pafp A MILDLY MEAN LITTLE BROTHER [✦] bite

[SCREECHSTORM]

His teeth are every which way, these days. Falling out, growing in - he’d be concerned, think there was something wrong with him, but its apparently normal for kits to lose teeth. He can’t remember which of his caretakers told him that, but one of them did, Screechkit’s sure of it. He’s not alone in this, his siblings and peers are bound to be going through it too.

He’s not used to the way his bite feels, now. It feels off, crooked. Screechkit is simply unaware of the way a sharp fang sticks out of his mouth now, replacing a baby tooth that had hardly done the same. Biting down on meals brought into the nursery feels weird - that's what he knows.

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it, or if he'll ever bite the same way ever again.

Screechkit is outside of the nursery today, play-fighting with the other kits in the typical means. Roughhousing is bound to happen in these games, but serious pain doesn't ever come out of it. Bumps and bruises, sure, but nothing serious.

Today, however —

“Get off of me!” Screechkit squeaks out at his opponent. Nettlekit is a surprisingly difficult match - one that has him unable to figure out an escape. Screechkit will later claim the snow-masked kit wasn't playing fair - that he cheated - if he so much as wins. Nettlekit probably is, isn't he? Screechkit likes to think he's better at this game than what this round shows of his skill. The sun-split tom attempts to wriggle away, but it’s of no use. “Go away! You're no fun!”

Frustration at his losing game leaves Screechkit seeing red, leaves him no other choice. His paws are unable to kick the kit away from him and his frenzied mind can only come up with one final option. Screechkit’s head moves, his jaws parting as he aims to bite down at his opponent’s form, sinking uneven fangs into whatever he can reach.

// @NETTLEKIT​

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[NETTLEPAW ♡]

Playfighting wasn’t Nettlekit’s favourite game, but it was at least enough to be amusing; and he wasn’t opposed to wandering over to the nursery for entertainment. A desire to be known, to be popular, was certainly a factor in what had spurred him into this fame- but the complexities of those feelings, a young mind could not fully dwell upon. He’d simply say, if asked, that it was fun. Was fun.

He was doing alright, after all- keeping his opponents down, like you were supposed to. Winning, like you were supposed to. Everyone liked a winner, after all, so long as you were gracious about it. The victory, and its subsequent graciousness, was just in his reach- get off of me, said Screechkit, and surely he was just playing along. But then- you’re no fun, and Nettlekit recognised that those words felt bad, felt really bad. What felt worse was what came next.

“Ow!” cried the cinnamon-and-white tom, blue eyes flaring wide. The developing thorn-fangs of the other kitten had sank right into the flesh of one of his legs, and Nettlekit yanked his foot away, betrayal blazing azure in his eyes. “What was that for?” Nettlekit sounded less angry than hurt, confused at what he’d done. Whatever it was, he never wanted to do it again.
​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[honeymoon]

sweet like honey
———— ( ☀ ) ————

Playfighting was one of Honeypaw's own personal favorite games, even if she had well grown out of being able to do so as a kit with much lower stakes. Apprentices rarely wanted to tussle, either, at least ones that Honeypaw would want to fight with, so instead her roughhousing had to be reserved for when claws were out during training and she had to actually try and learn from it. Ugh, completely took the fun out of it. She always felt a light sting of envy whenever she passed by kittens playing, whether rolling over each other in wrestling or batting a moss ball back and forth to each other. Her jealousy had slowly worsened over time as her visits to the nursery had become more frequent to tend to her little sister. This time was certainly no different, having returned from training with Ferndance and making a quick stop by the freshkill pile to grab a mouse for Chervilkit before heading toward the nursery. She recognized the little scraps of fur as they moved together by their colors alone, especially Nettlekit's weird white head. It seemed like Screechkit was losing, and the thought made Honeypaw giggle behind her mouse. His mouth was loud, still living up to his name. He'd probably whine about it and --

Ow!

Oh! Well Honeypaw hadn't expected a bite to happen. The apprentice dropped the mouse at her paws and came to a sudden stop at the fronds of the nursery, whipping around on her paws. "Hey!" Honeypaw snapped, reaching a paw in to try to scoot Screechkit away from Nettlekit. Forestshade's incredible lack of parenting was really showing in Screechkit - he was basically feral! For his sake, Honeypaw hoped Granitepelt wasn't around to hear the commotion. She wouldn't place him above scolding the stars out of a kit because his own was hurt. "What'd you have to bite for? No one likes losing, but cats like a sore loser even less." The irony of such a message coming from Honeypaw went entirely over her head. There was perhaps no sorer loser in the apprentice's den than Honeypaw herself. "You should apologize to Nettlekit. What if I bit you, huh? It'd hurt and you'd want an 'I'm sorry'!" Honeypaw couldn't imagine the frustration she would've felt if it had been her little sister at the receiving end of kitten-sharp teeth. Maybe she would turn into a Granitepelt over it. Ew, what an unsettling thought.


