Private Thread Generational

Hah! You think you can outdo me?
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Bloomfire padded heavily into the nursery, sighing and slumping slightly. For the past four moons she had been almost entirely confined to this Starclan forsaken den. She hated it. Having these kits was to put her in Coldstar’s favour. To make him make her one of his senior warriors, but that hadn’t happened. Frustration prickled Bloomfire’s fur but her frustration that her ambition wasn’t being satisfied, was nothing compared to that with her daughter. The red torbie she-cat’s face took on an angry expression and she barely refrained from hissing aloud.

Cricketkit, Bloomfire’s daughter, was possible the worst thorn in her side out of the many she had faced in her life. Not only was the young she-kit unruly and undisciplined, but now she outright made trouble for Bloomfire. That was, in fact, why Bloomfire had actually retreated to the Nursery for once instead of going out to hunt. She had only just got back from a brief outing to enjoy the peace of the early morning, when she noticed Cricketkit rolling around, chasing a feather, absolutely covered in mud. Horrified by the filthiness of her daughter, she had hastily reprimanded her daughter and told her to clean herself up and act more proper. The last thing she needed was for her kit to ruin her reputation and chances at senior warrior.

Unexpectedly, however, Cricketkit hadn’t apologised and begun cleaning herself up. Instead, she had said no. When Bloomfire had grown firm, Cricketkit had something hurtful. The ruddy she-cat took in a shuddering breath, closing her eyes as Cricketkit’s words rattled in her ears once more. A small whimper escaped the she-cat’s throat and she hung her head. How had it gone so wrong? Beetlekit behaved himself perfectly. He was a kit that she could feel proud of, but his sister was so far from it that she almost couldn’t believe it.

Bloomfire blinked open her eyes, sadness overwhelming her once more as she stared at the ground. Then her ear twitched as she thought of her son. Looking up, Bloomfire’s gaze travelled across the den until she spotted the shadowy form of the little tom-kit. Shock and embarrassment swept through her and the red torbie hastily pushed her emotions down and to the side, hoping that he hadn’t noticed any of it. For a moment, Bloomfire stood awkwardly, feeling like she ought to greet her kit, but also realising that that would feel even more out of place. Instead, she took a breath and then padded over, joining him. Of course he was in here, she should have expected it with the earliness of the day. Cricketkit was always out of the den as soon as possible, but her perfect little son didn’t make such effort to be a nuisance.

Roly poly, topsy turvey, bumble paws

❖ ⭒ ❖ ⭒ 𓆣 ⭒ ❖ ⭒ ❖

Beetlekit's sleepy contentment faded when he noticed his mother approaching, withdrawn and almost sullen...but those words didn't exist in his mind yet. He couldn't quite say what. Bloomfire always seemed to carry herself with such certainty but now there was something different in the way she walked. Her head had been lowered and even after she joined him, Beetlekit couldn't help but study her from the dark bulbs of his copper eyes, once kitten blue.

He never seen many cats come to talk with Mama. Not really. Beetlekit had Cricketkit, but who did Bloomfire have? Maybe she was lonely. The thought made his little chest ache... Beetlekit shifted in his nest, hesitating. He knew better than to bother his mother when she was upset. But he also knew what it felt like when something was wrong and nobody said anything.

So with a cautious little shuffle the little black tom climbed to his paws. His movements were a bit wobbly from just waking, but managed to do so without stumbling. He paused beside her front leg, wondering if this would be okay. With a breath he leaned in and brushed his longhaired flank against her foreleg.

Beetlekit stayed there, his stubby tail giving one uncertain flick. "Mama...?" His little voice inquired. He didn't dare ask what was wrong. So instead he simply remained where he was, his wide whiskers twitching with antisipation.

Hah! You think you can outdo me?
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Bloomfire’s heart warmed a little as her son made his way over to her. Quiet as ever, she made note of his efforts to move with grace and precision despite his exhaustion. Yes, Beetlekit was the one thing in her life that she genuinely felt proud of. Regret that he had such a useless father flickered in her mind but she swiftly pushed it away. Coldstar was the clan leader and although he didn’t keep his promises, that still gave Beetlekit a chance at being something grand as long as he didn’t waste that potential like his sister was.

