•◇•
"I feel numb most of the time"
•◇•

It had been four moons since the birth of the kits. And Swiftear had been right, it was tiring.

Meadowkit had decided to imitate her once-denmate, Fishpaw. The older she-cat had relished in the flattery of it in the beginning, but soon tired of it, and Dawnclaw had needed to talk to her first born, to talk her out of the behavior.

Coyotekit had proved to be quite the recluse, it had been worrying. He had rarely left the den, but luckily that appeared to have been a passing phase. The young tom-kit now played happily with his siblings, but he still loved the comfort of the den.

Maplekit was quiet, she was thoughtful. She hadn't caused that much trouble, but Dawnclaw had learnt that Maplekit was behind any misbehavior, and was remarkably sneaky. Dawnclaw always had to keep an eye on her!

Martenkit was energetic, bouncy and gullible. She fell for every trick played on her, and was constantly getting in trouble because of this. Dawnclaw always offered the little brown tabby support, because, while she currently didn't seem to care too much when her siblings laughed at her, Dawnclaw knew that innocence didn't last forever, and she didn't want her kit to get hurt.

Sablekit was different. He wasn't enigmatic exactly.. she supposed he was merely antisocial. He never played with the other kits. In fact, he never really spoke to them, nor to her. He spent ages alone. He was an odd kit. Dawnclaw never really spent time with him, even when he was younger. Managing five kits had been even more difficult than she had imagined, and she didn't have as much time as she wanted.

•◇•

She pricked her triangular ears as shrieks sounded through the air. Dawnclaw rose to weary paws as she walked out into camp.

She was greeted by the sight of her kits all playing together happily.

Maplekit was batting at her brother's nose, her mouth curled into a smug smile. Coyotekit was squeaking every time his nose was hit, and Martenkit and Meadowkit were giggling.

It was the perfect sight for any mother to see. But not Sablekit. He was merely watching, not even that. His eyes were fixed on the ground, his expression rather neutral. But his gaze held sadness, or fear? Dawnclaw couldn't tell, it was as if he was wearing a mask.

She sat down, concern prevalent in her amber gaze. Cocking her head, she continued to observe. Was that what Sablekit was doing? Solely watching? That was what Dawnclaw wanted to believe, but she knew there was something was wrong. Most kits, even quiet, antisocial kits, behaved differently to him. Those kits seemed happy, kits had no worries in the world! But Sablekit never smiled. He also seemed sad, or irritable. Then again, Dawnclaw hadn't really spoken to her kit in a while. She wanted to.. but she didn't know how to interact with him.

It was easier when he was younger.

She thought. But then she paused. She couldn't seem to drag up a memory of really bonding with him.

She remembered the times she truly bonded with each kit. She remembered comforting Meadowkit when Deerpaw and Fishpaw became apprentices, and the little she-kit was convinced she had lost all her friends. She remembered the feel of the kit's warm, fluffy fur cuddled against her.

She remembered when Martenkit had been tricked to go outside of camp, and she had hurt herself. Dawnclaw remembered soothing the little kit as she talked happily about her adventure, despite the tears still drying on her fur.

She remembered when Coyotekit had a nightmare, and cuddled into her for comfort.

She remembered when she found Maplekit outside at night, and the two had talked about the meaning of life, and how everything came to be. It was odd, that such a young kit could think of such deep things.

But Sablekit.. She couldn't drag up a memory where she really bonded with him. In fact, now she thought about it, the little kit had progressively become more inhibited, not really speaking to other kits, or herself.

It worried her. Surely her relationship with Sablekit was a healthy one, between mother and kit?

"Sablekit, come on and play!" A shrill yowl jolted Dawnclaw from her thoughts.

She watched with interest to see Sablekit's reaction to the offer of inclusion.

The black kit raised his eyes to Martenkit, it was she who had called him.

He said no words.
He made no movement.
He just looked at her, then turned his head.

It was an obvious act of rejection, but a strange one at that. Most kits would have vocalised their answer, but Sablekit didn't. Most kits would've been doing something else, not observing a game.

Sablekit is far from a normal kit. But every kit goes through stages, right?

______________________
A/N

How was this?
I'm enjoying writing this!
It wasn't as long as I'd like, but this was more of an introductory chapter, the plotline develops as the story goes on.

Fact of the Chapter: There are three Clans, SpruceClan (the Clan where this is set in) OakClan, and ElmClan