[kiwipen]

Pending for GraveBlues

[GraveBlues]

Prompt;

A tiny mewl caught his attention; Thunder stopped short, ears pricked. Was that..? There it came again. The tiniest little mewl, a quiet, faint cry for help. He padded towards the sound, and once again found himself stopped dead in his tracks, his good eye widened. Before him on a pile of dead leaves lay the tiniest little kit he'd ever seen- it was so small that the eyes were closed, and he couldn't tell what gender it was. The dark grey fur was still slick and damp, it couldn't be more than a couple hours old at most. It mewed again, and sprawled blindly towards him on tiny toothpick legs, and Thunder felt his heart melt- his own kits were about this age, still tiny and blind and new. He bent down and pressed his nose to the tiny bundle- it was getting cold, being exposed out here on its own. He quickly began to nose it, cleaning it up and picking it up gently by the scruff of its neck to carry it back to the colony. He could scent no trace of the mother or father- in fact there were no scents at all around it, as if it had been dropped there by a ghost. He had hoped to slip into the colony unnoticed, but of course, he was spotted... Actaea, that sneaky lowlife poisonous storkie, who watched all goings on in place of Ammon, swiftly took note of the bundle in Thunder's mouth.
Slinking over, his purple eyes gleaming with bitter malice and curiosity. "What is that?" he hissed, startled as it moved- he had initially thought it was prey, but it was clearly alive and squirming, taking him by surprise.
Thunder set the kit down in order to speak, placing it between his paws protectively. "It's a child, obviously," he grumbled to the poisonous storkie. "I found it, abandoned at the edge of the wood. I couldn't sense the parents around, and there were no other kits either. It's like it was just... teleported here or something. Since Derecho and I have kits this similar age I thought I would put it with ours." He replied sternly, eyeing the shiftly storkie, as if expecting him to make a move to grab the kit from him, standing over it. It was his now, and he would fight to defend it.
Actaea sniffed in disgust, his lip peeling back from his white teeth, appalled by the tiny creature. "How... noble, of you," he sneered in reply. "But I wonder... On who's authority did you decide this?" He asked, his eyes glittering maliciously, clever and calculating, as always...
Thunder bristled. "On my own. I couldn't just leave it there, it would have perished," he growled slightly, his one good eye glowing slightly with his building anger, like a thunderhead about to burst.
Actaea sniffed again, rolling his eyes, "As if that would be such a tragedy. It's likely a mutt, some unwanted castaway-" he was abruptly cut short by Thunder snarling with rage and leaping, pinning him.
"You weaselly, slimy, foul little-!"
"What is the meaning of this?" Interrupted yet another voice, deep and causing a tremor to run down Thunder's spine, and he instantly backed off of the poison storkie, who was gasping dramatically for breath, even though Thunder hadn't hurt him. Ammon. Thunder raised his gaze to see the leader of his colony standing proud in the doorway of the old church he occupied, glaring down at them with his unfathomable dark eyes.
Thunder bowed his head, going back to stand protectively over the tiny kit as it mewed and snuggled into his paws, helpless and lost. "My apologies, Ammon. I found a kit abandoned at the edge of our wood, and brought it here to rear with my own kits. There were no other scents around it, and it would have died had I left it there." He reported respectfully, keeping his eyes lowered and trying not to let the fur on the back of his neck bristle and fluff up in fear under the cold dark gaze of his colony leader. The moment seemed to stretch on for what seemed like forever as the shadow magic storkie considered the sight before him, Thunder's heart pounding in his torn ears.
Finally, Ammon blinked his dark eyes a single time. "Just take it for now, stop its pathetic mewling. Whether it stays or not is another matter... I will think on it, and decide its fate in the morning," the shadow storkatten replied, and turned tail to head back into his sanctuary.
Actaea spluttered on the ground, zipping to his paws and quickly racing after Ammon, "B-but, Ammon," he said, already beginning to whisper his poisonous words into Ammon's ear. Thunder's eye narrowed; he was doubtless already spinning a web of lies to the shadow storkatten, and in his heart... He knew what the decision would be the next morning. He was just relieved he at least had been spared for the night, and thus he picked up the tiny kit once more and carried it down into the den, greeting his mate and gently butting their heads together. Thunder explained the situation in hushed words- he didn't sense the foul storkie nearby, but you never can be too careful...
After discussing for a while, each of them knew what they must do. This place had become too dangerous, too unsafe for their kits. With the threat of dawn looming over their heads, there was little time to plan, but they didn't need much of one. They had been considering leaving this colony to start their own once their kits had been born anyways, and the newest addition to their family just cemented that decision for them. This strange little kit was theirs now, as much theirs as their flesh and blood children, and they would do anything to protect it too. In the stillness of the night, they picked up the tiny bundles and crept from among the tombstones, slinking away, and disappearing into the shadows. Thunder glanced back only once- he swore he felt a gaze on him, the feeling of being watched... Perhaps a flash of movement from the bloodred stained glass windows of the old church... But no cry of alarm stopped them, no ringing of the bells. They slipped away into the night, journeying long and relentless to escape the lingering boundaries of Graveyard Fields.
As the new dawn broke, Thunder and Derecho took refuge in a small cave, near the other side of the mountains, exhausted and spent, but safe. And as they finally had a moment to rest, Thunder gazed down at the tiny kit, now nestled in between his son and daughter, the three of them sleeping snugly, and he leaned down, pressing his nose to each of them in turn gently. "No one shall ever hurt you," he promised them quietly, and then raised his head and gazed to the horizon. He would make sure of that.

Word Count: 1,174/500

[GraveBlues]

Username; GraveBlues
Storkie Name; Mystery
Nicknames;
Coat Description: Black Self with Flecking
Gender: F
Born Magic Type; Poison
Additional Magic #1;
Additional Magic #2;

Traits:

LIM - Unnatural Color

Parents:
Founder | Founder

Children:
-- [url]Partner[/url]
-- [url]Child1[/url]
-- [url]Child2[/url]
-- [url]Child3[/url]