sensitive topics a little loss of innocence // headcount

[Periwinklebreeze.]

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

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periwinklebreeze ❀ 23 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan queen ​

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Granitepelt calls for a retreat - and in the aftermath, sootstars loyalists leave behind a plethora of wounds and bodies in their wake. Sunstar lays prone, neck bloodied. His sisters body is not much better off - and stars, the sight of it is enough to make him ill. Legs tremble as eyes cast about the camp in paranoia; as though to make sure every last duskclanner has truly gone. And then he turns right around and retreats back into the nursery. The assault had seemed strangely single minded - far to many cats headed towards the nursery. He's not sure what to expect - what had those rogues intentoions been? Too kill their weakest? To hurt them by taking away their next generation? Or something worse.

Legs tremble faintly as he moves, and he has to stop and stare at the fact there is a body at @RATTLEHEART 's paws. He cannot say he blames them though - it is only his own foolish emotions and a stroke of luck from the stars above that he'd not had one laying at his own. Thriftfeather had gotten lucky - and starclan only knows if Periwinklebreeze would ever make such a mistake again, faced in the same situation. At least this body does not belong to their side.

Still, he forces himself to keep moving, eyes frantically seeking out his kin. " Dustkit? B-bilberrykit? V-v-vulturekit? C'mere - it's safe now, " comes weary voice. He doesn't stop long enough to see if they've actually replied, already turning his attention to the others. " F-frightkit? Witherkit? Deathkit? L-let me s-see you - make s-sure you're alright, " he coaxes - though in truth, he knows they won't be.

No matter how untouched fur and flesh may be, there is a lingering sort of pain and hurt that grief leaves behind. To see your mother dead, before your very eyes. And at your fathers paws, of all cats. Disgust sends stomach churning once more, and he has to bite bile down. " Where's Whitekit? G-g-grasskit? M-midnightkit? " they do not have parents to look after them after all - not like Brokenkit and Honeysucklekit with Mintshade to watch over them, strange though she may be; or Crunchykit and Thistlekit, and Breezekit and Vinekit and Splinterkit, with Rattleheart willing to kill for them. The closest they'd had was.... was Nightingalecry, and she certainly won't be caring for them any longer.

Greif clouds his mind, and it takes all his willpower to keep his tears at bay - he can still feel the stains left behind during his brawl, and truthfully someone needs to be strong for the kits - and if that has to be him, then starclan be damned if he wont put his best paw forwards for them. head shakes, and as eyes rove over the smaller figures that take up the den, once absence is immediately striking - " Wheres- wh-where's Vulturekit? Bilberrykit - h-have you seen your brother? " Where on earth is his son hiding?

━ 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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// open only to all nursery inhabitants for now, or those within it during the battle

 

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Static fills Frightkit's ears. She doesn't look up at Periwinklebreeze's call. His voice matters as much to her as the blood that soaks her charcoal coat. She only sits, head hanging, moonlight eyes unseeing, trying to recall nothing at all. She finds herself only replaying memories of her mamma, where her eyes were at their brightest, even when drowsy or irritable. A pale blue the color of forget-me-nots, and a light green like morning clovers. She'd seen before, the way flowers wither and die after they've been plucked. She'd watched in fascination as those vibrant hues slowly wasted to curling browns and blacks, brittle and worthless.
" Mamma's mad at me " Frightkit comments, deathly calm and matter-of-fact. She stares at nothing. She opens her mouth. She closes it again. She'd almost wanted to ask her uncle if there was something she could do to make Nightingalecry forgive her.
" Mammas dead " she mumbles without blinking, answering herself.
She tries to refocus on her memory of her mother's eyes again, but all she sees are withering clovers and crushed forget-me-nots.

Frightkit mumbles under her breath something about feeling sick. She says nothing further.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/7/24

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

​

 

[Grasspaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ He was still. Silent. Barely listening to the voices around him. If at all, really. What was there now? If home had been taken from him twice before even becoming an apprentice, how was he to continue. Home might still be here technically, but it wasn't safe. No where was safe. And his effort to help went mostly unnoticed. The mention of his name pulled him from his thoughts momentarily. Just long enough for him to give a wordless grunt of acknowledgement. Nightingalecry was dead. And here he sits.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
• 

  NAME — HE/HIM ･ 5 MOONS ･ KIT & WINDCLAN ･ PENNED BY TWITCHTAIL

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

​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — There is blood on him.

It coats his mouth, his claws, his chest. It is everywhere, and it is suffocating. He recoils from it, away from the corpse of Thornrunner that laid still and rapidly cooling at his paws. His gaze darted over to his nest, pale green eyes desperately searching to make sure each of his children were settled within the safety of the moss. When he counted five tiny heads poking out he finally allowed himself to relax, neck stretching forward so that he could drag his tongue soothingly over Thistlekit's head. Rattleheart was desperate to soothe the wailing little creature, especially after the filthy rogue's attempt to snatch him away. "It's alright... you're all safe, I promise. I've got you." The stench of blood was still so much to try and focus with, especially when cooing and fussing over his own children.

