Growing

[.:{Crag}:.]

It had been two moons since Jaguarstripe's kits were born, and for once, the queen seemed accustomed to the Nursery. As the other kits grew older they quieted down and minded their mother more, making life in this den a whole lot easier for the deputy. Sighing contently, she watched her own kits stumble around. As far as punishment went for them, Jaguarstripe was extremely consistent. If you stepped out of line you were roughly pushed back in. All the kits learned quickly by either experience or by witnessing that she was the toughest queen in the Nursery. The usual punishment was being battered on the underbelly or flank, then sometimes a swift bite on the ear. Sometimes, if the crime fit, Jaguarstripe would put her kits in one spot and tell them to sit like a ScarClanner. Back rigid and not allowed to move, their mother would let them sit there for as long as she saw fit.

The most often offenders were Thunderkit and Warkit. They both had that fiery personality, and had energy beyond belief. The other three usually stayed in line, very rarely getting into trouble because of fear. Just recently, Thunderkit and Warkit had misbehaved and were currently 'sitting' along the edge of the den. His mother's most recent correction was to stand on your back legs against a wall with your front paws off the ground. Your back was to stay on the wall, and if it moved you'd be in more trouble. Not only did this teach you what was right, it would also help with emotion training. Standing on that wall for a good while is painful. Then again, they always had to have the harsher punishment, because nothing else would get through to them. Today it fit the crime.

Only a few heartbeats ago, Thunderkit was playing with Warkit and they got into the game way too much. Before the toms knew it they were rolling around in Mistcloud's nest, and moss was everywhere. Then, when the two kits realized it, they saw it as 'fun' and began throwing moss back and forth. When Jaguarstripe caught them they claimed Furykit and Strikekit had done it, which only put them deeper into the hole, considering their mother already knew it was them. She had watched for just about half of it.

Now, Jaguarstripe sat in front of her two misbehaved toms, tail waving calmly back and forth. Thunderkit was still being disrespectful; he was literally glaring at her, as if saying "is this the best you can do?" Little did he know this was far from her best. Warkit was doing much better, he was staring at the ground looking truly remorseful and humiliated. Good. At least one had learned.

"Warkit, you may go start picking up the moss. Your brother may join you eventually."

The small brown tom slowly put his two front paws on the ground; if you went too fast it would hurt; and started toward Mistcloud's nest. Warkit glanced over his shoulder, sympathy showing in his Scorchstar-like eyes. Jaguarstripe gave him a look for showing emotion, and he quickly glazed his eyes over. The poor kit thought he was done with her, but he was far from it.

"As for you, Thunderkit, I could do this all day." She meowed calmly, "Either stop the attitude or keep it going, it makes no difference to me."

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Ragekit was officially terrified of Jaguarstripe. Although the tom had grown in maturity over the past two moons, and his emotions were much better hidden, that didn't mean he didn't feel them. Every time Ragekit saw her kits getting beaten he shuddered a little bit inside. She did a lot worse to them then any other kit in the Nursery, and today was no exception. The tomkit watched sympathetically as her kit's muscles shook from effort. Warkit was released first, it was obvious he had learned this part of the lesson. That was another thing with Jaguarstripe: The punishment usually had three parts. One, pain. Two, remorse. Three, apology, pain, and sometimes humiliation. It worked like a charm for everyone but these two kits. Even Ragekit thought it was foolish of them.

[Scorchstar]

Thunderkit stood on the wall, his mother's latest creation to attempt to force him back in line. He wouldn't be so easily deterred however. His brother may have been shaking after only a few moments, but his willpower was too strong to let him show weakness in pain. He didn't care about showing any other kind of emtion, he didn't seem to think it made you like much stronger not show happiness. If he was in a good mood wouldn't it be beneficial for others to know? That and he didn't really care, it made his mother angry and kept life inside the Nursery interesting. That was good enough for him.

His glare momentarily left his mother to look at his brother in slight sympathy and the slightest bit of disappointment. He needed to learn to be strong, especially with his size. How was one supposed to live up to his name if he wasn't strong enough? Especially with a name like Warkit, it just sounded like some beefy cat. His brother would probably get a lot of crap for it in the end. He did love his brother, don't get him wrong. In fact it was because of the two playing that had gotten them in this mess.

