Little bits of writing!

again, I know, but I'm low key in love with these cats! this is before the previous one, keep in mind, but mostly about my girl saltspray! enjoy! 

                                                                     ~~~

Saltspray cracks an eye open, blinking multiple times, before rising carefully out of a carefully woven moss nest. Soft sunlight filters through the tightly pressed roots of the warrior's den, shining directly into sensitive eyes. The she-cat blinks.

Beside her, Batslink stirs in his own mossy nest. He opens one red-tinted brown eye, blinking it. They hold an apparent question.

"Go back to sleep," Saltspray coos gently, flicking her tail at the tom. He doesn't protest, only murmuring a sleepy 'goodbye' and shuffling deeper into his nest.

Saltspray still can't believe she is a warrior as she steps carefully over the body of a snoring Eelstrike. How has she come this far? Just moons ago she'd slipped into the moonlight of the mangroves and locked eyes with Gullthroat, Batslink bristling at her side.

"Please help us."

Now they are fleshed out warriors, with Toadkit- or now Toadpaw, as strange as it sounds to the four new warriors- taking their old den. Saltspray is strange too, and all of the clan sometimes catch themself calling her 'Saltpaw.'

Saltspray slinks from her den, ducking out and under the roots, and emerging into the idle camp.

Gullthroat resides outside of the nursery, grooming his fur, as Waxfang slowly leads her kits from the den. The five bouncing bundles kick their legs, grinning happily.

Beaverkit rolls a stone beneath her paws, mouth pulled into a gaping, happy, grin. Otterkit is small, fur shining golden. Her eyes are huge, like Gullthroat's, her ears tiny dots on the top of her head. She looks somewhat unsure, glancing quickly around.

Beakkit flaunts his large, plumed tail, pointing it to the sky. He giggles at his sister, Vulturekit, who makes a funny face. The light gray tom resembles his father, which, at the birth, made him more than happy. Being the only tom, too, was a shocker. Being the smallest was another.

Anolekit is Saltspray's personal favorite. She isn't supposed to have one, yes, but the kit is just like her. In attitude and skills alike. The little she-kit's fur is an orange-tinted cream color, her eyes a baby-blue and amber color. Her smile is charming, a miniscule smirk on her face.

Though the she-kit is easily the most docile looking of the quintet, she can never really watch her mouth.

Saltspray whisks her tail thoughtfully. There are no patrols out, not yet. It is too early. Early enough to play, to feel like a kit again? Saltspray grins.

Before she can stop herself, Saltspray's paws move over the land to glide over the thickly packed sand and mud. The five kits turn their heads, wide eyes resting on her rapidly approaching form. They grin and bounce out of line to greet her with smiles and head-butts. Saltspray feels like a clan leader.

"Saltspray!" Beaverkit mews excitedly, more or less flopping into the calico's forepaws. Vulturekit shoves the she-kit out of the way, glancing smugly in her direction. Beakkit bounces in place, eyes shining with happiness.

"Salt...Salt... You brought us that 'pwetty crab shell!"

Otterkit and Anolekit tumble to her tail, batting and snapping at it instantly, but Saltspray raises it above their heads. They both give up with a breathy huff.