Yet there were others to be worried over as well, as loath as he was to take a step away from his litter.

His voice was even more hoarse than usual as he twisted around, calling out into the bloodied chaos of Windclan's camp. "Venomstrike! Venomstrike, please. I need you to watch the kits while I help with everything..." Exhaustion was already seeping into him, swiftly replacing the emptiness that adrenaline had left in its wake. He didn't have time to rest though, having only a moment to press his forehead to his mate's pelt before he surveyed the rest of the nursery. Nightingalecry's crumpled over form, and the worn, torn-down seeming figure of Frightkit. The mere sight was enough to make Rattleheart's chest ache, though he pushed through it to address Periwinklebreeze. "We'll have to... move her body. Outside of the nursery, once everyone is settled." For a brief moment, he didn't even entertain the thought of any of their kits being missing. Duskclan couldn't possibly have succeeded, in any measure.

Vulturekit's name echoed in his mind, his long tail twitching back and forth as he searched for any sign of Periwinklebreeze's missing youngling. The absence only seemed to gnaw at him more sharply than ever as each moment passed. "Vulturekit? Vulturekit, if you're hiding you can come out now! Vulture...?" The silence in response was deafening, and a burdened sigh left Rattleheart as he took a step outside of the nursery. He continued to search for any sign of Vulturekit through the chaotic clash of scents and splatters of blood, left with nothing to show for it except for a headache from the sheer overwhelming wave of it all.

His eyes closed slowly, dark maw cracking open as he dug his claws down into the ground. "Has... anyone seen Vulturekit? Please..." His voice was so scratchy, and rough, and raw. Scratched up as viciously as he felt inside, his vindication over Thornrunner's death replaced by a jolt of ice cold at Vulturekit's sudden absence.

THE RIGHTEOUS HAND OF GOD 𓆩♡𓆪 THE DEVIL THAT YOU FORGOT

• // calling for @VENOMSTRIKE for kitsitting !!

• 

• 
  ❥ longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
  ❥ 52 moons old; ages the 1st every month
  ❥ afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
  ❥ homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
  ❥ sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
  ❥ currently mentoring downypaw
  ❥ somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ all opinions are ic

​

 

[BILBERRYPAW]

It was a frightening thing. It’s still a frightening thing—Bilberrykit’s dad asks a question he knows the answer to, but he hates the answer and he knows in the very root of himself that no one else will like the answer either. He considers telling a lie, because maybe then if he doesn’t want it to be a lie anymore it will instead become the truth. He clings to Periwinklebreeze’s flank—it is a familiar space if, now, suddenly lacking.

“I saw Vulturekit,” Bilberrykit’s voice is small. He hates this enough that he trembles—he’s never hated anything with this intensity before, “There was another kit in the nursery and I didn’t know her at all. And that’s where Vulturekit went too, because she was pulling on Vulturekit. But…” But Bilberrykit wants there to be a but. His eyes go moon-round—nothing about what happened makes any sense, “I didn’t see after that.”

This is Bilberrykit’s second taste of helplessness, so soon after the fire. His black ears fold, “Is Vulturekit…” There is a big question in Bilberrykit—one he doesn’t know how to ask. Is Vulturekit alive? feels like a monumentally different question than is Vulturekit dead?—rather than ask either, he cuts off into a whimper and fully hides his face against Periwinklebreeze’s flank.​

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

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

periwinklebreeze ❀ 23 moons ❀ demi-boy ❀ windclan queen ​

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The nursery is a wreck - his family hardly better. Frightkit trembles - disconcertingly silent where she lies in cooling blood. Grasskit only grunts. Rattlehearts brood squeals and cries and whines. Bodies litter the floor.

Rattlehearts words are enough to momentarily distract him from his search, head nodding in agreement at her words. " Y-yes... both of th-them, " he agrees, because while such a traitor hardly deserves a burial or any such respect, the kittens have seen more than enough tonight. There is no need to let death linger. They've been scared and hurt and traumatized more than enough for one night.

And then Bilberrykit speaks up, and already Periwinklebreeze can feel his heart sinking. 'Another kit' his son says - and peri can only think back to the days before Sunstars rule - when apprentices were made far younger then now. And he knows, suddenly, what must have happened. This so called Duskclan does not attend gatherings after all - would not go by the same warrior code, if even by any at all. Eyes shut as he tries to steady his breathing, tries to still the trembling of his limbs that only grows fiercer the more he hears.

" It's- It's okay... it'll b-be okay, " he says at last, eyes slowly opening and breathing frantic. " We'll g-g-get him home - I- I h-have to g-go for a moment okay? St-stay with Rattleheart and V-Venomstrike, 'kay? " he says, not even waiting long enough to see if Bilberrykit agrees before fleeing the nursery.

Another day, another time, perhaps he'd try a little harder to soothe the nurseries denizens. To comfort his kittens. But right now? He has something more important to do.

━ 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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// this is now open to everyone && peri is out!