Depression, My New Obsession. My Home Sweet Home.

The night was quiet as the full moon gave off an eerie glow, basking everything in a cold and isolated hue of white as Icestorm padded in the early morning, the birds still silent as they continued their sleep. The edge of sleep deprivation throbbed at the edges of his brain and he sighed white clouds into the air. He reached out his senses, searching for signs of movement in the undergrowth. Suddenly, a flicker of movement caused Icestorm’s senses to heighten, and he narrowed in on a small heather bush, lightly dusted with frost.

He padded closer, lowering his body into a hunters crouch as he stalked his prey. With every step, he could feel the saliva begin to form at the edges of his mouth. His pawsteps slowed and he waited for movement before striking. Icestorm was interrupted by a long, familiar growl that sent shivers down his spine.
The tom had to stop himself from yowling out in surprise as a small bundle of fur rolled out of the undergrowth. Icestorm’s eyes darted back and forth from the kit to the bush before padding over and taking the bundle of fur in his jaws, heart still pounding hard in his chest.

- - -

The black bundle of fur from earlier sat snug in the medicine cat den. The damp black cave overlooked the leaders den, where Icestorm kept a watchful eye. The deputy glanced at the camp entrance from before, the growl still echoing in his ears and his fur rose slightly at it. Shaking his head, Icestorm quickly started his stride down the boulder’s edge until he jumped down and landed paw steps from the medicine den.

Leechnose was inside, sorting herbs out silently while her new apprentice, Crowpaw, tended to the kit.

“How’s he doing?” Icestorm rumbled, causing both medicine cats to jump.
“The kit is doing much better,” Crowpaw chimed in happily before turning to his mentor, “he does have frostbite on his ear tips, but I should be able to clear that up soon enough.”

After he spoke, the silk-furred apprentice went back to crushing up herbs. Annoyance bit at Icestorm's pelt like angry snakes and he cringed slightly. Why? He didn't know. As he walked out of the den and back into the cold morning air, his brain shuddered and his thoughts frazzled for a moment. The tom shook the burly feeling out of his head.

Perhaps a walk would help, he thought distantly as he shuffled through the thorny entrance.

Wet fog clung to the lowest birch branches and set the forest into a dreary mood. The black trees stretched overhead and the falling leaves drifted through the breeze like dust. Dark clouds gathered overhead, promising rain or snow, as it was the season that both were very possible. The gumbo that stood elbow-tall squelched and clung to Icestorm's tan fur and made him tense up in disgust. He made a slight fool of himself as he tore his legs through the sticky dirt, lifting his limbs high one by one.
Once Icestorm had made it into the clearing, he closed his eyes and let his mind wonder, allowing each leaf that fell to form an image in his head. Flashes and glimmers of faces known and forgotten shown in his mind but he forced them out. But the thoughts clung to his mind like moss on a tree, causing his eyes to clench in panic and his lungs ache with attempts to breathe.
Suddenly feeling trapped and frightened, he bolted. Drops of dark mud flew through the air as he unevenly ran, desperately trying to dodge his anxious thoughts without stopping.

Running made him feel free from an unseen enemy that was trying to pin him down. Icestorm did not deny the fact that maybe, possibly, perhaps his mind clanked in ways other cats clunked. Almost like his mind went tick when everyone else went tock. Yet he didn't mind; he praised being different. His mind was a mechanism of uncertainty and curiosity. Icestorm asked the questions no other cat dared to even think and thought the thoughts no sane cat could fathom, causing his muzzle to form a crooked and malevolent smile before he shook his head furiously, dazing the thoughts that swarmed his head away.

Icestorm slowed his pace to a trot before stopping at the foot of a tree. His muscles ached and his body shook in spasms, his pelt rippling as he tried to catch his breath; the thoughts slowly crawling back.
Without taking much notice, his paws extended above his head and he curled his long, jagged claws deep into the flesh of the white birch bark. Being out in the forest allowed him to feel at home, he didn't have to hide himself from his clan members. He didn't have to worry about being called ‘crooked’ or ‘unethical’ he didn't have to hide himself.
With a swift forward swipe, he tore his claws from the tree, causing a shatter of bark to fill the air and litter his pelt.

A small and feeble voice spoke from behind the icy tom.
“Icestorm?” a thin white she-cat spoke, her voice shaky and weak. The tom spun around and awkwardly lapped at his pelt, attempting to cover up his display of distaste.
“Yes Sweetsnow?” he asked, his voice dripping with honey as he tried to lull the she-cat away from his violent display prior.