Warkit looked as if he had just gone out of Camp, he certainly was sorry. Thunderkit wouldn't say anything, if he had learned his lesson so be it. Thunderkit wouldn't crack so easily. He was an odd kit. He could hide his emotions and often picked and choosed which ones he wanted to hide and which ones he'd let loose. He just loved the thrill of sticking out through another of his mother's punishments. It kept him sane in the numbness of the Nursery.

As he expected Jaguarstripe let the humiliated Warkit go to clean his mess. He had learned her process and he usually dangled over the edge of pain and humility just barely. To him it was an energy rush and he felt as though he was already training to become a ScarClan warrior, who else in the Nursery was getting forced to strengthen their back legs? It helped to feel the need to show he wasn't a weakling to make it so. Thunderkit smiled back to Warkit, as if saying he would be fine and was rather enjoying it. His left leg twitched a bit.

"I can as well, Jaguarstripe. It makes no difference to me as well." A small smirk was given to his mother, pushing boundaries to the extreme was what he did. Though he probably wasn't in the bestClan to do such things, he was going to end up having this all catch up with him. Though it was doubtful in his mind that he'd ever truly learn. He just found this whole process too enjoyable.

Strikekit watched from his mother's nest as his brothers played stupidly in Mistcloud's nest. The queen's kits were old enough to be left on their own without causing trouble so she had left for a short walk with Pantherclaw. His smoldering gaze wasn't far from Thunderkit, his rowdiest sibling as he began to tear up Mistcloud's nest. He watched in the same fashion as Jaguarstripe gave him a quick loving nudge before going over to punish his siblings. He could only watch, though his family was unaware at this point in his life Strikekit was different. He could already tell, most kits were already able to talk. Strikekit couldn't even remember making a single noise no matter how old he was. It frightened him in a way, wondering how everyone would react when they stepped out of denial.

Frostkit watched the happenings of the Nursery curled under a pile of moss. He found it easier to not receive glares from everyone by simply hiding his bright, white pelt. At this point in his life he was ashamed of it and found no use in making it viewable, he had not an ounce of respect from anyone. It was all because of his pelt as well, no not once did they look at the fact that his eyes of silver ice never reflected or even hinted towards emotion. Not even the fact that he was growing to be decent sized, sturdy-looking, yet still small enough to stop from being 'accidently' stepped on. At least he didn't get punished like Thunderkit, though it did hurt that they were quicker and harder in their punishments of him even if he made just a simple blunder. He was forced to be doubley as perfect as everyone else.

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[.:{Crag}:.]

Jaguarstripe didn't even flinch. She was used to this with Thunderkit, and though she didn't quite no how to break him, this deputy would find a way. She had beaten sense into many apprentices and wouldn't hesitate to do it with her own kin. The small she-cat settled down in the moss, and noticed a small twitch in her son's leg. "Ah, as much as you think you are invincible, Thunderkit, you are not." Jaguarstripe meowed, stretching her limbs, "But I guess you'll have to find that out the hard way." Dark brown eyes stared at the tom, seemingly without blinking. She wouldn't crack, he would. That was usually how it worked with this newly found correction. Whether anyone liked it or not, their legs would involuntarily shake from exhaustion. No cat, especially a ScarClanner, liked to show weakness in such a way. The deputy's kits had collapsed several times on this wall; even Wrathkit, the eldest and largest of the litter. He, however, was smart enough not to end up there again. All this was for the queen was a challenge that she knew would eventually be won by her.

Jaguarstripe waited. It surly wouldn't be long now. Thunderkit had been standing for roughly ten minutes, and even for her strong litter this was tough. Every twitch, every movement or blink that her son made she would comment on. "Not so perfect now, are you?" The deputy meowed, "You have less sense than I thought." Dark brown eyes never left him, and were always ready to catch a mistake. Thunderkit's punishment was far from over. At this rate it would probably last all day, where as if he cooperated it would have lasted maybe as long as he had been standing on the wall. This was combining everything she had planned. Jaguarstripe wasn't about to let her kits be disrespectful to her, or anyone else for that matter.

