Username: nindroidzane
Cat Name: Frecklekit
Gender: male
Rank: kit
Clan: FrostClanAge: 5 moons
Cat no# and Prompt: Cat #1677
For such a young cat, with such a short life, Freckle has known plenty of fear. There are the little things, of course; bumps in the night, strange noises carried on the wind - things every kit is afraid of at one point or another. Maybe his reaction was always a little exaggerated, but his mother assumed he was just the anxious type. That in itself was to be expected, when you're born and raised on the streets. When your mother, a pampered housecat from birth, suddenly has to raise four kits on her own, thrown out of the house for reasons she didn't understand. Then figuring out where she went wrong with the oldest. Then the one with the crooked tail. The one with the pretty eyes. Raising four kits turned to three, two, one, until it was just Freckle and his mother, sleeping in alleys and parks, stealing trash from garbage cans. It was normal for him to be afraid, wasn't it? He was a street cat. A runt of a stray, at that. And how could the runt expect to survive this harsh environment, when his bigger, healthier siblings had failed to do so? No, his mother hadn't been concerned. But perhaps she should have been.
---
The wind whipped Freckle as the beast roared past, and he shuddered, hunkering down out of sight. His heart raced in his chest, but that was normal - he couldn't recall the last time he'd felt at rest. He watched as the horrid creature zoomed into the distance, so fast he felt himself reeling just watching it. He had never liked monsters. When he was younger, though, it was different. They weren't scary for any specific reason - other than the laundry list he'd come up with in his head, of course. They were scary just because they were scary - big, hulking things, that were loud and fast, and that sprayed him with dirt and gravel as they passed, as if they didn't even see him standing there. They probably didn't - he'd been even tinier than he was now. Certainly smaller than his siblings had been. And the monsters hadn't seen them, had they?
Freckle shook his pelt out. Now wasn't the time for bitter reminiscing on creatures that didn't even know he existed. Digging his small claws into the cracks in the ground, he sturdied his still trembling shoulders, bracing himself for the mad dash that was crossing the roads. His mother had taught him to run, run as fast as he could without looking until he was on the other side. If he looked, he might freeze. And even if he wasn't fast enough... well, at least he wouldn't see it coming.
Legs shaking furiously, Freckle glanced quickly side to side, making sure no more of them were coming. He felt like he'd been standing there for ages already, waiting agonizingly for a break in the traffic - dirt and grit clung to his pelt, and he was dimly aware of one of his claws splitting - snapping off? - and the warmth that seeped into the fur on his paw. But he didn't have time to worry about that. He didn't have time to think. If he started thinking now, he would never stop thinking, and he would never get going, and
get it together, Freckle, your mother needs you!Before he could process what he was doing, Freckle was already blindly flying across the road, terror gripping his heart and moving him along faster. His claws scraped painfully as he leapt over the curb, tiny legs scrambling to stabilize himself. Unfortunately, he was still a clumsy kit, and he couldn't stop himself from launching nose first into the pole he'd run directly into. Freckle groaned, rubbing his nose with a paw and shaking the dizziness from his head. Until he realized what he'd done, which just returned the dizziness tenfold and made him sick to his stomach. He doubled over onto the pavement, heart racing, and tried to get a grip - but
what had that been?! Was he
insane? Cars raced past, and he was barely aware of them flinging more grit and dirt into his pelt, unaware he was there, unaware he had almost been crushed under their huge, burning paws. What would his mother have done, then? He was the only one left. She would've been all alone.
Freckle shuddered. The thought scared him terribly. But he couldn't dwell on fears, he had to
go. She needed him for more than just company right now. He'd been sent out on his own for a reason, he tried to tell himself, rising shakily again to his scraped up little legs. That mouse - that stupid, scrawny little mouse. It had made her sick. And... and she was going to be
fine, he just, just had to go and find her old home. Her old housefolk. They would help her, she'd promised, if he could just find them, and lead them back to her, they would take her to the place cats go when they're sick, and she would be better in no time. Maybe they would even take them both in - if they were really, really lucky. She must have been really sick, because Freckle wasn't sure he was supposed to hear the part about how one kit would appeal to them more than four - but that didn't matter right now,
it doesn't matter Freckle!He shook himself out, stubbornly trying to calm his speeding heart. All that mattered right now was finding her housefolk. Which meant he had to find the house, first. His mother had shown him more than once - she'd shown them all, at one time, he thought. But he didn't exactly know how to get there on his own, and this was pretty well his first time so far away from his mother, so deep into the city. He was horribly afraid he'd get lost. Terribly afraid he'd never find those housefolk. Really, really scared they wouldn't follow him, wouldn't take his mother to the healing place, wouldn't take them both in, they were both doomed, weren't they-!