​

 

[Briarthorn]

BRIARKIT — hello, my old heart.
Mama was gone- out hunting again, but that was okay. Briarkit was bigger now, with an impending apprentice ceremony, her siblings too- even if they didn’t act like it.
She is a puddle of ebony, stretched out nearby watching Screechkit and Nettlekit play behind half-lidded eyes. Briarkit has nothing better to do, and Screechkit always seemed to be getting into some sort of situation.
Ow!
Hazel optics are snapped awake and alert in a heartbeat, not realizing it was Nettlekit who cried out at first, when she finally does, it’s a struggle to blink the shock from her expression.
She bounds over just as Honeypaw does, but the apprentice gets there first, and the she-kit is hopeful she wouldn’t have to mediate.
The flicker of hopes turns into a burst of anger when instead the other begins to yell at her brother.
Bristling, Briarkit would aim to shove herself between Screechkit and the other, expression eerily icy.
"Back off!" She protests, ears angled back.
Perhaps most of her anger is directed towards Screechkit, but it wasn’t the apprentices place to scold him.
"He shouldn’t have bit Nettlekit, but it wasn’t intentional, he should have stepped off of him the second Screechkit said to." If Honeypaw hadn’t heeded her first snap, Briarkit had no problem going nose-to-nose with her.
"Screechkit, apologize to Nettlekit." Now she’d finally turn to face the reason for all this hollering in the first place.
Her sharp gaze is scalding, perhaps this is why mama wasn’t around all that much, perhaps she had to start fixing it.

"speech"

tags​

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[GRANITEPELT]

Honeypaw’s musings to herself would prove to be wildly incorrect. Granitepelt does not care what Screechkit does or doesn’t do to his own kits—all children play, and their games are of little consequence to him. The green-eyed tom watches with disinterest until Honeypaw interferes, and then Screechkit’s littermate, all of them demanding apologies from one another. He snorts softly, rising to slate-tipped paws and padding to stand above his son who is still reeling from the bite his opponent had given him.

“What are you going to do about that, Nettlekit?” He eyes his son, expression cold. There’s only one right answer, but Granitepelt has his doubts the little cinnamon-furred kit will heed his directive. Nettlekit lacks the grit Flintkit possesses… his second son is all smiles and laughter, and even now, his anger feels more like injury at being insulted than it does righteous. He flicks his tail, offering no other comment—not to Forestshade’s kits, and not to Honeypaw.

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

​

 

[pinekit]

tags. ↟↟↟ Pinekit wasn’t exactly a fan of play fighting. Now and then he tried but mostly he tried to stay out of it. His denmates liked to roughhouse as far as he was concerned and when Screechkit wanted to play fight and tussle – he was relived when Nettlekit took the offer up before attention fell upon him. Still, the other kits play fights piqued his curiosity and he halfway hoped to learn something by watching that could help him when it was inevitable his turn to play. So, Pinekit lingered to the side nearby to Briarkit and watched.

He flinched when suddenly Nettlekit shrieked an “Ow!”. He flinched further as Honeypaw and then Briarkit leapt to scolding. It certainly hadn’t been a play bite by the sound of it. Better Nettlekit than me.. Pinekit edges closer to the commotion and soon they are joined by Nettlekit’s father, Granitepelt. There was an edge in the father’s words that made Pinekit cast an uncertain glance at the warrior. What would Nettlekit do about it? ”We could play a different game….” He offered in a low mumble.


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[NIGHTSWARM]

➼ Nightswarm did not entangle themselves in kitten roughhousing or play in general, they had returned from a hunting patrol and went to drop their catch when the sound of an "ow" reaches their ears do they turn around to see that Screechkit had bitten their nephew. They flick an ear watching as Honeypaw gets herself involved before Briarkit leaps forward to snap at the apprentice and whip around to scold her littermate, their half-lidded gaze lighting up in interest and slight respect for the little scrap of fur. Their paws carry them over just in time to hear what Granitepelt says to Nettlekit and the eay that his expression is cold makes them rather unsettled, their amber gaze focusing onto the small cinnamon kitten and briefly glances to Pinekit at what he says.