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Warkit glanced over his shoulder while scooping together the rest of the moss. Thunderkit was still standing on the wall, their mother laying calmly in front of him. He shook his head; his brother could be such a fool sometimes. Warkit couldn't remember the last time when he ended up being corrected without his brother by his side. His siblings had advised him to be more cautious when around Thunderkit, but he was so much fun! Every game was fun, every story he told was fun, but it was never fun when they got into trouble. Jaguarstripe didn't have mercy. Ever. All Warkit could do was pray he didn't end up with her as a mentor; she would go harder on kin than any other apprentice she received, and she went hard on every other apprentice in the first place.

Warkit stretched his back out. It was hurting from standing on the wall for the short time he was there, though it was more of an aching feeling now instead of the sharp pain he received while being corrected. Dark brown eyes looked to see Thunderkit once more, quickly this time so his mother wouldn't see. Sympathy and curiosity counted as emotions. Not much else had happened, his mousebrain of a brother was still being stubborn. What a surprise. Warkit padded over, standing next to Jaguarstripe. He was careful to keep his eyes up and not stare at the ground; his mother hated that. "I've finished with the moss, Jaguarstripe." Without looking away from Thunderkit, she nodded.

"You shall apologize to Mistcloud when she returns, and ask her if there is anything she needs to make up for it."

Warkit dipped his head. That basically meant "ask if she wants to punish you too", but it didn't often happen with other queens. They knew how harsh Jaguarstripe was, and usually didn't feel as though they needed any more correction. The tom turned and padded back to their nest, planning to stay under radar for the rest of the day. He plopped down next to Strikekit, flicking his tail in greeting. No surprise, all of his siblings were watching Thunderkit's little show. A large lump of silver tabby fur on the other side of the nest spoke, which made Warkit jump. He had thought his brother was sleeping.

"What a mousebrain." Wrathkit quietly, the eldest and ironically most mature of the litter lifted his head, "Jaguarstripe isn't going to give up, and his legs are going to be soar for a moon." Furykit grunted in agreement, "That's Thunderkit for you." The smallest of the litter stood and stretched as if today was the same as any other boring day in the Nursery. Then again, this did happen often.

Warkit looked over at his only sister and saw a smaller version of Jaguarstripe. He had to blink a few times to get the image out of his head, and it scared him slightly to think how alike they were. Furykit would probably be a reminder of their mother, for everyone, as long as she lived. Luckily the she-cat received more of Scorchstar's eyes, although not their full color.

Warkit turned his gaze to Thunderkit for entertainment.

[Scorchstar]

Thunderkit half-closed his eyes and began to slightly purr, he knew how much the noise annoyed his mother, the last time she had purred was when they were a moon old. After that they were just too old for the love of their mother, or at least in that way. For a brief moment he began to wonder if his mother did love him.. Had he annoyed her enough for the love to just dissipate until it was no more? Had he pushed her to the brink where she struggled to hold on to that last thread of love? Or was she just so tough in her ways that she had never loved him once, he had often been told the story of his naming. He hadn't been sure whether it was regret, disappointment, or in humor of his kittish ways that always hung in the air afterward.

Then his head twitched back up to Jaguarstripe as she commented in the twitch of his left leg, his eyes narrowed. "Neither are you, Jaguarstripe." His challenging brown eyes met her's for a moment. Though this punishment was a tough one Thunderkit was always working his way out of it, one 'cool' way or another. His motives of acting in such a way were indecisive, but nevertheless his leave was just as unScarClan as his entrance. Jagusrstripe always thought about it as a win when he did so though. Even though Thunderkit always went a little longer than he did the previous time and he always made it till he felt that he was showing too much weakness.

His ears would twitch just as Jaguarstripe began to add little comments every time he twitched or blinked from the growing pain in his back legs. Well he knew that he wasn't invincible, he'd love to be though, thus why he was still up on the wall even though the frequent jitters in his legs made him look weak. Lets see any one of his siblings do better than what he was accomplishing. Eventually he knew that he was approaching constant shaking in his legs, and he wasn't going to wait to see what she said to that. So with the remaining strength that he would've used against the wall went to pushing himself back onto all four paws. "I'm done now, Jaguarstripe." Off he went, his tone level and his eyes showing nothing. His tail would be up, his head raised, and he'd walk right passed his mother if she so allowed.

