camp I’LL TAKE YOU ANYWHERE —⟢ STRANGE TOY

[BILBERRYPAW]

When Bilberrykit first sees it, his immediate thought is that it is far too pretty to be eaten.

It is an almost perfectly round bird with brown feathers and a ruddy underbelly. It looks delicate and perfect and still, perched atop the freshkill pile. Bilberrykit knows it is dead—freshkill only goes on the freshkill pile if it's dead. Otherwise it would go on some other pile, for things that are still alive. Bilberrykit knows this: dead things like birds and mice and rabbits don't twitch their noses or flap their wings or play with things anymore. The bird on top of the freshkill pile (round, brown, ruddy) will not play with Bilberrykit.

Still, still, maybe Bilberrykit can play with it.

Not a single warrior stops Bilberrykit from collecting the bird—his bird—from its place in the freshkill pile. Perhaps they spare a thought to his burgeoning independence: the brave little kit, getting himself his own meal for the first time. Perhaps they don't notice him, head tipped back as he trots with his prize to prevent it from dragging in the sand. Perhaps, as they warriors and the queens and the apprentices go about their busy days, they see Bilberrykit and his bird, and they think nothing at all. There is hardly anything noteworthy about a kitten with a bird, after all.

Only after an appropriate amount of unexceptional flouncing does Bilberrykit drop to his side like a wind felled tree, the bird still in his teeth. He shakes it as he imagines one of the warriors must have shaken it and feels a giddy excitement for when he might become a warrior and be allowed to shake a real, living and flapping bird for himself.​

on mobile! | windclan kit | black and white harlequin | three moons | tags​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──ᨒ↟↟ᨒ↟ᨒ↟↟ᨒ── It should not be difficult to look upon WindClan's kittens. They are their own, unique creatures; no two are alike, and certainly, none of them resemble Bearflight, who was nearly identical to Sunstar. And yet he sees them play, sees them fuss about and unbidden memories of his son mire his mind. It does not seem to matter to his grief that Bearflight was not a kit when he died; it does not know logic, does not acknowledge reason, and Wolfsong has suffered for its mulishness, though he has certainly tried to restrain it from coloring his interactions with WindClan.

It is no easy feat, to be sure, and when he spies Bilberrykit toying with a dead bird, shaking it between his teeth, he can think only of how a young Bearkit would have been distressed by such a sight. He swallows hard and inhales deeply. His eye prickles, but he ignores it. "Why shake your catch so vigorously, Bilberrykit? Such a bird is meant to be pounced on and bitten swiftly."
​

WOLFSONG of WINDCLAN FORMER ROGUE TURNED MEDICINE CAT. 42 MOONS, HE/HIM, NPC X NPC. MATES WITH SUNSTAR (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.

​

 

[SUNNVAR]

Had he been raised in this clan, Sunstar might abhor the cruelty with which Bilberry toys with his catch. It is a waste of prey, they might say — each life deserved respect. Yet respect did not necessitate rotting silently, or existing solely for consumption. Respect was a lesson taught and learned; this time, how to handle their prey. He remembers, briefly, bringing his catch to his kittens for their first taste. How carefully he had fed them to give them their strength. To ensure that he was worthy of the fatherhood gifted upon him. A ridiculous notion. Now that he has the time to look back upon himself, he berates what he thought would prepare him. He had cared for them, yes, but how was he to learn about the worst to come? How could he understand the great wall of loss before him?

Wolfsong's grief took the form of a beast that he may slay or urge along. Mulish, yes, but breathing. Sunstar's is a great wall that he cannot surpass. All the more an insult with the wound he carries. And all he may do is sit in its grand shadow and ignore it as best he can. Without trying to climb it, he does not need to fail. Even if it colors each of his interactions a grimy shade of grey, he persists. His eyes do not quite touch Wolfsong's. "Ah, you will need to watch for its wings as well, little one. Hold on too long–" The leader moves as if to demonstrate, reaching out for the bird with one paw before he remembers that there is no other to bear his weight, and catches himself with a puff of startled breath. "Hold on too long, and it may take your breath away with how it smacks."

⋆ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄  ╱╱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝗕𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 〚 05.16.2024 〛 𖤓ᨒ

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTAR. WINDCLAN LEADER. ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– AMAB HE - HIM - HIS ╱╱ 4+ YEARS OLD.

  NPC x NPC,. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO ONE LITTER WITH HIM. MENTORING NOBODY.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS EYES

• "speech"

​

 

[gracklestep]

˚₊⋅───────── /ᐠ - ˕ -マ ─────────⋅ ˚₊

It is not entirely unusual to see the older kits go about finding their independence in the form of motherly neglect (or maybe their mothers are simply tired of dealing with them). Bilberrykit's adventure to the fresh-kill pile with greedy sunrise eyes is nothing out of the ordinary... and Gracklestep does not dare to interrupt from where he looms like a shadow at the kit's side, trying to pick his own meal with mild regard for the scrap that stands halfway in his way. The bird he lunges for is nothing incredibly impressive... which should be expected of one so small, their appetites are not quite the depth of a warrior sent to hunt and fight and expend real energy.