Freckle! He growled softly, shaking his pelt out so roughly he almost through himself back into the street. And that really didn't help to quell his anxiety, so his heart began to race, and his claws sunk back into the scratches in the pavement, and he had to stand there for a good five minutes, gripping to the sidewalk, heart ramming in his ears, breath coming in sharp ragged gasps.
But he was used to that. This was by no means the first time this had happened - he was thrown into a similar spiral the first time he'd seen a bat, for example. But somehow... this felt different. The lingering dread that weighed down his little paws when he finally got moving, lingering around his steps like a whispering fog. Something really, really bad could happen this time. This was no random fear - and if he failed, there would be no more mother to comfort him.
Still, he tried to push his fears to the back of his head. Ignore him. Those feelings could be dealt with later - much later, when his mother was close by, and he could think without choking himself up for several minutes at a time. So on he trekked, wrestling with his thoughts, jumping at every Twoleg he saw strolling by, every bird fluttering into the air. He tried his hardest - he was trying so, so hard - not to freak out, not to panic each time something startled him. But each time his heart rate spiked, he couldn't help remember what was at stake, or perhaps even worse, what had happened in the
past when he'd seen a monster, or a big pond, or a stupid, blue feathered bird. And he still couldn't be sure he was going the right way. Sure, that lamp post looked familiar, but didn't they all look just the same? And hadn't he just seen that trashcan? Or were all trashcans the same as well? He just didn't know anymore.
Head spinning - how long had he been walking? - Freckle finally decided he should let himself take a rest. He only had little kitten legs, after all - and every step he took used up three times more of his energy than it should have, since he was stressing himself into a tizzy. It turned out he wasn't very good at controlling his fears, or his thoughts, for that matter. Not that it should have been a surprise. When had
he ever been good at controlling himself, or like, relaxing in the slightest?
That had always been Crow's specialty. She had done it for all of them, really. But Freckle was usually the only one who needed rationalization, or comforting, or just pointing out that a puddle probably isn't going to hurt any of them. He missed her. He missed them all, of course! But Crow...
---
"It's going to be fine, Freckle!" Crow giggled, dancing precariously along the edge of the strange, square pond their mother had taken them to. It was a hot day, and it had been pretty busy when they'd arrived. But eventually night had fallen, and all of the Twolegs had gone home, leaving the five of them to a nice, cool shelter, with a big pond of water to... just look at, really. They'd been meaning to drink from it, but it had turned out to taste very funny. And so they'd left it alone, opting instead to lounge around on the cool, hard ground. His mother, and most of his siblings, had gone to sleep ages ago, underneath a strange little platform that shielded them from the sky. But he'd been too nervous to sleep - they'd never been here before, after all, it could be dangerous - and Crow had been too antsy to settle down. She thought it was exciting - they'd never seen a real pond up close before, and she couldn't get enough of it. Freckle didn't understand why. It didn't seem very safe to him - what if someone fell in? It's not like they could drink out of it, anyway. He didn't know why she was bothering to go near it at all. It was
really stressing him out. "You're going to fall!" His voice came out as a squeak, but that was nothing unusual. Apparently not unusual enough for her to keep away from the edge, anyway.
"Aw, come on!" She teased, leaning
very close to the edge, chin nearly touching the funny tasting water. "It's just a bit of water! It's like the puddles, Freckle, it's totally fi-" Crow was cut off by a splash so loud Freckle sent himself tumbling backwards with shock.
"Crow! He shrieked, loud enough to wake his family, if the splash hadn't already done that. What happened next was a bit of a blur, but he did remember more splashing, so much splashing, and his fur was wet, and his mother's fur was wet, and the ground was littered in awful little puddles, and they still smelled so strange, and there was a little black heap of fur...
Freckle shot up, breath hitching. He must have... he'd fallen asleep. He'd just fallen asleep. Forcibly pushing himself to his feet, and blinking rapidly, he tried to shake that image out of his head. That had been a long time ago... at least, a long time ago in comparison to how long he'd been alive. He barely remembered Crow, really. There were the moments he did remember, the nice memories, the big sister he could've had... but that night... he wished he could forget that night. Puddles... needless to say, he had never gotten over puddles. Just another thing to be afraid of, he supposed.
