Life has weird ways of working out, you know? A specific memory she'd never forget, a special day. It was always full of red and pink and flowers and odd-smelling gifts of what she assumed was food in boxes! She remembered it well, because that was the day she was taken away from her family as a wee little kitten and went somewhere new in an odd little box.
It was really scary at first, being in a new place and alone. She wanted to hide, and she found comfort in the odd little box and a blanket it had within, soft and warm and carrying the comforting scent of her mother. But.. these people were gentle with her, they'd scratch her head and brush her soft fur sometimes. They'd even let her sleep up on the big blanket with them at night! They used to scare her. But they gave her so much comfort and love and soon enough everything felt like it would be okay. She'd soon grow to love it here, and she'd grow to love them as much as they loved her.
They clipped a strange little thing around her neck that made noise, and they had given her a name. Kiwi.
On one peculiar night, the bell looped onto her pale green collar jingled and chimed as she trotted to the front door. And.. it was.. strange. Oh so very strange. Her people brought something home with them. Something new. It wasn't food in the big white bags she liked to hide in, and it wasn't a big box with a bunch of wood in it. She couldn't get a good look at it yet, but it was cradled gently and it must have been fragile with how Kiwi was softly nudged to the side as they entered their home.
Things had changed almost immediately that night. She wasn't allowed to sleep on the big blanket anymore, and her people weren't sleeping nearly as much as they used to! What confused her the most was what she thought kept them awake. It was a piercing, loud cry that happened a lot every day. Any time it happened they always went into the room they didn't want her to be in..
Kiwi had to know what was going on, why wouldn't they let her see? So, one day, she did. The door was left open a small crack, as her people and this.. odd, angry old person talked to them. She slipped past. There was something wiggling in this odd little.. cage? Huh.. She carefully jumped up onto the window sill, walking alongside it until she got a good view of it. It was a lot like a small person. A very, very small person. It had small hands and looked at her oddly. The curious molly jumped down to get a closer look, was this what they were hiding from her? Her people had a kit?
She moved to lay next to the small 'kit', just.. watching it. It wasn't long afterwards until it grabbed at her paw, squeezing it uncomfortably. Kiwi quickly withdrew her paw, and it's face scrunched up for just a moment until it cried. Her fur bristled in alarm, and all three people came into the room. Her people were quick to pick up their kit, while the new one grabbed her rather roughly. He was loud and aggressive and it made her tuck her tail. Before Kiwi knew it, she was put out on the porch outside.
Her people let her back in that night, but this would repeat a few more times over the moons. She would go in the "baby's" room, as they always called it. The baby would sneeze or cry or she would accidentally knock something over, her people and the angry one would come in, and the angry one would put her outside..
That didn't happen this time.
This time, the angry one was the only one home. When the baby was out and walking on four-legs like her, exploring. It grabbed her tail and yanked and it hurt. Kiwi yowled and let out a hiss, scaring the infant that began to cry. And, of course, the angry one came to yell at her and pick her up. But why? It hurt to have her tail pulled! Why was she being punished for it?
This time, the angry one put her into another odd little box, with a cage door and hard walls and then put her into the car. Where was she going this time? She couldn't see, couldn't tell.. It wasn't too long until he took the box out and opened it and forced her out. Where was she?
Kiwi looked around for a moment, stiff and fur bristled in alarm. The old person stomped his foot down and yelled at her, startling her into bolting off. She didn't know which direction was home, she didn't know where she was. It was loud, frightening, and stressful. Had she done something wrong to deserve this? She didn't know, she just wanted to go home.
Days and nights blended into moons of wandering led to no progress, only the occasional scrap of food given to her by a sympathetic passerby or threatening hisses from other cats. Kiwi trotted away at that and soon dipped into a cardboard box, lying alongside the road that stretched as far as the eye could soo. It wasn't much, but it was something. Sheltering away from the cold, she'd curl up and purr out of stress, trying to soothe herself in a way.
That simple little box would become her home, for now. It kept her (mostly) dry and closed off from the elements. No other cats bothered her either.. But, food was hard to find. She didn't know how to hunt. She didn't have claws like the others did and she didn't quite know why. So, she had to try and find scraps. It wasn't too hard but it wasn't easy by any means; some of those metal bins had food in them.
At one point, another cat had passed. This one wasn't hostile, in fact.. they were quite the opposite. It was another molly, like her, with blue eyes and fur that got darker at her head and tail. She was sympathetic to Kiwi's struggle, and after a small chat Kiwi had discovered they were more similar than they thought. The newcomer was once a kittypet too, but left on her own terms. She told tales of wild cats in the isolated forests and meadows, like families thriving out there. These stories were.. interesting, to her. The comfort of her box though was hard to leave, so she didn't. The colorpoint molly understood, and surprisingly she came back with food!
Each day, that molly would come back with food for Kiwi and more stories to tell. Kiwi one day eventually told her about her stories too as she trusted her more. Occasionally, she would offer Kiwi to come and live with her 'clan', as she called it. It was a promise of safety and food, but leaving behind all she's ever known was, quite literally, petrifying. But, she never pressured Kiwi. She was understanding, kind, and kept feeding Kiwi anyways. It wasn't much, but it was keeping her alive.
Kiwi started longingly in the direction of the town, head on her paws as a sigh left her. She had been on her own for a long while, failing any attempt at hunting and stuck sleeping in the wet, sad pile of boxes. And it was.. tiring. On a cold night, that oh-so-familiar colorpoint molly came again with food. And this time? Well.. Kiwi was ready to go with her. She had been kind, going out of her way to help her. Waiting here wouldn't make anything better. Even if it the familiarity made her feel safe. Even if the idea of leaving made her scared.
Pushing to her paws and standing up, it was with a weak smile that she spoke up.
"You're from Fernclan, right..? Could you, uhm.. Show me what it's like there?" Kiwi asked, timid but hopeful. The molly grinned at her, and it was the silent promise of a new, better life.