And just as quickly as he came, the dappled boy saunters off with catch held proudly between his teeth as if caught by his own tooth and claw. The wiry tom lifts a brow in question but ultimately, doesn't pester the young one, content to grab his own food and sit down in the warmth of the sun. It soaks into dark fur with a sort of hunger that reminds him of the flames that overtaken them not that long ago- it forces a shudder down his spine and his appetite is nearly instantly soured to remember the hot breath of a dog at his heels.

Bilberrykit is suddenly on the ground and thrashing around wildly... approached very quickly by both Wolfsong and Sunstar who look as haggard as if they'd been drug across the entire territory and back. They needed a break... and he is not so certain interacting with tiny ones after the loss of their son is the best use of their time. Who is he to judge grief though? Walking over with his meal forgotten, he watches as Sunstar offers quick explanation on the very real dangers of playing with ones food.

"Prey has a nasty habit of trying to defend itself," he adds, probably unhelpfully, "Plenty of arrogant warriors that have lost eyes to what they thought was helpless food." Tactless in the face of children, as ever, the description of such potential damage is admittedly not very age-appropriate... probably.​

 

[kitecall.]

speaking color is #BBE8EF​

➾ KITEPAW. AND HOW CAN WE WIN WHEN FOOLS CAN BE KINGS? † ☼
𖤓 ✟ —— the presence of bilberrykit making his way to the freshkill pile hardly strikes the attention of kitepaw who tends keenly to his pelt. his teeth picks at the dirt and the dead strands of grass that wedges its way between his toes, and his tongue reaches for that which weaves itself within his tail. it is when he does this that the corner of his eyes fall upon the child shaking his catch and toying with it as it was… well, a toy. now, he knows that playing with your pray is an incredibly childish thing to do—who hasn't played pretend at some point? if anything, kitepaw would encourage the act of pretend play. confidence, problem solving… all wonderful for the upbringing of a child, whether or not they were aware of this beyond having fun.

however, as he see's billberrykit play, kitepaw cannot unhear the scolding words of his mother. "what a mess you've made of your food, aught you be ashamed. our warriors hunt and stay hungry for you to eat your fill, and this is how you treat your prey?" for the long moons of leaf-bare did the prey grow thin and the bellies grow empty. kitekit had no intentions that day to eat the field mouse at his paws, muddy and cold from the rain and snow, but eat it he had. ever last filthy and insufferable bite. he may not have realized it in the moment, a young child wanting to have fun, but he agrees now with his mother. although the moons today were warm with the coming of the green-leaf sun and kitepaw would not normally worry too harshly about one single bird, the moors were burnt, slowly regrowing it's cover. prey was not running as it should. to him, every last piece mattered more than entertainment for a child. for a moment, kitepaw considers saying something to bilberrykit, but feels content that there is no need as wolfsong and sunstar himself approach. and so, kitepaw returns to his task.

his tongue runs through his fur and his teeth gently chewe through a small knot in his tail. now a minute or two passes before the apprentice looks back up at the three of them, and kitepaw cannot portray enough confusion. were they encouraging the child? kitepaw knows that wolfsong and sunstar were going through unimaginable grief, but he cannot help the pricking of his fur. and so, he ceases his grooming and approaches the small group that was forming further… and far more frustrating with the arrival of gracklestep and his own words of advice. "is it not a concern that prey is running scare since the fire?" kitepaw realizes after the words already left his mouth that his wording was rather accusing. he could not fathom the thought of them—sunstar himself after everything he has gone though just recently—not worrying for the bellies of windclan… but he means what he said all the same. he could not shake nor make sense of encouraging a kit to waste their food.

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‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── ooc ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ info ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• ooc
  

• 

• KITEPAW ✩ he/him, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 7.5 moons old
  ⭃ average sized tomcat with light cream tabby markings. he has a white chest and half face. his fur is a medium length and he has large whiskers. his eyes are a light blue.
  ⭃ highly religious, stubborn and hard-working, kindhearted and charismatic, honest, diligent, foolish and impulsive when frustrated, will speak out when something feels unjust.
  ⭃ open to minor and minor powerplay / / underline and tag when attacking ⇌ see his bio here
  ⭃ penned by @DOFFERZ! ⇌ doffloppa on discord, feel free to dm for plots. template credit to vayle.
  
  
  

​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS ​

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 22 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan queen ​

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" Bilberrykit, " comes the expected call, as soon as the black and white queen catches sight of his son. Though his voice is soft-spoken as ever, there is an edge to it - that same harsh warning that had lilted his words when he'd bundled them all up and off to riverclan to escape the fire. He is upset - and rightfully so.

