Pain Is Clear And Death Is Near

[Cobra]

[ Part of a backstory for Whiteclaw! ]

x-x-x _____ x-x-x

The tom watched from the shadows, his green eyes darting from the pelts of the kits to the mother. River scoffs, looking down at the kittens. "They aren't good enough," she growls. The calico tom stares at her still, willing her to stop and show the love she had shown him once. But she rolls her eyes impatiently, and nudges the body of the dead one. Dead one. The word echoes in his mind, and he pushes against the will to comfort River. He couldn't run out of the shadows, because she would hurt him, fight him, endanger him, kill him. They used to be so close, but she had stopped caring for him.. once Pebbleclaw had starting coming around. That cat had destroyed his mother's life.

x-x-x nameless x-x-x

Nameless mewls, pushing against his mother and gazing into her eyes. River continued to curse as she looked at his brother's and sister's, finally stopping at him and curling her lip in disgust. "You are gray," she sniffed. "The one who was white is dead, and he was destined for greatness. He was strong. You are not. You are Whitey." Whitey stared at his mother, tilting his head curiously. River stared down at him, anger in her beautiful green eyes. Whitey eyed her pelt, her gray pelt, exactly like his. He had assumed she would be happy he looked like her, but River seemed to be full of pure rage and hate.

A noise came from the side of their hideout, and a sudden "mmph!" came with it. Whitey looked over at the edge, light in his eyes, hoping that the cat would take him away. But it was only a dark gray-blue pelt with white patches that came, with love in his eyes. For him? Whitey doubted it. No, definitely not. The tom was gazing at River so strongly he could practically feel the love bursting from him. "Pebbleheart," River groaned. "what're you doing here? I don't want you around anymore, you gave me these brats." She indicated to the pile of meowing, furry, squirming kittens. Whitey pushed his way out of the pile, stumbling over to his father(?) and nosing him energetically. Ooh, he had a dad! Maybe better than his mom!

"I know," Pebbleheart panted. "but I had to come see you - to make sure you were okay. Oh!" He purred when Whitey began to push against him. "Who's this little guy? He clearly takes after his father! Did you see that, River?"

"Yes," River meowed exasperately. "I saw that, alright. And that kitten is named Whitey, for his dead brother." Pebbleheart shook his head.

"You can't just name a kit after somecat to honor them."

"I can do what I like and no one can stop me," River retorted, lashing her tail. "And as I recall, you could never push me around - or am I mistaken?"

"No.. you're not," Pebbleheart sighed. "You are definitely not mistaken. Anyways, I'm taking Whitey - he's Whitekit now." Hearing those words, River promptly had a fit.

"You can't take my son away! He belongs to me, I had him, I named him! If you take him away, I'll-I'll-" River panted anxiously, anger in her eyes.

"Shh," Pebbleclaw comforted. "you don't want him anyways, I'll take him out of your paws."

"Fine," she allowed. "I don't like him anyways." Pebbleheart rose, a rumbling laugh sounding in his throat.

"C'mon, little kit." He picked Whitey up, who was now asleep. The tom left the area under the steps, never to be seen again..

At least River thought.