Lost and Found (short story)
“For the record, I didn’t steal them.”
Fungichomp couldn’t help but be skeptical of this, but he didn’t dare voice the concerns.
It was never a good day when Pumpkinpatch stopped by to visit.
The dark tom was snappish at best, abrasive at worse, and most kits ran and hid when he was around.
Well, apparently not all of them.
Two little balls of chocolate-tortoiseshell fluff huddled next to Punkin, one chirping curiously and the other batting at her sister’s limp tail.
“Hell no, I don’t swing that way.”
“I was going to ask if they were dark kits or not.”
“Oh.” Punkin looked down at the little bundles, his callousness melting away like spring frost as he cooed and coerced the tiny kits to look up.
“There we go, nice and easy sweetie…” Punkin groomed the mobile kit and purred. “Oh there’s an eye! Thank you little one! That makes my job so much easier! Yes it does!”
He turned to Fungichomp with narrowed eyes.
“Yep, they’re dark kits. I’d say they were twins, but their markings are different.”
Fungichomp carefully resisted the urge to suggest that Punkin might make a good caregiver.
Historically, his suggestions that Punkin might be good at anything had not been well received.
Punkin scooped up the sluggish kit carefully, transferring her to a moss nest, and propping her up so breathing would be easier.
“She’ll need intensive caretaking. Probably for life.” Punkin grumbled as he settled down beside the nest. “I recommend frequent checking for nest sores, and, if you can manage it, at least a little work on getting her mobile per day.” He dangled his tail over the nest, cooing more encouragement as the less mobile kit batted at it.
The dark tom paused, pulling the mobile kit close to his chest protectively.
“I’m calling this one Hiddenkit, because she was harder to find than her sister.”
Fungichomp dangled his own tail in front of Hiddenkit, stifling a yelp when tiny claws dug into his tail.
“She’s a little bruiser! What about her sister?”
Punkin shrugged. “I’ll let you decide that.”
“In that case, her new name is Pumpkinkit.”
Fungichomp could almost feel the tips of his whiskers withering at the look this earned him, but he didn’t budge.
He leaned over and risked a few quick licks to Punkin’s scruffy fur.
“They owe you their life, whether you like it or not.
“That doesn’t mean you have to name her after me!”