He strides over on long legs, nimble in spite of his fragile frame. While Wolfsong and Sunstar don't seem particularly bothered by the sight, Periwinklebreeze certainly is - for all that he has broken a few rules himself, he's always taken each and every bit of the warrior code seriously, including the commandment that said all prey was to be food not toys. Growing up, he might've done something similar to his son - or perhaps not, actually, he'd always been a timid thing with far more care for life even if he'd never strayed so far as to be queasy from the death of prey as Snailstride once had. But he'd stood by often enough, watched as other clanmates took claw and tooth to prey in order to vent their frustrations, or practice moves that really ought not to be used upon anything or anyone. But that was before. This was now.

" Prey is m-meant to be eaten - it is n-not a t-toy, " he warns gently, paw coming down heavily upon the round bird, hoping to keep it from being jerked around any further. The leader and medicine cat give his son good advice, but there are far better things to practice hunting upon then already killed prey - Kitepaw is correct in that there is far to little of it, even if they're not exactly starving. He'd spent his own childhood chasing after leaves and feathers, aided even by Sootstar herself. No, he'd not let Bilberrykit off this time, much as he loved his child - the stars we're angry enough with his family, and for all that his son did not share their bloodline he cannot help the fear that sinks its claws to him at the thought he might break the code and bring starclans vengeful eye upon his patchwork form.

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

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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​

Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​

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[BILBERRYPAW]

Wolfsong's voice pulls Bilberrykit from his game, if only for a moment. He pauses, bird still dangling heavy in his mouth and head tipped in quiet thought. He explains hunting to Bilberrykit—how one might properly hunt this kind of bird (round, mottled, ruddy—Bilberrykit has never seen a prettier bird!) and Bilberrykit listens. He considers reminding Wolfsong that it's just a game; he hadn't actually hunted this bird, and he doesn't need to worry about killing it right.

Rather than do that in so many words, he remains in stillness for three heartbeats after Wolfsong has finished speaking, and then resumes shaking the bird.

It isn't until Sunstar and Gracklestep chime in with their own warnings that Bilberrykit starts to question the knowledge of the cats about him. He lets the bird drop from his teeth and hates to see it on the ground, but this is important to explain. "It's okay if you didn't know this already, but this bird was dead when I found it." He explains it gently—as so many have gently explained things to him, and then gestures towards the freshkill pile with his nose, "It was over there, but I like it so I grabbed it and now its mine!" Excitement creeps back in, spurred on by the reminder that its his bird.

He makes a giddy sound before continuing, "But then after that I'll be a warrior and I'll catch prey like this and I'll remember that you said that and I—" A break, only to inhale, "—I'll be such a good hunter! But I don't need to know this now because this one's wings don't flap anymore."

It isn't until Kitepaw and Periwinklebreeze arrive with new information that Bilberrykit sobers. He goes to Periwinklebreeze with a frown and leans against his side, watching the bird where he had left it. "If it's not a toy why does it have feathers on it? And..." He makes a valiant effort to not sound disappointed. He really thought it seemed like a toy, "Someone could still eat it. I only shook it a little bit." Laying there now, it really seems like a toy, "Maybe it can be mine for a little bit longer?"​

windclan kit | black and white harlequin | three moons | tags​

 

[SUNNVAR]

The smallest glimmer of mischief and mirth fades slowly, peacefully, from the leader's face. Kitepaw and Periwinklebreeze speak up against this usage of their prey, and Sunstar briefly understands their concern. No longer is his mind in the mountains, where its purpose was in a lesson. This is StarClan's decree, and their laws. Even if it was Sootstar's she had put forward. The burnished tom sinks to an uncomfortable crouch, still not yet certain how to navigate the stump which aches when he rests upon it wrong. "Ah, but it is better for you to learn and practice it now than hear it the first time as a bird comes for your nose." Were he not concerned with balance, he would reach out to prod at the young kit's snout. (A bitter thought flutters across his mind, asking if he could ever do such a thing again. Would this hinder him for all the time stretched before him?)

"Are you old enough to eat prey yourself?" As if he had not raised his own litter. As if the thought does not spear him through with mourning. His voice is innocent and light even as the tether of grief him and Wolfsong share twangs and reverberates. "If you are to catch and claim your prey, you should be the one to eat it." That, too, had been a lesson of his youth. Whatever he did, he would rest upon the aftermath. The consequences of his actions were his own to bear: Bilberrykit may play, but so too must he eat. "I do not worry for our prey," he tells Kitepaw directly, glancing only briefly to the apprentice, "when Bilberrykit is responsible for his own."

⋆ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄  ╱╱ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝗕𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 〚 05.16.2024 〛 𖤓ᨒ

• OOC. —
• 

  SUNSTAR. WINDCLAN LEADER. ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
  ——– AMAB HE - HIM - HIS ╱╱ 4+ YEARS OLD.

  NPC x NPC,. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO ONE LITTER WITH HIM. MENTORING NOBODY.
  
  TH ╱╱ A LARGE, SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS EYES

• "speech"

​