username: Willowfrost10
cat's name: Pumpkinshine
gender: male
age: 25 moons
rank: Warrior
clan:
Pebbleclanwill he find love?:
Such a beautiful, shining pelt, yet with such a cost. Pumpkinshine hated his coat, he hated himself. He was useless to the clan, what good was he for? He brought in prey and fought when necessary, sure, but he could never have what he truly wanted. A family.
And what just added salt to the wound was the fact that some even thought he was a she-cat! Typically it was only outsiders, rogues, either looking for a fight, or simply an accidental slip up. Every now and then, though, kits from his own clan would call him a girl. But no matter whose tongue said those words he still could feel himself filling up with a feeling he couldn't quite name. Perhaps anger, hatred. Maybe sadness. Or even just plain loneliness.
As much as he loved the nursery and all the newborns, he couldn't shake whatever emotion gripped him whenever a kit called him ‘she’. His frequent visits and play time with the queens and their children became rare. Misgendering was why. At least that was the reason he told himself and anyone who asked. In truth he was jealous. Jealous at the fact that they had families, jealous at their happy smiles, their kit’s playful cries.
At night he’d tear out his fur with his teeth.
Mouse brain, a tuft of fur was pulled out,
worthless, a fierce tug uprooted more orange,
idiot. He swept away any evidence by morning, covering the missing parts of his pelt with dirt.
He refused to eat, giving his meals to the kits, the only time he ever went near them. His lovely coat destroyed and his bones showed.
Pumpkin patch, some littles teased, not that they knew any better.
He forced himself to serve his clan above all else, loyalty was the only thing he still possessed. Skirmishes at the border between kitty pets turned into bloody messes, his clan mates having to step in between the poor house cat and himself. Whenever he fought his own hatred overflowed, and the strange cat became himself. Pumpkinshine struck until he himself, not another, bleed it seemed.
And now he waited till the moon shone brightly above, when everyone was asleep. Alone with his thoughts self-loathing struck again, and he'd claw himself, bite himself, curse himself. Why take out his anger on others when he was the true mistake? Every night this continued. No one knew, or no one cared.
He came into the clearing one day, as he always did, nearly collapsing from exhaustion, and placed upon the prey pile his catch for today, picked up a fat mouse and turned to the nursery.
“Pumpkinshine,” Echostar’s called from across the clearing, perhaps she had finally noticed something, or just wished to scold him, “Come with me,”
He looked at her, her eyes filled not with anger, but concern.
He placed the his kill back into the pile, “Of course,”
“You can bring the mouse,” She didn't ask him to, no, her voice was commanding, she was telling him.
Pumpkinshine nodded and picked it up again, and watched as she grabbed a fish and padded to her den, and he followed obediently behind.
Inside she laid down, and motioned with her tail for him to do the same. They began to eat quietly, and after a bit Echostar looked up at him.
“Your clan mates are worried for you,” She let herself nuzzle his patchy, scarred shoulder, “What's happened to you?”
“Nothing,” He mumbled.
“You shouldn't do this to yourself,” She tried to place her paw on his, but he jerked away.
“Don't I have free will?” He spat, glaring at her before realizing who he was talking to and looked down.
“Hurting yourself isn't ‘free will’, it’s hatred’s bind,” She got up and looked at him, where the fur had been plucked off lay huge, deep, scratches.
“I'm useless, what's the point? What's the point of any of this! I've only wanted a family, I only want to serve my clan and help make the next generation. It's a simple wish, what's wrong with me?” He cried out, digging his claws into his other leg.
She swatted at him, lightly enough not to do anymore harm, but hard enough to stop him, “That isn't going to help, and what do you mean? Of course you can have a family,”
Pumpkinshine looked down in shame, “A while ago I tried, I was in love. She was a rogue passing through. The most beautiful cat I've ever seen. We wanted to start a family, but it never work. She left me,” He looked at the entrance of the den, hoping to be dismissed.
“Oh,” Something changed in Echostar’s eyes, and to Pumpkinshine it seemed pity, “I see,”
“What's wrong with me? Why did Starclan let this happen?” He asked once more, “I told you I'm useless,”
“Nothing’s wrong with you, just-,” She began but faltered.
“Just what? Admit it, I'm a mistake, I've always been,” He began to walk away.
“Pumpkinshine,” She called him back, “Promise you won't do this again,” He didn't respond. He didn't even look back. He just ran.
Into the woods, away from the clan. He ran until his paws bled and the stars shone above. He dug himself a hole, quite literally, and slept in it, covered by dead leaves. Morning came all too soon and he forced himself to get up. Thirst clawed at his throat and hunger gnawed at his stomach, but that was normal for him. Something, though, told him to move, and he had already began to regret yesterday's outburst.