Sighing, which was at least better than gasping wildly, Freckle gave himself one more good shake before setting off, picking a random direction that looked vaguely familiar. Hopefully that wasn't just because it was the way he'd come. But there wasn't much time to fret about that, and any random guess probably had the same chance to get him where he was going. So he set back off, paw pads sorer than he thought they'd ever been, and hoped for the best.
The sun beat down harshly on his kitten fur, nearly turned grey from dirt and dust. It did nothing to help him chase the memories of the day at the pond away, but he had to keep moving. For his mother.
For mother, for mother, for mother. He repeated this mantra in his head for at least three blocks - it helped keep his other thoughts out, at least - until he froze in his tracks. That house - that was the house! He'd done it, he'd really found his mother's old house! Well, stumbled across it, really, but how he got here wasn't really the important bit. It didn't matter, as long as he was here! But now came the next step.
How was he getting inside?
Stumped for a moment, he sat on the gravelly ground by the house's side, nearly squishing his own tail in the process. His earlier fears, of rejection, of failing his mother, resurfaced, and he had to squash them down so he could think. The Twolegs hadn't wanted his mother before - how could he change their minds now? How was he supposed to even make them follow him? The monsters prowling the streets never even noticed he was there. And while Twolegs weren't exactly the same size as those huge things, they were still pretty big in comparison to him - the tiny runt kit. But he didn't really have many options here. He would just have to... try
really, really hard to be noticeable. And worth following.
If I can even find my way back. The thought made his heart lurch - he had no idea where he was, he was so lost - and he had to flatten his ears, and squeeze his eyes closed, and furiously lash his tail and
block those thoughts out go away go away!!! to keep himself from losing his mind.
Eventually, when his heart was calmed - still too fast, but he could function at this level - he sucked in a deep breath. There was only one way he could do this, really. And if it didn't work... improvise? Unfortunately, acting was another thing he was afraid of, but there was no time to worry about that now. If he did start worrying about it, he would probably never stop, and
then where would he be? Outside of this house, thinking, for the rest of his life.
Shaking his fur out - if he had to do that many more times, he was worried it might fly right out of his pelt - Freckle rose to his paws, marching right up to the Twolegs door. And he stood there for a moment. Two moments. Three moments, claws nervously etching their way through the fancy little fabric pelt sitting in front of the house. He just had to... yowl, maybe? Screech out at the top of his lungs, beg them to follow some little kitten through the city, just to find the cat they'd discarded moons ago? It sounded stupid when he thought it out like that - then again, most things he thought of did - but before he could protest himself, he was screeching and yowling louder than he wished he could say he ever had before. But when you're afraid of most everything, you tend to do a lot of screeching. Perhaps that practice had even helped his chances, because he was sure he'd only been shrieking for a couple of seconds before the door flew open, nearly hurtling him off of his tiny paws.
The Twoleg - oh gosh, they were even bigger up close,
this is terrifying - looked down at him... annoyance...? written across its face.
Oh dear. Without considering it, because if he considered it he'd already be halfway down the street with his tail between his legs, his paws were up on their leg, and he was mewing in his littlest, pitiful-est runt voice, "Please, help me, I need help, please!"
Of course, he knew the Twoleg wouldn't understand him. And he knew if it tried to say anything, he wouldn't understand that, either. But what else could he
do?
He continued on with that for what felt like ten billion seasons, the Twoleg looking down at him without that annoyance. Well, hopefully without it, it was a bit hard to read their faces, and that face was awfully far away from him, anyways, all the way up there in the air. Twolegs were far too tall, really.
What am I doing? But, eventually, the Twoleg barked out a sharp noise, and he nearly tumbled straight into their house. Another Twoleg approached, looking down at him curiously. Or at least, what looked curious on their weird, hairless, way up there faces. The second one crouched down to look at him, and he looked back with his biggest, widest eyes. He'd always been told he had his mother's eyes. Maybe that would help them? Maybe they would understand, just looking at him, that this was about her? Maybe they would remember, and regret what they did, and-
"Hey!"
Freckle squeaked in surprise as he was hoisted into the air, tiny legs flailing and tail swishing rapidly from side to side. What were they doing?! They couldn't keep him! Not without his mother, anyway!
This isn't the plan, this isn't the plan-!But the Twoleg holding him didn't turn to go back inside their house, to trap him inside forever, away from everything and his mother. Instead, they closed the door, and turned to walk outside.