“A-are you alright? I can smell the anger flooding from you…” she said, shuffling her paws nervously.
“I'm fine.” he said curtly, irritated with the she-cats observations.
“Just needed time alone.” He added, forcing a smile to ensure he would be alright.
“Well, alright then,” Sweetsnow murmured, her fearful eyes watching him for a moment longer.

Annoyance crept up his spine and made him inhale sharply. Why was she still here? The fog lingered around them and made the air feel like it was suffocating them, their pelts lost from the world for a moment. He felt like everything suffocated him, really. A fear that causes so much paranoia that you feel it everywhere, is a sure fire way to know you’re crazy.

But he was not crazy at all; peculiar, odd, interesting, different, bizarre, idiosyncratic, they were all good adjectives that were not related to crazy.

Icestorm forced himself to calm down, refocusing his blue eyes onto the bony she-cat who was still standing there. Inspecting him carefully with her distrusting yellow eyes. He shot her a questioning look and she made a choking-coughing noise and bowed her head respectively and slightly embarrassed

“I'm sorry, I j-ju-just zoned out a lit-little bi-it,” she stuttered nervously, spinning on her muddy toes and stepping carefully away.

He watched blankly as her frame began to distort and fade in the fog before padding deeper into the forest.

--

Batkit raised his head high in the air, looking around with confusion at the unfamiliar den he now lay in. The small tom shifted around in his nest, inspecting his pelt for injuries, flicking his ears as they scanned the den for any hinting noises. Batkit was interrupted as Crowpaw padded through the entrance and stopped abruptly with a mouth full of herbs, the sun shone warmly on the much older tom, giving his pelt a glossy glow as he laid the herbs at his paws and smiled kindly at the little kit.
“Good afternoon! I was hoping you’d awake by this morning, but I can’t say I wouldn't sleep in if i was in your situation. It’s funny, when I was a kit I always wished I was older so I could take the duties of the clan head on and prevail successfully. But now I just wish the only things I had to worry about was when my mother would feed me next.” The apprentice stopped and put the herbs into a store. Batkit watched curiously and hesitantly, refusing to mutter a word. Not like he had much time before the other tom continued.
“There’s always so much to learn, new remedies, poisons, sickness…” Crowpaw trailed off as he began counting the amount of heather leaves he had.
“But I’d never regret it. It’s hard, but it’s even more rewarding when you know you truly helped someone out.” Crowpaw commented before sitting in front of the kit.
“By the way, I assume you've noticed, but you’re not in the forest anymore. Our deputy Icestorm found you collapsed in the forest, you’ere out like the sun at night. I can only imagine what would have happened if you weren't found.” Crowpaw paused, thinking silently to himself with a worried look on his face.
“But that doesn't matter. You’re safe here and that’s what counts!” he laughed, which made confusion sweep over Batkit. This wasn't funny, so why was he laughing? “My name is Crowpaw, by the way, and you’re in ForgottenClan’s medicine den. Welcome!” he announced with a humble purr.
“How long was I asleep?” Batkit asked with a nervous shuffle of his paws.
“About three days. Me’n’ Leechnose were unable to determine why you had passed out in the first place. We only found slight frost bite on your ear tips. Strange.” Crowpaw said with a twitch of his whiskers before continuing.
“What’s your name, kit? Where are you from?”
Batkit looked at Crowpaw, more confusion clouding his mind.
“My name’s Batkit. I'm from Emberclan.” he looked away and down at the ground as he murmured, tensing his toes in thought.
“Or… or I used t’be. The last thing I remember was a terrible fire that swept away my clan. The-the rest... is all foggy.” Batkit said, his head throbbing as he tried to remember.
“I'm five moons old… My clan lived the moors of the south- south-urn-southern? - horizon. But I don’t know how I got here either… Everything is just a fog to me.”
Crowpaw placed the tip of his tail over Batkit’s paws.
“Don’t worry, you've been through enough. It doesn't matter right now, just take this time to rest,” Crowpaw mewed softly. “I’ll send in Fallenstar - that’s our leader!” the tom stated happily and as “a matter of factly, no sign of his previous softness in sight.
---

After laying in his nest for a few hours, Batkit soon grew restless waiting for the leader, and he felt as though he had been forgotten about. Letting out a sigh of frustration, Batkit watched the entrance of the den just as pawsteps echoed through the den.
Fallenstar and Icestorm padded through the lichen-covered entrance. While Icestorm sat at the entrance, Fallenstar padded to the edge of Batkit’s nest and dipped her head gracefully.

