Not It

Chapter 10

The sun crawled up the horizon, its simmering orange rays casting dappled shadows into the camp. Somewhere above the crowded den, a bird chirped gleefully to greet the new day. While most of the camp continued to sleep soundly through the high-pitched harmony, the nursery suddenly exploded with life.

"Good morning everyone!" Swiftkit yowled gleefully.

"It's a brand new day!" Pikekit exclaimed, jumping to his feet. 

Pigeonkit huffed. "And I'm already bored."

Cloverkit emerged from behind her mother's sleeping body and spoke with her eyes glued to her paws. "M-maybe we can pl-play a game?"

"What?" Applekit asked, "speak up, Cloverkit."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm really sorry. I'll try to be louder."

Pigeonkit rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you do that. Does anyone have any game ideas?"

"N-no..." Troutkit muttered quietly. 

Swiftkit perked up her ears. "Clan?"

"Played that," Pigeonkit stated.

"Roleplaying?"

"Did that."

"Pokémon?"

"Caught that."

"Mossball?"

"Tossed that."

Swiftkit sighed. "Well, then I'm out of ideas."

"Me too," Pikekit mewed.

"I've got nothing," said Applekit.

"Well..." Applekit began slowly, "if no one else has ideas, we can ask someone else."

"You mean like an apprentice or something?" Swiftkit asked. 

Applekit shook her head. "No. It's only fair that we ask Furzekit for ideas too."

Pigeonkit's jaw dropped from his face to the ground in less than a heartbeat. "You're not serious."

"Be nice!" Applekit scolded him before turning to Furzekit. "What do you think, Furzekit?"

The fuzzy gray tom blinked slowly. "I think... moss is very yum." He promptly used a claw to lift half of his mother's nest to his mouth. 

Pigeonkit huffed in frustration. "See? I knew he wouldn't be helpful."

"Actually," Swiftkit interjected, "he may be on to something." When all the kits (excluding Furzekit, who was messily tearing at the moss with his teeth) gave her looks of confusion, she continued. "I have a game. It's called Chef!"

"Um... w-what is a chef?" Troutkit asked tentatively. 

"Yeah, what's a chef?" Cloverkit added.

"It's obviously something Swiftkit just made up," Pigeonkit declared. 

Cloverkit averted her yellow eyes away from the tabby tom in embarrassment. "Sorry! I should've known... oh I'm really, truly sorry!"

"...Okay then."

Swiftkit shook her head and continued to explain. "We go to the fresh-kill pile and find something to eat. Then, we find and mix in interesting things to make it taste better! We can have a competition!" 

"I love a good competition," Pikekit mewed.

All at once, the kits tumbled out of the nursery and into the middle of the camp. Furzekit stayed behind, still happily chomping on his moss. The dawn hunting patrol was just returning to camp, much to their delight. Ravenbreeze carried two mice by the tail, Sprucejump held a vole and a squirrel, Doefoot brought a blackbird and a shrew, and Cherrystream lugged a large rabbit behind her. It was the perfect assortment of prey for the mischievous kits to get their paws on.