The Eterna

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4 MOONS

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FEMALE (SHE/HER)

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SEXUALITY UNDECIDED

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KIT

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COYOTECLAN

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It was not like thinking of the young one could summon her. No, Oriolekit had no way of knowing she was the center of someone's bitter thoughts. If she did, the kit would have slunk back into the nursery for a pleasant nap; content to stay well away from anyone who meant her trouble. But she didn't know - couldn't know - and so her paws carried her on undeterred.
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Head parallel and whiskers spread despite knowing well enough the path she followed, Oriolekit padded quietly along the tunnels. It was hard to tell from within the caves, the change in light not strong enough for Oriolekit to detect, but by the sounds of camp, she figured the sun had risen. Perhaps not far - she did not wake and sleep on the same schedule as her denmates, who were still resting - but certainly after dawn.
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Late enough for her to venture, but early enough not to be under paw. And quiet, just as she preferred.
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The light invading her vision as she stepped under the tunnel exit confirmed Oriolekit's estimation. Judging by its strongest point, a pinprick in her personal darkness above, but still more ahead than up, they were probably somewhere between not too far past sunrise. It was following this observation that Oriolekit realized she was not alone.
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Whiskers twitching and nose guiding her focus, the kit dipped her head toward the scent of the warrior, just as she had been taught. Oriolekit did not often greet the older cats with words, especially when she had no name to place to the scent. So, content to leave the interaction with a silent respectful greeting, Oriolekit swerved in the opposite direction and began to pad away.

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4 MOONS

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FEMALE (SHE/HER)

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SEXUALITY UNDECIDED

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KIT

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COYOTECLAN

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The voice pricked through Oriolekit’s calm like thorns, leaving a stinging itch in their wake. The words themselves threatened to crawl into those fresh wounds, intent to pierce and burn until she cried out. That was likely the intention.
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For a moment, Oriolekit faltered, breath drawing into a short, quiet gasp and ears canting back toward her scruff. She had done nothing wrong…right? She was certain of that. But Oriolekit had a feeling this warrior was not about to take that for an answer. No, she was definitely intent to burn her. Oriolekit could not let that happen. Instead, the little molly gathered herself, injured tail curling protectively inward as she turned toward the voice.
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Part of her wished she had not. The proximity was overwhelming. Without the sun directly at the warrior’s back, she was barely even a wisp of shadow flickering across Oriolekit’s worldview. But she could feel her. The way the air currents rippled her whiskers in warning as the warrior boxed her in against the cavern’s flank. The way a harsh breath fanned across her nose. A touch of stiffened whiskers against her own vibrissae had her flinching away.
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Whatever barbed retort she might have shot to a fellow kit or apprentice died on her tongue. Appeasement might be a better option here. Oriolekit took a cautious step back, rump brushing rock.
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“I thought you could be sleeping,” the kit offered politely, drawing on every effort not to sound bitter or scared. Oriolekit found she was a little bit of both, among other things, and it was difficult not to let that show. What was this warrior’s problem? It was like she had somehow slighted her by existing. Wouldn’t be the first time.
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That thought was best set aside.
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Wracking her mind, she tried to draw up something she could use. What was it that grouchy elder had said? Something about warriors needing their rest? She could work with that; embellish it some. Drawing a breath, Oriolekit lifted her chin a little, willing her voice to remain polite and innocent.
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‘You didn’t do anything, Oriole,’ she reminded herself.
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“One of the elders said to not wake sleeping warriors,” she explained, shifting tone slightly as she went on to quote him. “He said ‘warriors work hard to protect the clan. You should let them rest unless you need something the apprentices and queens can’t help with.’ ”
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As she fell to silence, Oriolekit could not help the kitish desire for approval. She hoped that answer would please the warrior; that she would go back to resting, maybe with a grumble about rude kits or whatever, and let Oriolekit head off in peace. But it was rare the kit’s hopes were ever met.