“Greetings, guest. If I may have the pleasure of acquainting your name, I may tell you that my name is Fallenstar, leader of ForgottenClan.” the silver she-cat spoke smoothly, her voice almost as silky and smooth as her pelt, which was clean and well kept. Dipping his head respectively in return, Batkit let a warm purr escape his throat.
“My name is Batkit.” he said with a hint of amusement at how humble the leader was, but still trying to match her intelligence.
“Ahhh… Batkit. What a very unique name.” she said with a friendly twitch of her whiskers before raising her head and sitting with her head kept stiffly straight up, giving her a noble and wise aura.
“My deputy, Icestorm, has informed me that you are without a home?” she questioned before beckoning the brute tom forward, a pang of grief spoke modestly in her words. The deputy stepped forward and exchanged a glance with the leader before padding over to Batkit silently.
“If you wish to join our rankings as an apprentice, when you’re of age, I have been offered the opportunity to mentor you myself.” Icestorm said with a friendly wink before looking at Batkit warmly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
Batkit thought the offer over in his mind before nodding and mewing aloud,
“I’d be… honoured! H-honoured to live with your clan and under your code. It’s rumoured that your code that the warriors follow, isn't the same as mine…”
Icestorm piped in happily, “Then you have much to learn, and with good time, I shall teach you these things and, with no exceptions, the ways the warriors live here.”
“Alright, then it is settled. Icestorm, I expect you to mentor this kit starting one half moon from this day. And to teach him the immediate routines of our camp starting as soon as possible. I have spoken to Leechnose, and she informs me that you’re well enough to start tomorrow. But tonight is the medicine cat meeting, and she has asked Icestorm to stay behind with you to tend to your dressing and needs.” Icestorm looked at Batkit and nodded as Fallenstar turned to walk away.
“I expect great things from you, young Batkit.” she said before leaving them alone in the quiet den.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s only acting intimidating to put on a good appearance. She’s very understanding and compassionate once you get to know her,” he noted, twitching his tail tip, “Anyway; I hope you don’t mind that I've requested to mentor you. I was the one who found you in the forest after all.”
Batkit was taken aback by his sudden arrogance.
“Thank you, if it wasn't for you I'm sure I wouldn't have survived.” Batkit thanked Icestorm anyway, his eyes shining with curiosity.
“Just happened to be at the right place at the right time I suppose. Do you have any questions about the clan or the way we do things?” Icestorm asked, curling his large and fluffy tail across his paws, the tip twitching slowly as the rest of his tail lay limply relaxed.
Batkit had to stop and think, allowing the flood of questions to flood through his mind, only choosing the most important questions.

“Who should I avoid? I don’t want to step on anyone's tail the first time I meet them…” Batkit asked subconsciously and anxiously.

Icestorm let out a purr of amusement, which made his ears heat up in embarrassment.
“Well, Toadfoot would be a starter, he is our oldest elder in ForgottenClan, and every cat in the clan knows to steer clear from his harsh tongue,” he spoke harshly, making Batkit flinch in surprise, “His friend however, Eaglewing, is one of the sweetest toms the clan has to offer. I guess you could say that they even each other out. I'm sure you can make good friends with Eaglewing. But each cat has a personality and behaves different, so just don’t let on any weakness and you should be fine.” Icestorm said with a purr.

Batkit sat straight up in his nest, a determined look in his eyes and he held his head high and his tail erect. “Like this?” he asked Icestorm with a low rumbling purr. Icestorm opened his squinted eyes wide in surprise and laughed.
“Something like that, kit,” the amused tom said with a twinkle in his eye before arching his back and raising his hackles, somewhat resembling a frightened porcupine before opening his mouth wide, beads of saliva dripping from his teeth as he curled his tongue and let out a low, hoarse and fierce growl that slowly crescendoed into a wailing hiss. Batkit watched in shock as the seemingly harmless tom transformed into a rabid dog before his eyes.
“Wow! That’s great! Teach me how you do that!” Batkit shouted excitedly, rearing on his hind paws.
“Well, first of all; fix your posture. See, here. Drop your shoulders a tad and stretch your neck out forward, so your neck fur fluffs up.” Icestorm instructed while placing a paw on Batkits shoulder blades.