Without his smoldering gaze leaving Thunderkit on the wall Strikekit flicked his tail to Warkit as he came back from telling their mother he was done. It was no surprise that he had ended up finishing his punishment long before Thunderkit did. In fact it was most likely that his punishment would last all day now. He grunted in agreement as his eldest brother called Thunderkit a mousebrain. He agreed with most of the things that followed in the conversation, grunting a few times whenever anyone looked at him for comments. It always had been a family event to talk about their brother and watch his punishment.

Frostkit's ears perked a bit out of the cover of moss as the siblings began to converse about their brother. It wasn't a surprise that the 'best' litter in the den thought such things about their own brother. They were cousins and they talked even worse about him, even ion front of him. It was as though he didn't exist, though he was obviously visible to everyone. Even when he covered himself in moss, he always had that white fur of his sticking out in the cracks. Never would he be hidden, never would he be able to survive in this Clan. he was doomed to be the next Lynxtail, but he wouldn't let that happen.

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[.:{Crag}:.]

A purr. Oh, how Jaguarstripe despised hearing it. But no, the deputy didn't show it in the slightest; her annoyance looked like nothing more than staring down her son for more weakness. "Not one of the cats in this den is admiring you, Thunderkit. In fact they are probably thinking what a mousebrain you are for wanting such attention." The queen stayed still and didn't react to the tom's next movement, ending the punishment on his own. Instead, Jaguarstripe waited a few moments, allowing Thunderkit to walk past her. She then swiped with a paw, knocking the tom over and swiftly pinning with another paw. Whether her son liked it or not he was trapped, and getting close to the beating of his life. Dark brown eyes glared at Thunderkit, "Do you really think you're impressing anyone?" Although Jaguarstripe was aware the corrections she had chosen were not working on her son, she wasn't about to let him off the hook without hurting. She would find a way to get through to him before he was old enough to go outside the Nursery; that was for sure.

Jaguarstripe let Thunderkit squirm for a few moments before slowly unsheathing her claws, letting them poke at his chest. The queen then bent her head and nipped his ear, all in one swift motion. Her back paw jabbed his belly three or four times with impressive force, something that would most likely knock the wind out of the tom and leave him speechless for once. The deputy repeated the process three more times before letting go and swatting him once more across the head. Jaguarstripe didn't allow her frustration to show, "I can't wait to see what your mentor is going to do to you when you treat him with such disrespect." With that, the queen turned and padded away, ending her conversation with Thunderkit.

This was the day that a seed was planted in Jaguarstripe's head. A seed that would eventually grow and flourish into a way to get through to her rebellious son.

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Warkit stared as Thunderkit put on another little show. This was new, no one had ever tried to stop a correction on their own, even this was his brother's first. No, like Jaguarstripe said, the only thought going through this kit's mind was what a mousebrain Thunderkit was. He was only causing more trouble for himself. Sighing, Warkit shook his head as their mother beat on his brother, and he looked away. He couldn't believe he was even related to that tom anymore. If Thunderkit thought that was getting him anywhere, he had another thing coming. In ScarClan all that would get you is being treated like dirt. Literally. Warkit met eyes with Wrathkit, who seemed to share his thoughts. Their brother was getting out of hand.

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Furykit rested her head on her paws, staring at Thunderkit through narrowed eyes. She was going to tell him how stupid he was when he came to sit with them. After all, this she-cat wasn't ever one to hide her opinions from anyone. Furykit would've yelled it out now, but she had too much respect for her mother to interrupt her correction. That, and she was afraid of being punished. Her dull version of Scorchstar's eyes simply watched for a moment, almost purring at watching Thunderkit get what he deserved. She hoped her brother would end up getting mentored by someone like Lynxtail, although that was her nomination for Frostkit's mentor. That white lump of fur didn't deserve to live in ScarClan. Furykit agreed with her father, the tom should have been rid of as soon as possible.

