no angst off with your head // 'attack'

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 07 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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There are a lot of kits running around windclan these days. A lot. Perhaps, even too many kits.

Periwinklepaw unfortunately does not realize this fact until it is to late.

Once again assigned to babysitting duty - kitsitting really (why is it called that anyways? it's not as though he actually sits on them?). It's one of his favorite tasks - being able to relax and be a child again, to forget all his troubles except keeping others out of trouble.

A striking figure, he's long and lean and lithe, a perfectly poised figure sitting a few tail lengths away from the nursery - the perfect vantage point for keeping an eye on his troublesome charges. At least - if he wasn't distracted. Instead, the boy is humming absently at something snarky Marmotkit is saying, a sitting duck - a perfect target for any adventurous kittens with too sharp claws and teeth and much to much energy for the sleepy boy even on his best days.

// open to kits and apprentices only for now, will open to everyone else in another reply (feel free to keep an eye out though!)

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[GRAVELSNAP]

The nursery is the only place inside WindClan’s camp that Gravelpaw actively avoids. They would rather walk straight into a badger’s den than into the nursery, full of cranky queens and pushy kits. Today, though, they’re bored beyond belief, and from across camp they spot a familiar figure. Talking to one of the kits, Periwinklepaw sits not too far from the nursery.

They can’t say that they like Periwinklepaw, but at least they are good with kits. Better that they deal with the pests than Gravelpaw themself. But there is no explanation for why their pristine white paws carry them over to where the dark-pointed feline rests near the nursery. "How do you put up with them?" They ask, settling onto their black-patched haunches beside the other apprentice. "They’re so loud," they mutter, night-black tail swishing lazily behind them. They fail to notice that they’ve also put themself into the path of any kit who wishes to pounce upon their tail.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerkit is a very fierce hunter. They know this to be true, yet certain cats have had the gall to doubt their capabilities. This will not do, clearly. Their strategic prowess is unmatched, and now they have the chance to prove it.

They've organized an ambush. Periwinklepaw has no idea what's coming for him.

They've gathered some of the younger kits for their scheme, and now they lie in wait, tail flick-flicking as they watch their prey. Periwinklepaw is the perfect target. He's often distracted, what with his constant sleepiness, and he's not likely to get angry at them for it, either, willing as he was to indulge Sunflowerkit when he kitsitted. He's not like a certain other apprentice, who... happens to come right over and sit next to Periwinklepaw.

Well. No matter. They're far too excited for this to back out now.

Sunflowerkit turns to the other kits and gives a serious nod, with all the proper gravitas of a leader summoning their ragtag army to war. They turn back, determination coloring their honeygold gaze, and crouch just like Wolfsong showed them. Then they take off, thin legs propelling them across the grass, tiny pawsteps soft as ever, ears perked for the sound of their fellow kits behind them. They give no battle-cry, as they are a more subtle fighter than that.

Instead, they merely launch themself towards Periwinklepaw once they're close enough. They leave the two tantalizing tails for for the younger, less experienced fighters, instead aiming to bowl Periwinklepaw over with a tackle from the side, so the littler kits can reach him better. They've gotten bigger now, being as close to apprenticehood as they are, so if anyone can manage it, it's them.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit is just as feisty as her siblings are, though her inherent curiosity tends to override it more often than not. She does occasionally worry on if she'll be enough, like her brothers and sisters... but that's a topic for another day. Today, Sunflowerkit's garnered her interest, as well as the interest of several others. Periwinklepaw is meant to be watching the lot of them, making sure they don't get into too much trouble, or something. Cottonkit's gotten used to Swiftstrike's watchful eyes, as well as both Sootstar and Weaselclaw's loving yet appraising eyes. She fears not any repercussion.

Gravelpaw settles in beside the seal point, and all Cottonkit sees is the bicolored feline that Adderkit picked a fight with. Her little grin grows just a bit wider as Sunflowerkit guides them forth, still. She may not have a vendetta against Gravelpaw herself (they're a picky apprentice, no different from some of the others, really) but it would definitely be bonus points if Adderkit tags along, too. Sunflowerkit launches into action and the grey furball follows suit. However instead of aiming for Periwinklepaw, she targets his apprentice companion.

