River's Children
Speckle was warm.
Two warm bodies pressed against her, her sisters, as all three snuggled against their mother. Speckle could feel the rasp of her mother's tongue against her crusted eyes before suddenly it was cold. Her mother had stood, taking her calming scent with her. Her mother called to her kits, and Speckle tumbled in the direction of her voice, slower than her sisters. She could hear a faint splashing and hurried, thinking excitedly that her mother was going teaching them to swim in the small pool in their den. When she reached her mother, she chirped excitedly, only to get a mouthful of water as her head was forced down.
She struggled as hard as her little body could, thrashing in the water. She squealed for help every chance she could for her mother's help, only to be met with none. Eventually, as things were starting to go faint, she heard voices. The pressure abated, and as she shakily tried to pull herself away from the water, she was scooped up quickly, voices trying to soothe her. Water exploded from her mouth as she coughed, tiny body trembling.
Unfamiliar tongues rasped against her fur, grooming the fur the wrong way in an attempt to warm her up. Eventually she was placed beside her mother again, the milky smell supposedly comforting but something felt.. wrong. There was no warmth in her mother's voice as she was cleaned.
Speckle was Cold.
"Speckle? Speckle dear wake up."
Speckle slowly opened her eyes, blinking the sleep away. In front of her was her aunt, Stream. Rubbing an eye with a paw, she sat up in her nest.
"You were having a nightmare again hun." Her aunt rasped her tongue over Speckle's forehead once, before stepping back. She smiled slightly but her eyes were full of worry.
"It… It was the dream again." Speckle was quiet, shuffling her little paws. "Sorry if I woke you up."
"Nonsense, you didn't wake me at all, I was already planning on waking you and the other kits up, but I was just worried for you." Stream looked at her kindly, before pulling her into a hug. Speckle froze for the splittest of seconds before returning the hug, pressing her head into her aunt's chest. She took a few deep breaths, inhaling the calming scent of her aunt's fur,
"What were you waking us up for again mom?" Speckle looked up and over, startled for a second until she saw her cousins, Leap and Briar, sitting next to each other, each looking just as sleepy as each other. Nearby was Rust, the only other kit in the clowder at the moment. She was a quiet kit, especially since her parents passed.
"-So that's why we're going over this today." Speckle snapped back to attention. Her aunt had stepped away, towards the entrance of the nursery. The kits quickly fell behind her as she stepped through the vine curtain. Squinting at the sudden change in brightness, Speckle nearly stumbled over her own paws as she followed. It was chilly in the camp clearing, the stone oven near the main den just having it's fire stoked to life by Moon, the head camp keeper.
Suddenly, a shiver ran down her spine, and Speckle looked around until she made eye contact with Thrush, who had just come back into camp. He always looked at her funny. She didn't like him much. Quickly turning back to the group, she hurried after, soon reaching the recording den, where they wrote down major history events and stored the records. It was also where a lot of lessons took place. Speckle's ears perked as she realized that they were going to have a lesson today, excitement starting to bubble up and wash away the remaining sleep from her bones.
As the group slid into the admittedly cramped den, most of it taken up by the records stored on clay tablets, she took in the scenery. She loved the den's painted walls, where the most important history lessons were displayed.
"Now, who wants to tell me who runs the camp?" Stream turned to face the kits, eyes sparkling.
"Oh! Oh! Camp Keepers like you!" Speckle burst out, tail shooting up.
"That's correct! Camp Keepers make sure that the camp remains safe for everyone, and tends to the fires used by…" Stream gestured to Leap with a paw, "Leap?"
"The cooks!" He chirped, grinning.
"And who is the head of cooking in our clowder?"
The kits thought hard for a moment, before Rust gently spoke up. "Mister Swift, right? He's always around the oven around mealtimes."
Stream smiled again, clapping her paws together. "Exactly! Though I do think he chose that job to lounge around as much as possible, he Does prefer making stews after all." She joked, earning a chorus of giggles, "Now, can anyone tell me who takes care of our injuries and speaks to our ancestors the most?"
Briar perked up, before chiming in. "Miss Elder's Bark, our healer does! And so does Leaf!" This earned him a pat on the head from his mother.
"Good job! Yes, healers are our link to our ancestors, though once you all become students, it's custom to go to Mother Root and dream of them at least once that first night. It's also very important you always listen to a healer, especially when it comes to herbs and other plants. Anyone want to explain why?"
"Because they know which ones are ok to eat and which ones will hurt!" Leap spoke up again, very used to being scolded by the ancient healer for nearly eating something poisonous.
"Exactly. Now, what are the roles that go out into the territory and do things there?" Stream asked gently, looking over the kits in front of her.
Speckle beamed as she spoke, excited to share, "There are Traders, Hunters, and Patrollers, though all grown-ups do a bit of each!" She chirped happily as he aunt praised her for her correct answer.
"Now can you tell me who Traders trade with?"
"They trade with The Farm, and with the Pine Clowder! But Not the Cloud Clowder, because they're meanies and we're at um… War! Yeah!"
"Good job Speckle, that's exactly it. Goodness all four of you are going to become great students soon!" Stream exclaimed, pulling them all in with her tail for a hug. "How about we get some breakfast now?"
Leap cheered, and raced for the exit as soon as the hug was over. "I'm gonna be the best hunter this clowder has ever seen!" He yelled, bursting through the curtain. The others stifled laughter as they followed. As they walked, Speckle paused by the log that made up the first half of the healer's den.
"Worried about your grandpa?" She startled as a reddish-brown tom poked his head out of the curtain. He gave her a sympathetic smile, and nodded.
"He's doing fine, just still pretty contagious. He'll recover in time for your student ceremony for sure!" Leaf nodded again, before a raspy voice called for him and he ducked back into the den quickly.
Speckle blinked at how quick the interaction had been, before hurrying herself after the rest of her group. Thinking on it, she had never been close to Leaf in the nursery, he was always closer to Briar and Rust. In fact, he and Briar still spent a lot of time together, after all, he had only been out of the nursery two moons at this point.
She slowed her pace as they all reached the oven, Swift lazing about as rabbit strips sizzled on a nearby grillstone, and fish hung over the smoking pit. He looked up as the group approached, grinning slowly.
"Welcome! Breakfast is just about done little dudes and dudettes, we're having rabbit strips, unless ya'll are feeling smoked fish instead, I'm sure the patrollers wouldn't mind sharing." His laidback attitude was soothing, and Speckle was always amused at the fact that he kept moss in his fur, supposedly to keep himself cool. He was fun to be around, that was for sure.
"Just the rabbit strips for us Swift, better leave the rations for those who need it." Stream spoke, much to the dismay of Speckle. Fish was her favorite, but she did understand why it should be left. Swift seemed to notice the minute change in her facial expression, because he sat up.
"Alrighty, probably for the best since we'll be having fish stew for dinner tonight." Behind him, Ripple, who had been manning the fire, groaned. She always complained about making fish stew. Too many bones to remove or something. Speckle really couldn't bring herself to care at the moment, too happy about the future meal. Maybe one day she'd understand the problem with it.