pafp SLEEP, LITTLE DARLINGS // naming

[nightingalecry]

[ please wait for @BRIGHTSHINE! and @WOLFSONG ]
[ kitten tag list @whitekit @Grasskit @MIDNIGHTKIT @DEATHKIT @Witherkit @Frightkit ]

"So... what will you name them?"

Nightingalecry's ear twitches, at first dismissing the question. It feels entirely too odd - first she's mourning the loss of her love, and then three tiny bodies are being heaved into the same nest as her own. They're so similar in size, and thus must be the same age... She can't help but wonder if StarClan has watched her suffer, if her mother is watching her struggle, and has decided to give her more bouts of love to cradle and foster. Her heart bleeds a river of its own creation, but she tucks herself around the new kittens (her new kittens,) and stutters out a soft, "I... don't know."

Does she know what Harbingermoon would've named them? No - she was frightened by the tom, even when she spent nights and days on the same patrols. She hadn't even named her own litter. Ebonylight gave her options and she followed suit, even when she had hoped to use one of her own. Her tail twitches over the dark body of one, and she plucks a name out of the air, "Whitekit, maybe. For the fluffy snow-fur on their cheeks." She pauses, her gaze flitting over the other two, and suddenly the anxiety washes over her.

"Would you two - um," she turns to the others still busying themselves around the den, either ensuring the health of the kittens or the integrity of the nursery, "Do you have any ideas?"​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── Wolfsong is glad that, despite their turbulent arrival, the kits are in relatively good health. As for how they will feel about their parentage and abandonment later, he cannot say, but for now, they are safe and sound and have full lives ahead of them.

He has always had a fond spot for children even before he and Sunstride welcomed their own. While a warrior's role is much more natural to him than that of a healer, he nonetheless appreciates that it allows him time with kits. He misses when his children were younger, and he smiles fondly at the little bundles of fur before starting slightly when Nightingalecry...asks him to name them? He thought she might handle that responsibility entirely alone, though he recalls that naming his own kits had been overwhelming even with Sunstride's input. It certainly doesn't help that the cats instrumental to the kits' existence aren't here.

Wolfsong's one-eyed stare roams over the kits, contemplative. Perhaps a name for the moors. They will be a warrior of WindClan one day, and after their parents forsake these lands for Sootstar, let the kits know a purer loyalty. He pauses over a sandy kitten, a bit small, his fur peculiarly rough and paws comically broad. A thoughtful hum resonates in his chest. "Grasskit," he suggests, or possibly declares. "Abandoned in the moorland grass, but at home in it all the same, and loyal to those who share it."
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 41 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTRIDE (07/05/2023). BIOGRAPHY, PINTEREST, & PLAYLIST.

medicinal expertise med. part ii med. part iii med. part iv

• — ★★★☆☆ WOUNDS: You're (mostly) in safe paws. You'll know if he's less experienced if he asks for your permission to try a treatment. No wound can scare him away from knowledge.
  — ★★★☆☆ INFECTION: He can prevent most infections. If you feel feverish, let him know; he'll hum thoughtfully over herbs and sniff your wound before saying, "With your blessing..."
• — ★☆☆☆☆ ACHES & PAINS: If you complain to him of pain, he'll ask where. If it's a headache, you'll likely feel a bit better. For anything else, "Try this, if you'd like, and tell me how you feel."
  — ★☆☆☆☆ BROKEN BONES: At best. he can ask you to remain lying down in the den. He may try to distract you with conversation while he considers what herb to feed you.
• — ★★★★★ TRAVELING HERBS: Going somewhere? No worries; Wolfsong knows just what you need to stay hale and healthy during your journey. The rest is up to you.
  — ★★★☆☆ KITTING: Thanks to Starlingheart and his own pregnancy, he's better prepared for the arrival of kits, but any complications will need a little faith and a lot of luck.
• — ★☆☆☆☆ POISONS: It's best if you avoid eating anything unfamiliar to you— it's probably just as unfamiliar to Wolfsong. The best he can do is offer you yarrow and sit with you.
  — ★★☆☆☆ ILLNESS: If it's white or greencough, you'll likely recover. Otherwise, prepare for odd concoctions and the usual request that you consent to a little trial-and-error.

​

 

[BRIGHTSHINE!]

Brightshine hums a lighthearted song as she makes her way around the burrow. Her small paws tuck bits of heather into the spots where rootless dirt grows thin. She wouldn't want the den crumbling and letting in a draft, after all! Plus, it's a pretty great excuse to be around the little ones! Every so often, she throws cheery glances towards the tiny bundles of fur, and once or twice she gives them a silly face. This is such a fun age! She misses when her own children were this small.

She's working some heather into a particularly high spot in the den when Nightingalecry names one of the kits. She turns, ears pricked, at the sound of it. "That's a great name!" She chirps happily, clearly approving. She abandons her task and makes her way over, sitting perhaps a little too close, but Brightshine has never been one to know personal space. She leans in close, perking up when the queen asks herself and Wolfsong for help naming the kits. Grasskit, the medicine cat suggests, and the calico beams at him. "That's great, too! You guys are too good at this," She sings, giving them both a cheeky wink.