Cottonkit dives forward, first towards Gravelpaw's tail - first, she aims to pounce on it, needle sharp claws unsheathed. If they then turn to face her and the army arriving, she would then try to mimic Sunflowerkit's motion and attempt to tackle the older tom, though given her much smaller size, she's doomed to fail.​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — It's been a while since Icepaw's been assigned kit-sitting duty; there's just so much to do in the tunnels, particularly during leafbare, and all paws are needed to catch as much prey as possible. As such, anything else that brings her to the nursery is a welcome opportunity, especially with Sootstar's kits to visit; today she comes with a mouthful of moss for extra nest lining. They offer the two apprentices a smile by way of greeting as they approach, nerves starting to flare up as usual — but they're determined to try joining in the pair's conversation, if only to listen if they can't manage to speak prolifically. Periwinklepaw's a vague acquaintance at best but seems nice, and Gravelpaw's a friendly face that she's been wanting to get to know better; stepping outside of her bubble has gradually been getting easier with time and practice. She can do this! "Hey guys— oh!" Alas, the sudden ambush cuts her off; the molly's brows shoot up in surprise as the kits suddenly spring forth and descend upon her peers. This seems to be a running theme with her and Gravelpaw's interactions these days.​

 

[MOORBLOSSOM]

The girl's namesake derives from her wild and freewheeling nature. There's no taming the vast tracts of land they inhabit, and likewise there's no taming her. Thus, the short-furred she-kit elects that she will not sit idly as her freedom is so cruelly robbed of. Periwinklepaw's tyrannical mitts have crushed the spirits of her and her cohorts for far too long. There they sit, stalking the kits' every move, ensuring that their underlings conform to their heinous will.

Sunflowerkit has the right idea. The only answer is violence, a righteous uprising worthy of StarClan's commendation. And, oh, it will be glorious.

Moorkit mobilises at the commander's beck and call, hot on her sister's heels as she springs into action. She sprints like the moor runner she is destined to become, each stride driven by her pursuit of justice. Cottonkit eventually deviates from the course and earmarks Gravelpaw for her aggression, which leaves the despotic Periwinklepaw to her and Sunflowerkit. May the stars protect her sister, and may her honour shine true.

She inhales deep as she draws within striking distance. Hind paws would lift from the ground for a final time, and the obsidian-pelted kit soars like the wind itself. If her attack meets its mark, Moorkit shall impact Periwinklepaw's collar with outstretched limbs, seeking to assist the attack leader in taking them down. If she fails, however... well, at least she will fail in spectacular fashion.​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 07 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Marmotkits job is made even easier as gravelpaw joins the conversation, and the girl takes the chance to sneak away unnoticed, giving a 'signal' to the others as best she can while she sits back and watches the choas that is about to ensue.

Perwinklepaw can say with certainty that he does, in fact, like Gravelpaw. he boy is one of the few who doesn't openly mock him or turn him away, and really that's all that matters to the friendly apprentice. A bright smile is on his face the moment the other joins him, tail curling around his paws and twitching nervously. "Th-th-they're the fut-ure of th-the clan," he says, words drawled out slowly and purposefully as he does his best to manage his stutter, though he can feel a strong tinge of pain in his jaw for his efforts. He's all to aware of his speech impediment these days, firepaw's mocking voice ringing around his mind every time he goes to speak. The corner of his lips twitch into something more resembling a smirk, clear blue gaze alight with amusement - "N-n-not as loud as d-d-dazzle-aw 'n f-f-f... firepaw" he says, one name said with fondness and the other a surprising amount of venom.