[Scorchstar]

Thunderkit growled a bit at his mother, "Who said I was doing this for anyone, but myself?" Thunderkit was surprised when nothing happened to him after ending the correction on his own. He had expected to have a furious mother at his throat, literally. Maybe she had given up, finally accepted that he wasn't going to give up or back down and it was useless to try and stop his misbehavior. That would be beautiful, the thought even made a twisted little ScarClan version of a grin flash on his face. She wasn't as tough and impossible as everyone seemed to think she was, if she couldn't control one little unruly kit than how could she be the deputy of this Clan? The one he had always known to be the best, toughest, and strongest of any of the four Clans.

Then what had only been moments after ending his punishment he then was tripped up by his mother's paw. She was on top of him before he could've said foxdung. She was overwhelming with single paw swipes and only one paw kept him firmly on the ground despite his wriggling and spitting. Thunderkit stopped after a few wiggles, her strentth was much greater than his and it was useless to even try. He'd take this punishment like a warrior, so to demonstrate his control of emotions his face became stone and he didn't move a muscle as she spoke.

He wanted to say that he didn't want to impress anyone, he just enjoyed the thrill. He was done with useless words and showing of emotions, he was going to show his mother just how much of a ScarClanner he really was. Then he began to feel the pricks of her unsheathing claws in his chest. No flinching or grimacing arose. Next Jaguarstripe went for his ear, nipping at it as she began to send blow after blow at his stomach. Her claws were still slightly unsheathed, leaving little poke holes on his smaller belly. No emotion was shown, no flicker of anything, just that solid wall that was the trained apprentice's ticket to warriorship.

It ended with a swat on his head. Thunderkit wouldn't speak as Jaguarstripe again spoke down to him about what his mentor would think. Thunderkit stayed on the ground for a while longer, secretly catching his breath and making sure he'd keep up his facade when he did decide to move. Small droplets of blood had begun to form on his belly area, but as he flipped himself around he wouldn't allow it to bother him. He wouldn't even shake off the pain, he just headed over to the corner of the Nursery that his siblings were resting at. He went a bit further, finally resting in the farthest corner. He'd curl up into a ball, rest his head next to his back paws and let his tail curl around to touch his nose.

Frostkit's silver blue eyes never left Thunderkit as he received the worst punishment yet inflicted on a kit in this den. The foolhardy tom was definitely a cat of many firsts, it was kind of refreshing to see someone else looked down upon as his siblings were doing on him. He was a confusing one to say the least. Frostkit hadn't moved from the spot he was laying in now since the previous night, he couldn't even remember if he had even slept. All he knew was that his legs were cramping up, so he moved ever so slightly to stretch out. Unknowingly to himself though he made his white fur more visible in his mossy protection. A big splotch of white was now visible to anyone that turned to the right.

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[.:{Crag}:.]

Jagaurstripe's narrowing brown eyes followed Thunderkit with every movement he made. Her son may not have shown the pain while it was inflicted upon him, but it was obvious as he walked away, retreating into a dark corner. Nevertheless, the deputy knew he would be back again with his rebellion first thing tomorrow, so she had to be ready. The small she-cat sheathed her claws and began to return to her nest. Furykit and Wrathkit moved automatically to make room for their mother, making themselves comfortable on the opposite side of the next. Jaguarstripe didn't look the least bit tired or frustrated as she prodded the moss with her paws and lowered herself onto her belly. Soon, she knew, she would get through to Thunderkit. All the deputy needed was a plan; every kit has its weakness. The queen's paws crossed over each other, and her head was held high like always. Jaguarstripe looked like a true ScarClanner, though on the inside she was deep in thought. The little seed planted in the back of her mind was growing.

She had a plan.

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Furykit watched unsympathetically as her brother was given a beating he very much deserved. She had never seen her mother dish out such a long correction. Usually, the punishment was just as ferocious, but lasted for a much shorter time. It would consist of a few blows and then stern words, most likely followed by a swift swipe at your back leg as you left. But no, Thunderkit's punishment was drawn out. Every blow was followed by another blow, and soon Furykit had to look away. Finally, Jaguarstripe finished and allowed her son to move. He retreated to the dark corner behind their nest. The she-kit could not even fathom what a mousebrain Thunderkit was. It seemed like every single day he was being corrected for something, and he always had to draw it out and make everything worse for himself. She shook her head. Was it even possible he was Jaguarstripe's son?

