MUSHROOM ✶
thunderclan - kit - male - 4 moons - tags
thunderclan - kit - male - 4 moons - tags
― it had been forever since he had smelled this scent. but he still knew what it was; it was a clan scent. his parents had warned him and his sister of the clans before they just up and left them to fend for themselves. so mushroom and his sister did their best to stray as far from the clans as they could; and they got a decent ways away, but his sister didn't last too long. he stayed on his own for a bit, the kid earning scars and a chipped ear along the way, but now he was back here, at the clans. he wasn't sure which clan he was in, but he was standing in one of their territory's. the scent was strong. they would surely notice his scent, standing out soon and come find him.
he just stood, sniffing. he was tired, and he was sick. he was always sick; he always had a cough or a sniffle of some kind. there was a word for it; but he forgot it. weakened immune system, perhaps. he flicked an ear.
he didn't know why his parents had abandoned him, why they had sent them on their way. why would you have kids if you didn't want to be around them? his parents knew they were sending their kids to their deaths by sending them away, but they still did anyways. he could still remember watching his sister get weaker and weaker, until one day, she didn't wake. he stayed by her body as long as he could, but eventually the stench forced him to leave as she decayed.
he was kind of excited to see what this clan had to offer. something, anything, had to be better than just running for his life out here, eating roadkill and bugs and butterflies. he looked like everything he had been living by; his long hickory fur was ragged and not very well kept, he didn't smell very great, and he was pretty torn up. he was scrawny; despite his long fur, you could still see he was skin and bone. he wondered what he would say when these cats came up to him. maybe he should just keep walking.
and he did. he began to pick up a small trot, the tom following the scent, going towards where it seemed to get heavier and heavier. but he stopped dead when he heard rustling, and he knew it wasn't a mouse. his ears perked, and his chest grew with excitement. "whose there?"
he just stood, sniffing. he was tired, and he was sick. he was always sick; he always had a cough or a sniffle of some kind. there was a word for it; but he forgot it. weakened immune system, perhaps. he flicked an ear.
he didn't know why his parents had abandoned him, why they had sent them on their way. why would you have kids if you didn't want to be around them? his parents knew they were sending their kids to their deaths by sending them away, but they still did anyways. he could still remember watching his sister get weaker and weaker, until one day, she didn't wake. he stayed by her body as long as he could, but eventually the stench forced him to leave as she decayed.
he was kind of excited to see what this clan had to offer. something, anything, had to be better than just running for his life out here, eating roadkill and bugs and butterflies. he looked like everything he had been living by; his long hickory fur was ragged and not very well kept, he didn't smell very great, and he was pretty torn up. he was scrawny; despite his long fur, you could still see he was skin and bone. he wondered what he would say when these cats came up to him. maybe he should just keep walking.
and he did. he began to pick up a small trot, the tom following the scent, going towards where it seemed to get heavier and heavier. but he stopped dead when he heard rustling, and he knew it wasn't a mouse. his ears perked, and his chest grew with excitement. "whose there?"