting out a mrow of laughter at the thought of his best friend and his best friend's sister fighting over something ridiculous again. Last time it was over the mouse Raven brought in. The time before that it was who got to play with the mossball first.

Falcon looked around for any signs of either Oak or Raven, but it seemed as though the grown cats were gone. Odd, Falcon told himself, poking his head into one of the cracks in the walls. Raven was a mother and mothers were not supposed to be out of the barn until their kittens were weaned. Where could she have gone?

In the dim starlight and bright moonlight, Falcon caught sight of shadowy silhouettes dancing in the gloom. He could see Moss and her boldly contrasting gray-and-white pelt flashing as she jumped up and down in frustration. She was always a very animated kitten, and tonight was no exception.

It was more difficult to see Night. The pitch-black tom had simply melted away into the shadows, standing perfectly still with a vacant expression on his handsome face.

"But that's so unfair!" Moss was exclaiming, her tail lashing back and forth. "Father only chose you to be the next leader because he likes you better."

"No, he chose me to be the next leader because he has to," Night explained impatiently. "The Law dictates—"

"I know what the LAW dictates," Moss retorted, sitting back down on her haunches and throwing her brother an annoyed look. "'The firstborn tomcat of the leader's family will be the heir to the leadership'. I think I hear that enough from the other lumps of fur sitting around here."

"Ok, so you see why you can't just yell and scream your way into leadership," Night mewed, a hint of sarcasm creeping into the edge of his voice.

"But it's just so unfair! Why can't mothers be leaders as well? I'm positive our Mother hauls Father's slack around more than he ever cares to—"

"Don't talk about Father like that!" Night growled, the fur on the back of his neck beginning to stand up.

Moss glared up at him defiantly. Falcon could see sparks of tension flying between the two. He cringed. He often wished for a brother or sister he could confide in, but after witnessing Moss and Night's heated relationship he was left wondering if having a sibling would be a beneficial thing at all.

Moss's eyes narrowed for an instant, as they often did when she was truly angry about something. "You know, you've becoming a real piece of scat after finding out that every one of the kittens have been matched with a pair-bond except for you."

"Hey!" Falcon called out, knowing that they were now swimming in dangerous territory and it was probably wise for him to interrupt.

Immediately the two kits stopped their bickering and turned to him, two pairs of the same green eyes searching and adjusting to the dark.