pafp πˆ 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 ππŽπ“ 𝗕𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 β•± ππ”π„π’π“πˆπŽππ’

Stretched out before his den, watching the kits play and the apprentices return from their training, this day feels far more normal than most any WindClan has experienced in moons. He must say that often– in looking back, he sees only the storms. These moments of calm so rarely remain. They fall to pieces. Their world goes with it. But when they are here. . . it is best that they bask. Celebrate. The warm heather-scented breeze that pulls through their pelts and the glow of the sun against their fur are things he does not file to memory, but allows to course over him and through him. Here and gone. All the more worthwhile for its fleeting stop on its great journey. That is what he cares for. Each brief stop along the endless path. The life he would look back on once the ribbon of fate frayed to ending.

Vulturekit does not play with the others in this moment. And Sunstar, with the thought of fate weighing deeply upon his mind, calls out. "Vulturekit. Come closer, won't you?" A curling of his paw beckons the kitten to a particular spot before him. While he has no food or toy to offer as offering for cooperation, he assumes that so dutiful a young cat will surely follow. "I have been curious since your return. Your escape from DuskClan– how did it come to be? If Bluefrost found you wandering, I assume that you first had to lose their attention."
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  • ooc: please wait for @Vulturekit. !!
  • β†Ÿ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.  ╱  AMAB  HE - HIM - HIS.  LEADER OF WINDCLAN.  β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€†β‹†β€„β€„β‹†Μ΄ΜŒΝ›Ν–Μ»β€†β‹†Μ΅ΜΜΏΝƒΜΝΜΌΝˆ ⋆̢̬́̀
    ————  a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has a lot to prove.

    82190121_9CSsSGfEk2LJ5dF.png
    a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or un-windclan build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
 

Λ–βΊβ€§β‚Š β˜½β—―β˜Ύ β‚Šβ€§βΊΛ– γ€€Normalcy is a frayed thing for Vulturekit. There has been too much fear in such a short life for the kit to so easily settle back into calm. He steals it when he can, in quiet moments tucked into his dad's fur, but there is a shaky fear that pervades everything. Peace is a thing he will have to claw back with shaking claws, a bird flown the nest too soon. His own wings feel clipped.

The leader's call brings a bloom of cold throughout his chest. Sitting by his lonesome, he has no excuse to avoid the three-legged tom, and so he skulks over, head low. A curling paw sentences him to scrutiny, cold eyes like pinpricks of ice piercing through the spines of his pelt. "Ah - um." He stutters, flicks his gaze to and fro. Sunstar asks after his escape, and the young tom swallows nervously. Has he seen through them? Does he know? (Will he rip them apart as he did Sootstar, for lying?)

Breathe. Shaky, in and out. "I..." He doesn't want to lie to the leader's face. He can't. "It was early, and, uh, d-d-dark, so..." The words peter out. He wants more. Frosted seaglass eyes wait with a wolf's patience, hungry for some spun tale to judge. "I went out tuh... to find a feather -" Why? He would have no reason to without Thriftfeather. A quick course correction, a clumsy explanation. "Um. So I c-could have something... soft, and - Nnn-no one saw me." No one saw them. Him and his rescuer, sneaking out. She was waiting for them, and he still doesn't quite understand why. "So I... ran off. That's... um, th-that's all." None of it is quite untrue, and he tries to be satisfied with that, despite the twisting fear in his gut. Sunstar won't stop looking at him, and that alone is all too much attention.


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    "SPEECH"
  • VULTUREKIT ⛧ he / they, kit of windclan, five moons.
    β­ƒ a spiky-furred dark tabby with amber eyes.
    β­ƒ skittish and dour, with little time for typical kit games.
    β­ƒ micheal x npc, adopted by periwinklebreeze. sibling to dustkit and bilberrykit.
    β­ƒ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    β­ƒ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
Sunstar dwells in the sunlight for life for him is settling into monotony - something not all of them can claim, but certainly an odd thing to wish for nonetheless. For the sameness of the days that pass mean that there is rarely trouble, rarely pain. The sun peaks through thin, wispy clouds and cats hunt on the regrowing moors. Cottonsprig cannot help but begrudge the casual lounging that's come of her leader, however for no fault of his. It's her actions that keep her moving, keep her stomach twisting with upset even.

He beckons a kitten over - Vulturekit - in a way she's seen dozens of times before. Their leader has always been the sort to spin tales and request stories of his Clanmates. She'd been the victim, once or twice, and so watching the dark tabby walk dutifully over, she feels no pity. There is a twinge of discomfort, fearing just what Vulturekit had to endure while lost to DuskClan. But it seemed that he hadn't been through much - just wanted a feather to hold and ran as soon as he could.

"Quite good tracking for someone so young," Cottonsprig notes, briefly pausing beside the tomkit and Sunstar. "To make it even half-way back to WindClan only by moonlight... D'you think he's small enough to be a tunneler, Sunstar?" she shifts the conversation slightly, sizing herself up to the still-growing child with meager curiosity.​
 

One has to wonder whether Vulturekit β€” young and innocent and shy Vulturekit β€” finds normalcy in being called forth by the leader himself. Sunstar seems as much at peace as he can nowadays; no furrowed brows, no tuft of fur standing on end. It is a sight that brings Dimmingsun some resemblance of comfort, but... surely, the so-easily startled Vulturekit will think this is a curse too, even if Sunstar is known for his love of spending time with the Clans' young.

Dimmingsun inches ever-closer to the pair, joined by Cottonsprig at the flank. The mention of DuskClan immediately whips his tail skyward like it's being moved by a strong gust of wind... though it is merely a gut reaction to their enemies.

"Thank StarClan they are so bad at keeping prisoners," Dimmingsun comments. Dry, but directed at Vulturekit's captors only. Who knows what they would have done with him if that fateful night hadn't occurred the way it did. "And thank the stars you were so brave, too." The thought of a lonesome kit out on the moors... it is unsettling, even under the cover of night. There are a variety of predators still active after the sun has set.

Cottonsprig's wonder about his future is an obvious one. "Dark enough for it too. He would blend in so well with the shadows." Though Dimmingsun knows future rank is nobody choice's β€” Sunstar might make the final call, but that is only a result of physicality β€”, he wants to ask Vulturekit anyway, "Which one do you hope to be?"