"Wh-what-" brings you here is what he's going to say, after all the other very clearly doesn't like kits, but before he can get the words out he's rather rudely interrupted. With what he is quite certain is the full force of a lionclan warrior taking down a fully grown deer, he feels not one but two small bodies slam into him. Despite being a moor runner, like most windclanners periwinkle is not the biggest or brawniest of toms - he's tall but slim, lithe and light and looing as though a good stiff breeze would certainly knock him right on over. He's not that far beyond his own kitten days, he's only on his seventh- almost eigth moon of life, still one more to go before he could become a warrior. And that's if he hadn't been behind on his training by a moon and a half, that's if he wasn't a rather kind-hearted creature who refused to do battle training - refused to fight his clanmates.

So it is to no ones surprise, not even his own, that the combined forces for Sunflowerkit and Moorkit is enough to send him toppling over and onto the ground with a rather loud 'whoomp' as his body impacts the dirt underpaw. His only consolation? Seeing cottonkit attempting to do the same to poor gravelpaw. A choked out wheeze of laughter slips past his lips, eyes blinking rapidly as his brain tries to process what's going on. This is probably a game, he thinks, or practice, or something - they're just kits after all - and so instead of getting upset he simply begins to squirm, wriggling beneath the two children. "oh n-no-" he chokes out in mock-fear (okay, maybe just a little bit is real, but you'd be startled too!) "I'm under at-t-taaaack!" he whines dramatically, though all in good fun.

// open to any adults at this point if ya'll wanna join in lol

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[BURNETPAW]

"Chaaarge!" Came the valiant war cry from the pipsqueak of a girl, though to her it was as fierce as the lion's great song and as weighty as the wolf's symphonic howl. An animalistic rhythm, an instinctual imitation, a grand gesture of opposition. Of course, it was little more than the wishes of a whimsical kitten, but to her, all that she saw was of fantastical origin. She played along with the verses of the world, not the other way around. The tigrine-striped kitten ran as a bolt along the cluttered verdure of the nursery, the velocity characteristic of Windclan embedded in each strenuous stride. At that moment, she swore she was faster than lightning itself! She almost stumbled on the tangles of too-coltish limbs and willow-statured body, but she pressed onwards, as though mere obstacles were not enough to prolong her onslaught. If she had tripped, she would only get up again.

As her loyal comrades assailed Periwinklepaw's other areas, she circled around and looked for another opening, mimicking the battle plans laid out by those much taller and stronger than her bough-esque form. She had to be strategic about it, just like the adults said to be. Periwinklepaw cried out in agony, but that wouldn't make the little tiger-cub retreat! No, this was the mark of a victory on the tip of their tongues! Burnetkit's needle-sharp claws aimed to bat at Periwinkle's feathery tail. She rolled around as if she were battling a great serpent, a monster that plagued her homeland for far too long. It was a due justice, and justice always came swiftly on wings of grace though never of clemency.​

 

[GRAVELSNAP]

In hindsight, Gravelpaw should have known better. They’d come over to greet Periwinklepaw, fully understanding the risk of wandering too close to the nursery. They’re listening to the other apprentice, patient despite the stutter that Firepaw likes to make fun of—they understand why the black she-cat mocks Periwinklepaw, because it often makes sense, but Gravelpaw doesn’t feel the urge to join in on the mockery. Sure, the dark-pointed apprentice might be pathetic, but he isn’t outright annoying. And watching them get bowled over by a brigade of small kits is entertaining enough to disregard any disdain they may feel.

The monochrome feline lets out a bark of laughter when Periwinklepaw is swarmed by kittens, but a noise at their back disrupts them. The feeling of paws on their tail makes them flinch and begin to whirl around, but they are prepared for the tackle that awaits them. The smoky she-kit attempts to knock them over, but they manage to stay on their paws, fixing Cottonkit with an expression that’s half amusement and half irritation. They find themself not angry, like they had been when Adderkit attacked them, but merely surprised. Cottonkit is much unlike her brother, gentler in her actions. "You’re too small," they say with a quirk of their mouth, swiping a soft paw out at the kit’s ear. They shift to glance at Icepaw for a moment before calling for the blue-pointed tunneler’s aid. "Help, Icepaw, we’re under attack," he calls out flatly, clearly not under any actual panic, but for once finding some laughter in his chest for the kits’ antics.
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[ DEATH OF A DREAM ]​

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