Mischief (IC/O)

Moonkit cocked her head to one side again. A sharpness? Was it like the sharp taste of fresh-kill? She didn't think so. Laurelheart could just tell her if that was the case. Her curiosity was piqued. He sounded as if everyone knew what pain was, but she didn't. Honestly, she could never grasp the full concept of pain. When Burnkit was about 1 moon old she had a terrible stomach ache and when the queens tried to explain, Moonkit just nodded her head politely, too shy to ask what was wrong. She never did really understand what had Burnkit curled on the floor, yowling her head off in misery. "Show me what?" She asked.

“Show you what pain feels like.” Laurelheart looked over his shoulder as if expecting to be scolded.

It sounded absolutely awful when he said it out loud. It wasn’t as if he was planning to claw her ears off or anything, just give a little demonstration until she felt anything, if she could feel anything. Was that even possible? If there had ever been a cat who didn’t feel pain he had never heard so much as a whisper. At first it seemed like a really novel thing, a cat who could charge fearlessly into battle time after time, slowly treatment after treatment rolled through his mind. Again and again he asked the questions; ‘where does it hurt?’ ‘can you describe the pain for me?’. His face went unreadable.

Moonkit didn't get it. She felt nothing but the ground beneath her paws or the stiff air of the den. She never knew other cats felt other things than the things around them. She had gotten scratches here and there but she never felt so much as a "sting" as Laurelheart called it. Her face was quizzical and slightly curious at this novel concept "pain". "Do all cats feel pain?" She asked, putting emphasis on the word pain. Her face registered total confusion and loss at the thing she was missing out on, but she didn't even wince when she scraped her injured paw nervously into the ground as if a nervous tick. She never knew she was so different. She had just assumed no cats could feel "pain" like she did.

A knot was growing in Laurelheart’s belly, she… didn’t feel pain? He struggled to wrap his head around how this came to be. Other than her kitting, this was the first time Laurelheart had treated Moonkit. She’d never come to him crying about so much as a belly ache, it could very well be the truth.

“Every cat I’ve ever met feels pain.” He said slowly, crouching down to her level. “You might just be good at tolerating pain.”

His face was taunt, wary. Somehow it didn’t seem like pain tolerance went this far, cats still felt pain they just were better at pushing it aside. The knot threatened to swallow him; what was he going to do?

Moonkit felt a ball of anxiety in her chest. She didn't want to be different? What if Burnkit looked at her differently; treated her differently. "Every cat?" she whimpered, crouching back. Would other cats hate her because she was different? She scraped her claws anxiously in the ground, unaware blood dotted the ground from her paws as she scraped it against the hard earth in an attempt to calm her fears. "I don't want to be different," She whimpered again, her voice rising to pitiful, kit-like squeal, like the kit calling to its mother in a pathetic voice.

Seeing her so vulnerable like that, even being so lost himself, the medicine cat part of his brain kicked in and Laurelheart made to rub his chin all over her face and engulf her in the warmth of his fur. They would get through this. Starclan worked in mysterious ways but for once Laurelheart, couldn’t for the life of him see where they were going with this, wasn’t reassured by the thought.

“Being different isn’t a bad thing.” Laurelheart said. “Do you see seven other Laurelhearts running around, bickering over who gets to sort herbs and who has to fetch mousebile?”

Moonkit fought to bite back a laugh but it came out of her anyway. She looked up into Laurelheart's warm eyes and then glanced away again. Fear engulfing her once more. She hated to be so different. But still she had always been different, she just now realized it. "So when other cats act and seem so miserable, they're in pain?" Moonkit asked. "That's what's always wrong with them? I always wondered why," the last part was more for herself than anyone else. "I remember when Burnkit had a really bad stomach ache and you helped," Moonkit commented, "I was so confused then. I didn't know what was wrong with her. I didn't know why she didn't want to play and why she all of a sudden seemed so miserable. The queens trued to explain but I still didn't get it and they looked at me as if I was strange. Now I know," Her voice was solemn and tinged with sadness. She wanted desperately to know what pain felt like.

Much as he wanted to keep Moonkit and her scratch in for observation he had to treat this like any other scratch. There would be nothing worse for her than being singled out and made to stay in the medicine cat den alone. Her foot could handle the weight and as long as it was kept clean the risk of infection was low. Laurelheart steeped away from the kitten.

“It’ll be okay.” He reassured her before turning to a brisk tone. “Now I’m sure the queens will want you back in the nursery before you know it. So go. Play. Join Burnkit in whatever mischief she’s planning.”

He would have to work something out with the queens, perhaps a system of checking Moonkit over for lumps and bumps each day but for the moment there was nothing to keep her coddled in the stuffy den when there was a big wide camp to explore.

Moonkit nodded her head briskly, about ready to leave. She turned back to face Laurelheart one more time before she left. "Laurelheart, could you please not tell every cat?" Moonkit asked in a low, pleading voice. "It's okay if you tell my mother and everything, but I don't want every cat to know. They might treat me differently." A hopeful, pleading look was on Moonkit's face.

Laurelheart found himself nodding. “Of course, if you don't want anyone knowing, I won't tell a soul.”

Confidentiality was part of his job description so it was a promise he would keep. Yet there was a thick sinking feeling in his chest. No matter how careful Moonkit was sooner or later she would take a tumble in training or step on a thorn in patrol or have her pelt torn up in battle. When that day came it would no longer matter how closely he kept the secret. Sooner or later cats would discover the truth.

He forced a purr and nodded at Moonkit once more. “Well, off you go.”

Moonkit nodded her head vigorously. "I'll come back tomorrow for some more horsetail," she added, about ready to leave when she ran right into Burnkit. "There you are!" The ginger kit yelped. "What took you so long?" "Just finishing things up with Laurelheart," Moonkit purred, leaping after Burnkit and racing from the den. Burnkit leaped for a ball of moss she found, her joyous laughter contagious. However, Moonkit couldn't join in with the laughing, her thought turned inward and grim, consumed with the knowledge that she was different; consumed with the thought that if Burnkit ever found out she wouldn't like Moonkit anymore, might treat her differently.