Oh! Maybe they did understand! Maybe they would bring him back to his mother, and bring them both back here, and fix her, and-!
They didn't know where his mother was. A shiver ran up his spine, although he wasn't sure if that was from the fear spinning around in his head, or from the way this Twoleg was holding him with its big, strange paws. And he was so busy fretting over that, that he didn't notice where exactly this huge Twoleg was taking him - directly into his huge monster.
Freckle's heart seemed to leap out of his throat. He
could not go near that thing - not near it, not in it
not anywhere near it, please! Blind with terror, as he seemed to be much more these days, he began to shriek once again, but this time it was somehow even more desperate. Without even realizing it, he began scratching and biting at the Twoleg - hand, arm, face he wasn't even sure. He already knew, in some fleeting sense of clarity, that this would all be a blur later. Just like that day with Crow. Just like... just like...!
---
Kibble and Thorn were the best of friends. Sometimes, that made Freckle a little jealous - they would want to play with each other and not want to play with him, and often they would even play pranks on him, scaring him on purpose just for the fun of it. That got a little better after Crow was gone - they missed her as much as he did, and they tried to be gentle about frightening him - she was usually the one chewing them out for it, after all. The one calming him down.
Of course, after it got better, it only got worse. Shock faded, grief eventually faded, and the two toms were finally back to their old ways. Tussling, getting into trouble - pulling pranks on Freckle. He hated it, he really did. But no matter how he, and their mother, tried to put a stop to it, they just wouldn't listen. They never listened, in fact, not about anything.
"Don't play with your food, Kibble!" "Stop teasing your brother, Thorn!"
It was like it all flew over their heads. Or, even more likely, it was like the more they were told not to do something, the more it egged them on. It was annoying, and stupid, and inconvenient, even for the two of them a lot of the time. They went out of their ways to be stubborn and annoying, even if it was ultimately a hassle.
Even if it was fatal.
Why would they have listened, if they never had before? Why, really, would "Quit playing in the road, you two!" have been any different from asking them to stop messing up the nest, or stop flinging mouse bones around? Maybe they should have known it was more serious. But they hadn't cared. And neither had that monster - surely it had seen them?
It must have seen them. It was much closer than Freckle had been, and Freckle had seen it all too clearly.
And he
never wanted to get that close to a monster. He had taken enough close calls just today, just on this little mission, he was
not getting inside one now, not right when he was
this close to getting the one thing that would help his mother!
But it seemed he didn't have much choice in the matter. He was just a little kitten, after all - a runt of a kitten at that - and these Twolegs were huge. And these Twolegs didn't care that he'd watched his brothers be hit by a monster, or that his mother was poisoned right now, or that he was deathly afraid of the monster
and losing his mother - they didn't even know. How could they know? They were just big, dumb Twolegs - they didn't know that they'd done this to him, or to his siblings, or to his mother. That this was
entirely their fault, wasn't it? He and his siblings should have been living in that house, not falling into ponds, or wrestling in front of monsters! Maybe he wouldn't have ended up so afraid of everything if he'd grown up safe in those walls! His mother would be warm and safe and happy right now if it weren't for
them!But it didn't matter. They didn't know. And he could do nothing about it as they placed him into the monster, ignoring all of his fur sticking up on end, ignoring how he lashed his tail and waved and claws and bared his pointy little teeth. His heart was racing, as he was all too used to, but for once, his mind was oddly clear. They didn't care. There was nothing he could do. He didn't even know if it was too late for his mother already - how long had he been gone? He hadn't kept track of the days. He wasn't sure he could have if he'd wanted to, between exhaustion, confusion and terror. Had this all been pointless? Maybe it had been. Maybe he was just an idiot.
But the moment of clarity was gone in an instant, as soon as the monster jerked forward, growling so loudly it almost felt as if it had come from Freckle's own chest. He gripped whatever was left of his poor claws into the strange inside pelt of the monster just before it launched forward, nearly sending him flying off the pelt and into the Twolegs in front of him. It kept, growling, growling, growling, the sound all around him and inside him at once, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was the last thing Kibble and Thorn had heard that day on the road. Maybe they hadn't heard anything at all - he kind of preferred to think of it that way.