He walked down a familiar path to the river that surrounded the camp and drank his fill. He stared at his reflection, his faced untouched by claws, still lovely.
Kits, why does this consume me? Why am I like this? Did Lily love me, or love my pelt? She only wanted that kind of beauty combined with her own, didn't she? Was I that much of an idiot not to see that until now? Perhaps, perhaps I could- What's the word? Adopt? Motherless kits have been known to wander during newleaf, plus there's always cats who don't even want their own...So invested in thought he didn't see another reflection creep up behind him, until it's paw touched his. He looked at the black and white cat, “I'm sorry, I acted like I a child,”
“If you would've told me before-”
“Then what? What would you have done? Nothing, that’s what, absolutely nothing,” He wasn't angry, just confused and upset.
She nuzzled his shoulder, “I could have understood better, I could have helped you,”
“Help me? There's nothing to be done here, a tabby can't change it’s stripes,” Pumpkinshine looked at her eyes, those beautiful amber pools. Beautiful? His own thoughts startled him, but they seemed fitting. She was the first one to care, and it was nice to finally tell someone who would listen. He was a mess, but that didn't seem to bother her. This monster that he made of himself didn’t scare her. She didn’t want him for his coat.
“You know, with all these new kits, we could use a babysitter of sorts,” She let her tail curl around him.
“Do you see me? I look like a walking skeleton, I'd scare them away,”
“That can be fixed, if,” Echostar smiled at him, she’d clearly thought this all out, “You start eating,”
“But my scars-”
“Once your fur grows in you won't even notice them,”
“And how long will that take?”
“Well it depends whether or not you stop your biting,” She paused, trying to find the right word, “Habit,”
“They always mistake me for a she-cat though,”
“And?”
“Well-” He began but realized it was silly, just another excuse.
“If they call you that, I’ll correct them,”
“Fine,” He faked a mock sigh, knowing he’d been beat, “I accept,”
Echostar batted his ear, “With that attitude you won't make any progress,”
He smiled at her touch, perhaps things would get better. Maybe that’s all he needed, someone who cared.
A moon had passed and already his fur had regained it's shine. While his whole pelt had not quite regrown it was definitely looking better. The bald patches had small hairs already growing, giving his coat a less patching, more full appearance. The hardest part had been getting back into eating, but Echostar had helped with that.
It was just like when prey become abundant again, you couldn’t just gorge yourself on food, your stomach wasn’t used to that. Eat a quarter of a mouse, then half of it, then the whole thing. Next thing you know you’re eating whole fish. His bones stuck out less, and he seemed to have more spring in his step.
“Echostar,” He raced up to her as soon as he entered the clearing, “Want to share a mouse?”
She grinned, “Of course,” This had become a common ritual for them. Together the two cats headed over to her den. The lush black and orange tail intertwined with the sleek black and white one, and they chatted happily.
“I've heard of a barn cat who doesn't want her kits,” She mentioned before taking another bite of prey.
“Really?” He lifted his head to meet her eyes.
“Only a moon old, there’s two of them,” She smiled at his obvious excitement. He stood up, ready to race out of the den.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” His eyes danced and gleamed.
Echostar laughed, “Well, you realize I’d have to work something out with her first and that’s if she’d even let us-“ She stopped abruptly, “Sorry,”
“You can say it, if you like,” He looked at her, praying to the ancestors.
“Us. With kits,” She looked at Pumpkinshine, “Would you want that?”
“More than anything,” He laid his paw on hers.
From a young age he had wanted kits of his own. A rogue had come along and had almost granted him his wish. She had wanted him for his potential to help her produce that was all.
He had wanted a family, but he didn’t expect this.
To soon be able to have two kits and a mate to share them with? He had thought this was a curse, Starclan had punished him for a deed he did not know. But instead they had placed his paws down a path of kits more numerous than the fish in the stream.
Funny, that he had grown from a mess, close to death, into a loving father of all that was lost.
Together, he and Echostar could foster kits from all over the forest. Orphans or unwanted they would come to him. Some left to pursue other things, but some stayed. He watched as queens who had once been motherless outcasts, play with their kits.
His only regret was that he hadn’t opened up to Echostar sooner. Perhaps he could have avoided his fits of hatred. Or maybe it was that that lead him to her.
Pumpkinshine tried to clear his mind of ‘what ifs’. He was here now, a loving mate by his side, and kits at his feet.
Thanking Starclan was his new nightly ritual before curling up beside Echostar.