Furykit scanned the Nursery for something a little more entertaining. Now that Thunderkit was done, things seemed rather boring. Dark brown eyes rested on Hookclaw's nest. What mistakes for ScarClan. Not one perfect kit, and one terrible terrible mistake. Frostkit's white fur was a disgrace, and he should have been rid of moons ago. But no, the horrid stench of mercy had to fall upon the Nursery. Even Scorchstar thought Frostkit should have been finished off. Furykit suppressed a growl as she glared at the patch of white fur that stuck out of the moss. Had she been the Medicine Cat, Hookclaw would have only two living kits now. Even at her young age, Furykit had the morbid ScarClan thoughts just like everyone else, and she has never hesitated to express them.

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Wrathkit moved for his mother, knowing that hogging the nest would only provoke her more. His odd brown eyes rested on Furykit, who seemed to be studying Hookclaw's nest. You'd think that with the thoughts going on in his sister's head she would be glaring, but her well covered emotions showed nothing but minor interest. Wrathkit stood and stretched out his long legs, unsheathing his claws as he 'unfolded' himself. He moved closer to Furykit, "That pile of snow is only taking space from the Nursery and food from the fresh kill pile." The large tom commented, "I believe Fallingleaf's decision was a foolish one." He sat and wrapped his tail around his paws, staring at Frostkit. Wrathkit honestly didn't care if he was making his denmate uncomfortable. After all, his white fur made him different, and different was not acceptable in this great clan. The pile of snow should know that.

His mind on the topic of mistakes, Wrathkit's gaze shifted to another kit: The bright ginger lump huddled against her mother. Emberkit was a waste of life as well; she was small, sickly, and not an acceptable color. The tom kit didn't understand how he was still here. Were unacceptable kits not gotten rid of? He shook his head slightly and looked away. What disgraces these kits were to ScarClan.

[Thistle]

A light gray tabby tom kit watched the deputy's dark brown tabby son get his punishment. Nothing surprised Battlekit here anymore about Jaguarstripe. He already knew she was toughest, strictest, and sternest queen in the Nursery, and had learned to keep well away from her. The small, but feirce thorn-eyed she-cat was scary enough without having memories of her beating him. Thunderkit and Warkit got what was coming to them, and if the mousebrained Thunderkit couldn't fit it into his bloated head that the punishments would only get worse, he was going to be crippled by the time he left the Nursery.

Battlekit and Stealthkit, his brown brother, were the eldest litter from the planned litters, along with Clawkit and Lonekit. The tom kit with leaf green eyes would not even bring himself down to the level of thinking the third kit's name. It was too humiliating to be born in the same generation as it. Battlekit was not one to feel sympathy especially towards Hookclaw and Pantherclaw's white son. He could only feel sorry for the humiliation he brought on his parents and his littermates. The next eldest kit was the poor Snakestrike and Harefoot's one miserable bright orange she-kit. Not only was this she-kit's appearance a disgrace, but so was her personality. She wouldn't even defy the talk about her and her illness. All the better, I suppose, Battlekit told himself.

The sturdy three and a half-moon old kit nearly flinched with surprise when he saw what happened once Thunderkit was ready to give up. Jaguarstripe had never been so tough before, not even with this thick-headed son of hers. Battlekit watched in fascination as Thunderkit was held down by the light ginger and black spotted and striped deputy and pummeled until he was beginning to bleed. The agressive Battlekit felt a tug in his paws as he wanted to charge over and take advantage of Thunderkit's weakness, but Jaguarstripe was too fired right now to risk her wrath...

Hahaha, Battlekit chuckled to himself. Jaguarstripe's wrath. Her Wrathkit! The eldest and most mature of Jaguarstep's litter made Battlekit laugh, him acting all superior. At least, that's what Battlekit saw it as. To the hotheaded tom kit, Wrathkit was a moon and a half younger than him, but he still saw him as competition for the highest places in the Nursery hierarchy. Having so many kits related to him only helped Wrathkit's position; he could get his cousins to be on his side more easily than Battlekit could.

