Ooooh, shiny! [open]

[Grave]

Grave hated being cooped up. Hated it. With a passion that blazed through his little body. Spiderlily had kept the little kits close to paw currently, wanting them to be just a little bit larger before they were completely let loose on the clan. Of course, it appeared that getting bigger was a different matter entirely for her older son, which she kept a half-lidded yellow eye on from where she was dozing in her den. He was getting taller, leggier, but it seemed as if he were destined to not fill out anymore then his extremely lean and thin frame allowed.

The little tom, on the other paw, did not care about such facts. He was precariously at the very entrance of the den, leaning out and peering around intently with wide, innocent baby blue eyes. While there was currently no cat in sight [although he was hoping he could see their dad and run out to spark a play session with the tom], his gaze finally picked out a swooping black form of a large magpie.

What was that?

He stepped a light step forward, stopping only at the warning growl from Spiderlily, and glanced back at his mother. The cruel executioner was still laying there, but her head was up and both eyes fully open as she watched him, and little Grave swished his tail indecisively before glancing back out of the den wistfully.

There was a sharp cry from the magpie as it finally loosened what it had been after all along, a shiny rock from the earth about the clan’s camp. Grave’s eyes went wide as it caught the sunbeams and shone brightly in the bird’s beak, before forgetting himself completely and charging from the den – ignoring his mother’s shout as he streaked towards the bird.

He’d worry about surviving later. Totally.

The bird let out a startled squawk as the little skinny kit bounced and practically tackled it yelling, “Gerrof, that’s mine!” Flapping a wing and knocking the kitten rolling, it dropped the shiny rock and took to the air, hurling an entire string of curses towards the unafraid, impulsive little tom in the avian language before flying high and vanishing from sight.

Happily, Grave bounced back to the shiny rock, plopping onto his belly and reaching out with his paws to lightly pat the glimmering object, purring like the silly kit he was. His mom hadn’t followed him out, probably finally giving up in keeping him contained, and the day just couldn’t get any better!

…could it?

[Transal]

// Brilliant blue eyes watched her brother as he lay idly near the entrance. It was clear he was tense, positively yearning to bound forth from the nursery, break free from their mother's constant watch, and just wreak havoc among the clan. Okay, so that was Transal's dream; to finally be able to leave without having to sneak out, so she could terrorize the members of Boneclan.

It was almost unblinking as she watched her brother, her tan red fur striking against her mother's tan coat, where she lay with her muzzle between her paws nescled into Spiderlilly's stomach near her foreleg. [The fact remained she appeared to be the single odd-kitten out; her brothers shared their father's dark coat and striking eyes, where Cher was the spitting image of her mother.]

He glanced back, only to receive a growl, and Transal jerked forward. Would he go? Would he go? Oh please let him go!

See, Transal was easily manipulated, and really quite innocent for two such renown parents. It was a sad thing, and she was probably quite the disappointment to the entire clan, even if she sometimes showed a spark of having great talent in the art of fighting; she rarely could think for herself, and was often the second-shadow of an independent cat. In this case, it was Grave, for it was him who showed the most potential to leave.

And her chance had come swiftly. At the sight of something shiny, the young tom bolted, and at the same moment he tensed she had bolted from Spiderlilly's side to race out the den after brother. Though he had longer legs, he stopped to tackle the poor unsuspecting bird, which gave her the advantage to catch up and tackle him to the ground in search of the small shiny object. Where is it? Grave! I want it! She mewed wildly. She had noticed the object roll a few inches to the side, and she bounded off him to skid into it, sending up the dust clouds around her belly. She glanced back over her shoulder, only to realized she had missed it by at least a tail length as it lay innocently between reach of the siblings.

[Vincent]

Vincent opened his eyes, his vision adjusting swiftly to the darkness, Nearby he could make out the large form of his mother and the smaller forms of his two sisters, shapes that were already very familliar to the young tom.

But where was his brother?

Vincent scooted forward and scanned the camp from his little nest beside the entrance. His baby-blue gaze fell upon Grave just as the magpie took off in a dizzying dark blur of movement.
The kit let out a soft cry of suprise and amazement. "Grave?" he mewed softly. His voice died out halfway across camp, making the chances of Grave hearing him unlikely.

With that, Vincent rose to his paws, stretching luxuriously before dashing from the nursery at top speed, looking back over his shoulder to make sure Spiderlilly didn't try to stop him.
Translation: he wasn't looking where he was going.
Result: he crashed right into a rock and fell back, looking stunned.

Without getting up, Vincent tilted his head back so his forehead lay flat against the ground. From here he could see the whole camp, although it was inverted.
He studied his brother and his brother's interesting rock upside-down, his bright blue eyes (mostly, anyway; a fleck of amber rested in the bottom of one eye) taking in every detail. "Wonder why that bird wanted that?" he meowed to Grave and Transal.

[Grave]

And so Spiderlily ended up sans three out of four kits within the den, but the feral tabby found herself not truly caring. As long as the trio, or even quartet if her Chernobyl decided to head out, remained in the camp there wasn’t too much danger for them to get into…now, as for the other clan members, it may be a different story with bouncing fluffballs out and about the camp. Ah well. She, on the other paw, was getting that nap.

The cat who said Spiderlily made a good mother must’ve been drunk as a skunk upon saying that.

Anyway, I digress.

“Oof!” He squawked himself as Transal tackled him to the ground in search of the same shiny rock that he had attacked the magpie for. “No!” The word squeezed out of the skinny little tom as he tussled with his sister for a moment – while he was already taller then her she weighed more, so it was an equal enough play-scuffle. “No no no no no! It’s my shiny, I saw it first!” He hollered at the top of his lungs and kicked out, but Transal had already bounded off of him after the rock.

Thankfully, she missed and he rolled over and pounced, planting his butt directly on top of the shiny rock, flattened his ears half back, and glared at his sister, “My pretty. You go find your own!”

Then, noticing that Vincent had managed to escape the den too and was laying on the ground haphazardly, Grave tilted his head from side to side and tried to turn his head so that he could look at his brother upside down…although that would make Vincent right side up, wouldn’t it? “Hey Vince, why’ya layin’ like that huh? Aintcha gettin’ a headache?” Shaking his head, Grave straightened himself, looked around to see where Transal was at, before flicking his tail in a mused thought. “I dunno. It’s pretty and shiny and cool, mebbie that’s why?”

“Wanna see it Vincent? I like shiny things.” Grave hopped up, swiped the rock up in his mouth quickly in the hopes that Transal wouldn’t get it, before bouncing over to where Vincent was laying and dropping it to the ground between them so that the other kit could see the way it shone in multihued colors when he turned it over with a careful paw. “I’ve never ever seen a shiny like this before!”

[Bringer of Night]

Three little voices caught Bringer of Night’s attention, and she turned as she came into the camp. Oh lord, it was Spiderlily and Pripyat’s kits…Night looked around for their mother and caught her scent coming from the nursery. So…what were they doing out alone? “Grave, Transal, Vincent,” she meowed, trying to figure out what they could be fussing over. The sun glinted off something shiny.

A rock? She stepped closer and crouched down to be at their level. “What are you looking at?” Night asked, playing with them and keeping an eye on them at the same time. She hoped they wouldn’t realize that she was trying to keep them under control – that would probably just annoy them.

Bringer of Night watched as the magpie fluttered farther away, with a purr. Stupid bird, she thought, looking at the feathers that flew. She didn’t quite know if it was an accident that they stumbled upon the shiny rock when they were trying to catch the bird, or whether they meant to scare away the bird to get at the rock. Either way, they couldn’t be up to any good.