The next moon of Clawkit's life was laced with paranoia.

At first, he was rather doubtful of Cinderkit's words; perhaps he was hoping that his foster littermate was wrong.

But the dark grey kit was right.

Upon closer observation, Clawkit noticed the little things that gave away the other cats' discomfort. How they never looked at him in the eye for long when speaking, how some avoided conversation with him altogether, those were signals that the kit's new fears had come true.

Whenever his Clanmates saw him, they also saw a murderer, even though the dark brown tabby kit was innocent.

Clawkit never asked to be born with a pelt like his. Yet he had to live with it, under the scorching, judging gazes of his own Clanmates.

He wondered why his mother gave him such a name. A name with the word "claw" sounded unusual and especially villainous. Was it because she believed that he would be like Snarlfang, the next one who would bring chaos to the Clans?

At that point, he didn't want to know.

Above everything, there was Hailstar. Cinderkit warned Clawkit specifically about him. Of all of the cats in the Clan, the reddish brown tom seemed to be the most resentful towards him. Out of every cat, it had to be the leader of ThunderClan.

Clawkit did not stick around to find out the true extent of his resentment, avoiding him at all costs. He was just a mere kit, what could he do to defend himself from the most powerful cat in the Clan?

In fact, he was surprised that Hailstar did nothing yet. With the camp as small as it is, it was impossible to completely avoid the leader. Was he waiting for the perfect moment? The kit didn't want to think about it.

Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, he plopped onto his nest, bored out of his mind. There was still one long moon before his apprenticeship, and the days grew dull and mundane, the result of being stuck in camp for five moons.

The tabby kit had thought about sneaking out and exploring, but the thought of Lilyflower's face of disapproval was enough to deter him.

From the corner of his eye, Clawkit spotted Sandkit washing himself - more specifically, trying to flatten his tuft - in the middle of the camp. Strangely, the cream tom was alone; he was usually accompanied by his littermates.

As he finished up, having given up on smoothing his tuft, his eyes landed on Clawkit. Much to the older kit's bewilderment, Sandkit bounced over to the nursery, with a tiny smile on his face.

"Hey, Clawkit!" He sounded unusually enthusiastic. "You look bored."

"Is it that obvious?" Clawkit muttered.

"I mean, I would be," Sandkit remarked. "Five moons stuck in camp? I wouldn't be able to handle that."

"You have your littermates," he pointed out. "Speaking of them... where are they?"

Gesturing to the medicine cat den, Sandkit spoke. "Cinderkit and Wildkit got bellyaches, so they went to visit Sunstream. But anyways, we can finally play together."

"Huh?" Clawkit was terribly confused. Am I dreaming? Is this a joke?

No, Sandkit is not the kind of cat to do that.

The blue eyed kit simply gave his answer as a matter of factly. "Every time you try to join in, Wildkit always make some discouraging comments and we end up arguing, chasing you away! And Cinderkit doesn't do anything to help. So I feel bad... plus, Lilyflower said that the Clan is a community; we should stay connected and things like that."

"B-but if you don't want to play, we can talk too," he mewed hastily. "I still don't understand a lot of things, but I'll do my best."

Clawkit was dumbfounded. For the first time in his life, some cat - other than Specklebreeze, Lilyflower and Emberstorm - wanted to talk to him. Hope stirred in his belly as he tried to find his voice.

"O-okay," he stammered, still stunned by the turn of events. "I don't really feel like playing, but I don't know what to talk about either... sorry..."

"It's okay," Sandkit meowed. "Come, let's walk around camp while we talk. I... don't like to sit around."

Despite the fact that Clawkit knew every nook and cranny of the camp, making it boring, he did not want to disappoint the younger kit. Rising from his mossy nest, he followed his lead.

"I've always admired my father." The dark brown tabby kit looked up as Sandkit spoke, his eyes practically sparkling. "Hardworking, dedicated and brave, that's who I want to be."

He stopped abruptly, almost causing Clawkit to slam into him. "I wish I knew his name."

"Lilyflower never told you?" the older kit asked, baffled.

"She never told any cat." Sandkit sighed, glancing at the warriors' den. "If my father is really a great warrior, why won't she tell us who he is?"

Clawkit could not figure out any words to reassure him, finding no good reason for the secrecy of something so simple.

"I don't know," he admitted defeatedly.

"It's okay... we are still kits after all," Sandkit muttered, before raising his voice. "Let's move on."

Clawkit was not sure he could do that. It was like a flea clinging onto his pelt, nagging at him at every time of the day. Nonetheless, he nodded.

There was nothing much he could do anyway.

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Sorry for the long wait. ^-^"

What do you think of Sandkit? Personally I think he is a potential leader, but as of now, I haven't planned out that far yet.