And even if Wrathkit did make it to the lead in the Hierarchy, Battlekit still had to overcome Strikekit or Furykit (or maybe even the pig-head Thunderkit!) for the next position. But he was determined, and by far the strongest kit! He had beaten an apprentice for StarClan's sake! Of course... That apprentice was only a quarter bigger than Battlekit, being about 3 moons older. But it was still a great feat!

Battlekit watched in interest as the black-spotted ginger kit of Jaguarstripe's, Furykit, searched the Nursery for something to amuse her. And then he saw her stunning gaze fall on a small patch of white hiding in the moss of Hookclaw's nest. He watched as Wrathkit moved closer to Furykit and whisper in her ear, watching her nod slowly. He also caught the look in his eyes as Wrathkit's dark brown eyes drifted from the white to the bundle of miserable and sickly kit, known as Emberkit. Battlekit's ears twtched and he tensed his muscles, waiting to see what Jaguarstripe's two kits would do next.

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[Scorchstar]

Strikekit flicked his ears in the direction of his mother's approach, scooting over to the side of the den as to not get crushed by his mother. Though the other kits wouldn't dare say a thing to him about it, due to his size, Strikekit has always been the one closest to Jaguarstripe. Even now as she took her spot in the nest he would make it a point to lay farther away from his siblings and closer to her side. Momma's boy would in all likeliness end up a nickname for him in the long run, he found no hatred for the nickname yet. What was wrong with wanting to be close to the one that raises you? Especially if she is the deputy of your Clan, that alone was going to be key to the future of Strikekit's skills.

Strikekit's ears twitched faintly at the sound of his siblings comments about Emberkit and Frostkit. Personally he had never seen the point of ScarClan's plight for perfection in appearance. Though it was a noticeable disadvantage that didn't mean either of them would without a doubt be weak. He was a strong believer in giving everyone and anyone the benefit of the doubt, he could even guess that Lynxtail wouldn't be such a disgrace if he had been given a chance. It was almost like ScarClan was setting these cats up for failure. When they found out Strikekit was different would his flawlessness in all other aspects be looked over just because of one imperfection? It was probably this and the thoughts that sprouted from it that would make Strikekit a great warrior and an odd compassionate figure in a Clan that found its strength in the opposite.

Calmkit absentmindedly picked between her small black claws as her ears perked about listening and watching the happenings of the younger kits. Soon they would be told by their parents, mainly mother as it is a ScarClan tradition, about the hierarchy of the Nursery. Being one of the eldest kits of the Nursery, Calmkit was already leader of the Hierarchy of her litter, it wasn't like her brother was much of a challenge to spar with. So for the time being she was the unchallenged leader of the Nursery. She knew sooner or later she'd have to fight, and probably lose, her place in this Nursery. That was fine by her, everyone knew that she was more of the type for a deputy, advising was what she did and her cleverness wasn't easily surpassed. Inevitably the first new leader of the Hierarchy that chose her as their Deputy would in most likeliness have her loyalty. Which meant she would do all in her power to help them maintain their position with all of her brainpower. Her black tail flickered and she awaited from her perch on a small enclave of rock on one side of the Nursery for her spot to be swiped out from under her in a duel of tooth and claw.

Lonekit lay in the shadows of the den, his white sock was hidden under his chest in order to stay invisible. His amber eyes the only thing that made him visible, it was kind of a creepy look, one that would remain with him for all his life. It wasn't that he held emotion in his gaze, it was just an underlaying look of sorrow that haunted the tom. He didn't have much to be sad about on the outside, only one imperfection in comparison to his youngest brother's pelt of it. Yet it would soon be knwon that Lonekit was a cat that could never be pleased, no matter how good he was it would never be good enough, and no matter how much one skill was perfected the other would always bring him down. Perhaps it was a good trait for someone born in ScarClan, but to him it meant nothing but constant pain. The pain of knowing that you would never be good enough.