A jolt of surprise ran through Bloomfire at Beetlekit’s soft voice. She looked down at the young tom and wondered whether she should force a smile of encouragement. Instead the russet she-cat sighed. “I’m fine, Beetlekit,” she meowed plainly. There was no love in her voice. No warmth. Bloomfire just couldn’t work out how to be genuinely affectionate with her kits like other queens. It all seemed so simple and easy to them, and she just couldn’t work it out. “Cricketkit just seems set on her desire to misbehave and act like some fish-brained Thunderclanner. Bloomfire shook her head. The words that Cricketkit had spoken still pricked painfully in her heart.

Moving over to her nest, she let the tip of her tail brush against Beetlekit as a rare sign of affection before circling and laying down as elegantly as possible. Gently Bloomfire let the tension ease somewhat from her body but ensure that she remained poised and regal in appearance. Cricketkit and Coldstar might be too dim to realise perfection when they see it, but Beetlekit had intelligence. “You, dear, are the only cat in this clan with any sense,” she meowed quietly. “Your sister thinks I am an awful mother and has decided to treat Hailstrike,” Bloomfire couldn’t help but sneer the name, “as her mother instead. I hope you can understand why that means she will no longer be joining us in this nest at night.” The mid-furred queen levelled her gaze at her son, the look declaring that he would be a fool to speak out against her.

Bloomfire wasn’t completely certain what she intended to gain from her manipulations of her own son. She thought, though, that at the very least, if Coldstar maintained his dislike of her and refused her the recognition that she deserved, then she could maybe nudge and pull things in ways to have Beetlekit one day take that position. It was as clear as daylight that Coldstar was partial to his two kits, and that meant that he would be more amenable to putting them in positions of power and respect. If that happened… A small smile lit Bloomfire’s face, her eyes sparkling as she imagined herself sitting behind a grown Beetlekit, named as leader. She wouldn’t have to have a rank that demanded her to stress herself out, but respect and power would be hers if he remained this sweet little kit. Silently the she-cat resolved herself to the idea of trying to be more motherly to Beetlekit.

Roly poly, topsy turvey, bumble paws

❖ ⭒ ❖ ⭒ 𓆣 ⭒ ❖ ⭒ ❖

Beetlekit was always a good listener... his ears lowered as Bloomfire explained their family's situation. He didn't really understand why Cricketkit wouldn't sleep with them anymore. The idea of his sister being somewhere else at night made something small but heavy knot in his chest. Maybe...just maybe he understood why she didn't want to be near Mama, but did that mean she didn't want to be near him?

But Mama said it was because Cricketkit misbehaved...So it must be true and even though there was half of an exhalation, partial whine partial wording, it died on his tongue. He didn't dare question her. Instead Beetlekit followed Bloomfire back toward the nest. He watched carefully as she curled herself into the moss, studying the graceful way she tucked her paws beneath herself. After a moment of hesitation he climbed in beside her.

His large black paws tucked underneath his chest, black fur puffed awkwardly around him as he curled his body into as neat a shape his kit shaped limbs could allow. If he could copy how she did things he was sure that would make her happier. He even made sure not to lean too heavily against her, leaving a small space between them even though he wanted the warmth... Cricketkit would have filled that space.

The sadness momentarily eased his restraint."...She won't come back?" His voice quivered, the question escaping before he could stop it. Beetlekit immediately lowered his eyes, paws kneading nervously against the moss. He didn't argue...He simply curled a little tighter, trying very hard to look as composed and proper as Mama did.

"...I can be good." He murmured up at her. "As good as two kits."He wanted nothing more than to curl up against her, but maybe if he was good enough she wouldn't be sad anymore. Then he wouldn't be sad...

Maybe then everything could feel normal again. He swallowed hard, lowering his chin onto the backs of his paws. "Otterwhisker came to visit earlier..."