mistletoekit
sing so sweetly
★ All told, there are several by-products and consequences to being her parents' child. Had the kitten more knowledge, she might be able to draw a clear line between the two words, attribute a distinction of meaning to signify that by-products simply happened and consequences were manufactured, but she is a child and unlikely to put in the effort unless directly asked in any case. A consequence was her exposure to herbs. Menial tasks pertaining to leaves, stems, and seeds that could be entrusted to small, clumsy paws often fell into them. A by-product was her approach to this work: the tasks had been assigned to her with a firm yet quiet confidence until she performed them without prompting, equally quiet, equally confident. Cicadabuzz had asked Mistletoekit to do something - of course it would be done.
Yet, there was a nagging feeling in her chest, wriggling and squirming until it thrashed and writhed. She did not want to complete the tasks. Mistletoekit was too young to attribute it to any particular reason, be it herbs taking up too much of her parent's attention, a desire to test boundaries, or perhaps a simple boredom with working, but she did not need to know the driving force behind an emotion to feel it. The kitten, teetering on the cusp of two moons and all the more certain and foolish for it, felt defiant.
Her paws stilled on the herb she had been plucking. Her eyes, which have steadily been developing from a kittish blue to a verdure green, sought out her parent. Her lips pursed in contemplation of words, then parted to let them past. "I don't want to."
Yet, there was a nagging feeling in her chest, wriggling and squirming until it thrashed and writhed. She did not want to complete the tasks. Mistletoekit was too young to attribute it to any particular reason, be it herbs taking up too much of her parent's attention, a desire to test boundaries, or perhaps a simple boredom with working, but she did not need to know the driving force behind an emotion to feel it. The kitten, teetering on the cusp of two moons and all the more certain and foolish for it, felt defiant.
Her paws stilled on the herb she had been plucking. Her eyes, which have steadily been developing from a kittish blue to a verdure green, sought out her parent. Her lips pursed in contemplation of words, then parted to let them past. "I don't want to."