Wherever these Twolegs were taking him - or wherever the monster was taking
them - it felt like a dizzyingly long time. The growling was hurting his head, and the monster lurching back and forth, while moving so, so fast, was making him feel sicker than he ever had. And up through the clear part of the monster, as though it had taken water and solidified it - maybe as underwater camoflauge? - he could see the world whirling past at sickening speeds. Freckle didn't think
anything should be allowed to move this quickly. And if it was, he would at least prefer to be very far away from it, not directly inside of it. By the time the monster finally stopped moving, and the Twolegs began opening up its hard, shiny pelt, Freckle was sure he was just going to pass out inside of it and be done for.
But he managed to stay awake when the Twolegs came around to pull him out, holding him more gently than they had been before - maybe that had been partially his fault, then - and carrying him out into the open. He wanted to struggle again, wanted to bite and scratch and hiss and lash his little tail - but he just didn't have the energy. He felt so sick, and he was so tired from walking for so long... and fighting them wouldn't do him any good, anyway. It hadn't helped even a little bit before. And so he just laid plainly still as the Twolegs walked quickly - not as quickly as the monster, mind you, but still fast enough to bring back Freckle's dizzy headache - through the giant monster nesting area until they reached another building, bringing him inside.
Freckle wasn't sure which was better. His mother had brought him through many of those resting areas before, telling him that it was where monsters went to nap. She said they got as tired as we did when they were on long journeys, and that it was safe to pass through as long as you were extra careful, and looked out for the signs that one was waking up - signs like growling. Freckle had never liked passing through them, but his mother had never been very afraid of monsters, at least not before the Kibble and Thorn incident. But before that - she was only afraid when they were racing past, and she had to get four, three, one little kit across the roads. Maybe she had gone inside that monster he'd just ridden in - it was very likely that she had, actually. He wished he'd thought of that a few moments ago. It would have been a bit comforting.
But as much as he hated monsters, and their resting places, he thought he might hate being inside of this building even more. It felt strange. The walls were a too bright colour, and the lights reflecting them were too bright on their own - he had to blink over and over just to adjust to them, just to see where these Twolegs were taking him. And when he was done blinking, he still wasn't sure - it didn't look anything like how he'd expected the inside of buildings to look. His mother had described her home as warm and comfortable and loving - and even the tiny glimpse he'd gotten of it earlier today had looked much different than this. This felt more like the area around the pond... sleek like too smooth stones, and very bright. It made his fur prickle - this place was unsettling him enough as it was, without reminding him of places he'd rather forget. Why had he done this? Why had he come to these Twolegs? Why did he ever think he could trust them to help him when they had already betrayed his mother's trust once before?
Now he just felt foolish. Like the biggest idiot in the world, even.
They sat there for a while, Freckle and the Twolegs. Freckle had no idea how long it was. His sense of time was completely scrambled, from the strange light to his sickness, so it may have been anywhere from just a couple of minutes to a couple of hours. But eventually the Twolegs rose, and Freckle was brought into the air with them. They approached another Twoleg, who was sitting beside some kind of barrier. Freckle's heart sped up slightly -
are they talking about me? - and his tail twitched anxiously, but he was honestly too exhausted to even muster up too much fear at this point. And besides, most of his worst fears had already come true today, if they hadn't already come true before that - what did he even have to be afraid of anymore?
Losing your mother. Never seeing her again. A small voice at the back of his head whispered. And it was true, and the voice was absolutely right - that was probably his worst fear in the world. But there was nothing he could do about it right now, and he was so tired. So he just half heartedly gave his head a shake, trying to push the thought to the back of his mind.
To his surprise, the Twolegs - his mother's housefolk, who had kicked her out so long ago - handed him over to the Twoleg sitting behind the barrier. Why was he surprised, if they hadn't wanted his mother, who had lived with him for so long? Why would they want him, some random kitten off the street, if they couldn't possibly know that their old, beloved cat was his mother?
He wasn't sure. He had no reason to be surprised, no reason to even care about those Twolegs, really. They had ruined his life before it had even begun. But still, as they walked out of the building, he couldn't help but let out a mewl of grief. They abandoned him. They did it again, just like they had his mother.
The Twoleg holding him now gave him a quick ruffle over the head, before carrying him out of the room and into a new one. And this new one - he didn't like it at all. It was full of other cats, chatting, meowing, hissing, scratching at bars - why were they in cages?
But before he could even process that question, before he could even think to process it, he was already being placed inside one himself. And as he watched the Twoleg who had put him there - locked him up and closed the door - there was only one thought running through his mind. His worst fear, above all of his many, many,
many other fears had come true.
Freckle was never going to see his mother again.
[5,085 words)
