Cloverkit [TC]

Precious, a wide-eyed and adventurous kittypet, never expected a rendezvous with a local tomcat to ultimately lead to her demise. She was a pretty young thing, a ginger, brown, and white tortoiseshell who usually had a determined expression in her sparkling green eyes. She didn't even realize she was carrying kits until one of her well-versed neighbors pointed out that her scent had begun to change. After this fence post exchange, it didn't take long for her two-legs to notice her pregnancy, either. 

At first, things remained the same in her twoleg nest. It wasn't until her belly was heavily- undoubtedly- swollen with kits that her family took her for a ride out to the country. As much as they'd seemingly loved Precious during their brief time as her owners, the only family members that seemed to be upset about her departure were the kits of her twolegs, who wailed and gave their tearful goodbyes before reentering the monster. leaving Precious completely and utterly alone. Although unsure of her exact location, the scent of ash lingered in the humid Newleaf air, and the remains of charred trees made it abundantly clear that all the old life in the area had been driven out. 

Clueless of what to do with her newfound, unwanted freedom, Precious began to waddle through the destroyed forest looking for an area to begin nesting. She wasn't simply going to let herself die if she could help it- she could go into labor at any time now, and finding a safe, warm place to hide was her top priority. It took some time for her to find the perfect spot, but eventually she came to find an uninhabited, hollow, and sooty tree stump that would suffice, at least until she could move around more easily. She spent several cool spring nights in silence, forcing herself to sleep, until finally she felt the pains of labor. The birth was long, painful, and produced two stillborn kits, with only one pale ginger tabby surviving. She was runty, came out without a sound, and initially refused to nurse. It was only with the full attention of Precious, her forceful nudging and licking, that allowed the little tabby to cling to life. Precious hardly had time to be upset about the other two kits when the runt needed her full attention, and simply followed her instincts regarding what to do with her two stillborns. Exhausted, Precious didn't even bother to name her kit before relaxing her body, the tiny she-cat held close. She drifted in and out of consciousness, dotting on her. 

It was not far into the kit's first few sunrises and sunsets of life before Precious could no longer stand the pangs of hunger that haunted her. She had little milk, and despite the hearty diet she'd enjoyed as a kittypet, she was starting to thin. With little experience hunting, she resorted to sniffing out carrion and eating the dung of other animals. Although it likely seemed that she'd hit rock bottom, the alternative was allowing her kit to die. And if she dies, Precious had thought to herself, I won't be far behind her, anyways. Besides, if her kit was surviving her overly extended absences so early in life, perhaps there was some force that wanted her to come out of this situation alive. 

One particular morning, as Precious munched on a rare patch of healthy grass, just to have something in her belly, she noticed a small patch of clovers, growing heartily through the darkened soil. How sweet, that somethin' so small can continue ta' grow even when there's such slim odds. For a brief moment, the old sparkle she had in her eyes returned. Just for a moment.

The little, runty, pale ginger, from here on out, would be named Clover.

If Precious hadn't been wasting away from malnutrition by the time Clover had finally opened her eyes, after nearly a moon, she might've noticed her kit's disability. However, Precious could barely keep herself from drifting in and out of consciousness, having become distant. It's of note that Precious's condition was likely due to more than just malnutrition, and may have also been caused by internal parasites or other diseases she was exposed to while eating carrion. Regardless, the brief moments she was awake, she spoke to her daughter in long rambling sentences, telling broken up stories that instilled a false sense of hope in the she-kit. Her mother spoke warmly of Clover's father, spoke coldly of her twolegs, spoke brightly of the future. Clover simply leaned in closer to her mother as she mumbled. She felt a chill. It was so cold at night, even in her mother's fur.
 

In the early morning, before the fog had lifted to reveal a beautiful Newleaf- almost Greenleaf- day, Clover awoke to a stench so pungent she tumbled backwards, untangling herself from her mother's limp limbs. It took a few moments for the kit to realize she could no longer hear her mother's soft breathing, her delirious rambling. Worst of all, when she tried to suckle, there was no milk. Although she was too young to fully comprehend what had happened to her mother, she was aware of the fact that something was horribly, terribly wrong. It was as if suddenly her already growling belly felt even hungrier, her thin coat even thinner. All there was left to do was yowl. 

Having no concept of the passage of time, Clover cried until she was so hoarse that she was coughing and gagging. She'd also gradually shuffled further away from her mother, the dead queen's stench overwhelming her senses. Eventually, part of her body was hanging outside of the trunk, visible to the outside. Whether it was due to her crying, her head poking out of the trunk, or the reeking scent of death, Clover could sense something, or someone, approaching. 

She has little memory about what happened next, but she does recall the sensation of teeth sharply pulling at her scruff and being yanked out of the tree stump. Then, wind, followed by the sound of heavy breathing. The next thing she recalls in being in an unfamiliar, wide clearing with a distinctive feline scent. There seemed to be lots of yowling, scrambling.

Eventually, however, she could feel herself being dragged once again, into a warm, damp den that smelled of milk. It wasn't long until the starving furball was guided over to a nursing queen, Tansyeyes, and frantically began to suckle. Although the queen didn't appear to be thrilled to nurse a kit from such circumstances, Tansyeyes knew that Beetlejaw would have her tail if she verbalized any complaints. 
The past few moons since she joined ThunderClan, Cloverkit has made her best effort to get acclimated to her new surroundings. With a particular attachment to Beetlejaw, Cloverkit would pester him sunrise to sundown about clan life, whenever she could get away with it. Despite their obvious connection, Cloverkit is only beginning to put together the pieces as to why he refuses to allow her to call him her father. Overall, she's a shy kit, but one that enjoys to learn and listen.