Frostkit's ears flickered he had quite the hearing when it came down to it. His silver-blue eyes were also sharper than most would expect from someone of his fur coloring in this Clan. So as he noticed Furykit's bored gaze flicker and land on him he could only guess what type of things would happen next. Especially once he realized that her attentions gained him those of Battlekit and her older brother Wrathkit. His fur bristled slightly as he barely caught the comments of Wrathkit about himself. He bit his tongue however, Frostkit couldn't even fathom why these cats all thought that because their pelts were perfect and they were of 'noble' ScarClan blood that that made them superior to anyone and everyone that was even slightly different from them.

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[.:{Crag}:.]

In just a very short amount of time, simply scanning the den thoughtfully, Furykit realized a lot of things. First of all, the eldest kit, and her cousin, Calmkit was the current leader of the Nursery Hierarchy. The deputy was probably either Battlekit or Wrathkit, although it was not set in stone yet. Their competition would not truly start for maybe another week; but certainly within the next moon. The small she-cat narrowed her dark brown eyes, looking slightly over Calmkit's shoulder so it didn't appear as though she was scoping out her weaknesses, but instead staring at Ragekit . Her other cousin, a tom and Calmkit's brother, would be easy to beat most likely. He was always seen as the wimp of the litter, and always tried to be a momma's boy even though Mistcloud would allow such a thing in her litter. Ragekit was the opposite of his name, quiet yet whiny, and would most likely have to have that pummeled out of him when he became an apprentice. Luckily for him, though, he was far from the weakest of the Nursery.

It was obvious who was tied for that.

Furykit turned her head away from her kin. Her next competition would most likely be her older brother Wrathkit. His size and brain power could easily get him to the top, even though he didn't really have the mind set to be a leader. Furykit had heard him complaining about Thunderkit so often, though, that it was probably his wish to put the obnoxious brother in his place. Wrathkit was more of a follower, and would most likely end up as one of the respected 'warriors' in the Nursery's little clan. Furykit closed her eyes in irritation as she saw a splotch of white in the corner of her gaze. Frostkit had attempted to and failed to cover himself with moss, as he did every day, and had yet again subjected the rest of them to staring at his deformity. The she-kit wouldn't bring herself down to the level to even talking to the tom, however, let alone bullying him about it. No, the pile of snow in the Nursery would most likely be ignored during kithood.

Furykit had just opened her eyes when teeth grabbed her scruff far from gently. She let out only a small grunt of surprise as Jaguarstripe pulled her close to her belly and began to groom her. "Come on, really?" Furykit growled, hating the demeaning thought of being groomed by her mother. Jaguarstripe responded with a bite, and the she-kit silenced.l The ScarClan way was not only a way of strength, but a way of hygiene as well. At least her mother wouldn't allow any insults from being groomed. She would pummel anyone who tried laughing at Furykit. The she-kit narrowed her eyes as if daring anyone to make fun of her, but no insults came. Finally her mother was finished, and Furykit was able to scoot away to her original place next to Wrathkit.

---

Jaguarstripe felt that grooming was almost as important as fighting or hunting well, as did many other queens in the Nusery. Furykit had been correct, had anyone laughed at her, her mother would have given them a beating to remember. Jaguarstripe continued licking her only she-kit for a few more moments before allowing her to go. It wouldn't be long before her litter would be given the responsibility of grooming themselves. This reminded the deputy how much fast they were growing, after all, it had seemed like only yesterday that she was pregnant, the horrible fate that she had to endure. But it was all over now, and all Jaguarstripe had to finish was raising them. In her opinion she was doing a fair job.

Strikekit wasn't far off(like always), so the queen grabbed him roughly by the scruff and brought him close. She drug her sandpaper tongue over the tom's soft kit fur, pulling out bits of moss and other unwanted things from his pelt. Jaguarstripe wasn't gentle with grooming. After a few more moments of subjecting Strikekit to this 'torture', as some would call it, she allowed him to move away as all did once she was finished. The queen's next subject was Wrathkit, who had already planted himself in front of his mother as to not have to be drug like a newborn kit to her side. Like always, her eldest sat quietly and respectfully as Jaguarstripe groomed him, only moving away when he was sure she was finished.