But oh, she has to help, too! Brightshine leans in close, emerald eyes falling on a little she-kit with a dark pelt and ivory markings wrapping her up. For a moment, she has to force herself to block out the memory of Harbingermoon's blood, hot around her claws - the memory of orphaning the little one. Guilt eats away at her, and she thinks that perhaps the least she could do is allow a bit of her mother to live on in her. "How about Midnightkit for this one?" She pipes up, gesturing with her nose towards the little tabby she-kit.​

 

[slateheart]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ A black-furred figure dipped into the dim light of the nursery, carrying a mouse in his jaw. Coming fresh from the recent hunting patrol, he felt compelled to bring it to the nursery, and make use of his paws after days of sitting dormant around camp. Slatetooth weaves around Brightshine and Wolfsong, careful to keep to the walls and avoid crowding the den as he gives each cat a respectful dip of his head, before reaching the grey molly and dropping the mouse at her feet.

Six kits. He can't imagine the responsibility and strain that comes with nursing such a big clutch, but the thoughtfulness in Nightingalecry's gaze as she ponders their names is enough to reassure him. Nevertheless, he is sure she must be hungry, and hopes the food will be welcomed as he nudges it towards her with an outstretched paw.

"Whitekit, Grasskit, and Midnightkit," Slatetooth echoed in a mumble as his gaze travels across each young kitten. "I like them." He wouldn't ever think to wonder if Harbringermoon would have liked these names, or what names they would have chosen to replace them. He didn't know the tom, and felt no compassion for him after all they've done under Sootstar's watchful gaze. Though, some part of him is disappointed that they didn't live to see their children safe and sound, even after he chased them out of WindClan's territory that day.

Slatetooth abruptly shakes away the thought. Now is no time for reminiscing and guilt; it's a time for joy, especially for the Clan's newest arrivals, and Nightingalecry herself. He wears a small uncertainly cheerful smile as he speaks again - he was here to check on Harbringermoon's kits, but it would be unfair not to check on the queen herself. "Are you holding up well, Nightingalecry?" he asks, hoping his intrusion isn't unwelcome. The prey itself was an offering of friendliness; the continuation of his presence in the den and conversation may have been too much. He would find out.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── I SEND HIM A SMILE ⋅❁⋅ HE TELLS ME LOOK DOWN ──┐‎

• 

• SLATETOOTH ✩ he/him, moor-runner of windclan, 19 moons.
  ⭃ a short-furred black tom with low white markings and green eyes.
  ⭃ son of LYNXTOOTH xx ADELAIDE // brother to GRAVELSNAP, ASHPAW
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by ixora ↛ @.ixora on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

HE COULD NOT BREAK SURFACE TENSION
HE LOOKED IN THE WRONG PLACE FOR REDEMPTION ​

---

periwinklebreeze ❀ 18 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ he/they ❀ windclan moor runner​

---

" Those are g-good names. St-strong, " he agrees, trailing after slattooth to come sit beside his sister. He doesn't ask questions, doesn't press - slatetooth is already asking her what he wants to know Instead, blue eyes focus on the bundles of fur curled into her side with a quiet hum. " I'm g-g-glad we f-found them in time, " he can't imagine what would've happened to them had they been left alone for much longer. Carried off by some predator, or worse - starved to death without a queen to nurse them. Head shakes - no matter who's kits they had been, who they once called their parents, no child deserved to die like that. It was just too cruel.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

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D O N ' T ━ L O O K ━ A T ━ M E ━ W I T H ━ T H O S E ━ E Y E S

---

 

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡Frightkit's little face scrunches up as she's pulled from her slumber by movement, shoving, and voices. Mewls fill her barely opened ears, but they're unfamiliar to the ones she's grown with for two unconscious moons. Wiggling about, she lets out her own little squeaks, pushing strength into her heavy limbs to lightly paw and brush at the invaders to her little home. But when her paw touches fur, she feels herself placated. Fur, like her siblings, soft and warm like her mothers. She doesn't understand the names that they're given - Whitekit, Grasskit, Midnightkit - or how they're given with more love and thought than Frightkit's own christening, but she does understand, in the simplest of ways a barely aware newborn can be, that the murmurs and mewls are now part of this. The nest, her mother's love, their little family.
So, dutiful new sister that she is, she presses her nose into her new sibling's fur and resumes sleeping.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 1/9/23

• 
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 2 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit and Witherkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

 

[Grasspaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ The newly named Grasskit finds himself tucked in to a pile of warm bodies. He'd used up most of his energy by now, and gratefully melted into the warmth and comfort. Man, being alive was tiring. He's not the biggest concern of his siblings, though. He squeaked quietly, feeling another nose push into his fur. He could get used to this. He pushed the tiniest bit closer to Nightingalecry's stomach, latching on to feed with what little umph he could put into the action.

✧ ° . ✶ . ° ✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  NAME — HE/HIM ･ 1 MOONS ･ KIT & WINDCLAN ･ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL

  Small fawn tabby with pale green eyes.
  "speak" thoughts action
  — peaceful, healing, and minor injury powerplay allowed

 

[Midnightpaw]

The ebony and white bundle of fur that was now named Midnightkit slept soundly in the huddle of small bodies as the warriors spoke softly above them. She did not stir as they discussed what best to call the orphaned trio, nor did she understand the significance of the moment when Brightshine finally presented her with an identity. From this moment on, for the rest of her days, she would only know herself as Midnight. One day, when she did understand the weight it carried, she would be proud to bear it.