"A new game would be for the best, something that doesn't involve biting one another." Their tone only lighthearted for a heartbeat and this comment itself is not said in a malicious way, they clear their throat trying to think of other potential games that these little fireballs could play that wouldn't result in injury and seeing their sister or Granitepelt acting odd. "Perhaps moss ball or pretend." Their fiery gaze focused on the youngsters but watched Granitepelt from the corner of their eye as if daring him to try anything stupid, they don't care if the gray tom is their sister's mate. He should let these kittens enjoy what's left of their carefree days before being put to work and trained to become warriors. ​

[ C'MON, C'MON, AND LOVE ME NORMALLY ]​

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

The scarlet wash over his vision dissipates at the force of sharp fangs being pulled out of skin - a realization of a game gone too far punctuated by a cry of pain from his opponent. Two-toned eyes grow wide, mirroring Nettlekit’s for only a moment, before white face staring back at him twists with something else - betrayal.

Screechkit’s heart sinks. He’s done something wrong, hurt someone in an effort to free himself and gain a chance to get the upper-paw in their game. He didn’t mean to hurt Nettlekit. He doesn’t think he did, at least.

A question is shot back at him, searching for an answer he hardly knows how to convey to his opponent.

“I… I —” he stammers out, before frustration at a lack of an answer bites for him, eyes narrowing as he stomps a patched foot. Screechkit had thought he’d make this assumption later on in the game - not now, not so early - but if it’s the only answer he can find, it must be the right one. “You cheated! You… You wouldn’t —”

Another shout hits his ears before a larger paw does, a movement that leaves Screechkit stumbling backward with flattened ears. Honeypaw shouts at him - calls him a sore loser and threatens to bite him back if he doesn’t apologize. His gaze is still wide as he looks up at the golden she-cat, his paws trembling beneath him.

He wants to get away from here. He wants to hide in the nursery.

He wants his mom.

Forestshade doesn’t arrive, though. She never does; she's always too busy. Instead, a different voice breaks onto the scene, as the dark fur of his sister moves to shield him from Honeypaw. Briarkit is the second to call for an apology from him, and he hesitates. He doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong, that he shouldn’t have bit him, because Forestshade would’ve told him otherwise, right?

The cold gaze of his opponent’s father stares down at the scene, looks right past him, and narrows on Nettlekit instead. A disregard for Screechkit is shown in a question of his own - one that the dark-furred tom thinks he doesn’t want to know the answer to. Screechkit hasn't had many interactions with Granitepelt, but something about his presence makes his paws shake more than they have been.

“I-I’m sorry, Nettlekit,” he finally squeaks out, a dark muzzle lifting to peer over Briarkit’s form. He supposes his opponent won their match, but he won't admit that much.

A different game, others begin to suggest soon after. Screechkit quickly nods his head, a hesitant gaze darting over to Nettlekit’s form. “Do you… want to play mossball instead..?” Hopefully, Screechkit hadn’t bit down too hard to make his opponent have to sit on the sidelines of their next game. ​

 

[NETTLEPAW ♡]

Briarkit's words made him huff- the second? He'd hardly had a second! His first instinct wasn't to snap, though- even as he felt an expectant gaze burn onto his back, and jay-blue eyes flitted to his father. Thoughtful as ever, Nettlekit at on his words. He couldn't look nasty, could he? Couldn't hit Screechkit back. It's make him look bad, and he wasn't entirely enamoured with the idea of being yelled at. Cinnamon fur prickled with discomfort as the ebony tom stammered, as Nightswarm suggested a new game. A sigh slid through his nostrils.

"I'm going to forgive him," Nettlekit told his father- unaware it was likely a disappointing answer. He dressed himself with an easy smile near-immediately, on the surface recovering from the pain upon and beneath his skin. His attention moved back to Screechkit. "It's okay," he said, and Screechkit just had to believe him. It wasn't desperate- it was just easy. "I'm sorry too. I thought you were just playing along, when you told me to get off." He was earnest- he certainly sounded it, at least.

"We can play moss ball, if you want!" If you want. Anything for Screechkit to think he was fun again, anything so he liked him again. ​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

Granitepelt remembers his conversation with a younger Nettlekit, where the fire-brushed tomkit had listened to his father’s pain and responded with all the right answers. Something, somewhere, has gone amiss between now and then. The gray warrior’s eyes narrow into slits at his son’s response. “I’m going to forgive him.” He apologizes to Screechkit and offers to play a different game, giving into the peers swathed around them.

“I see.” His expression is carefully blank, but inside, the young warrior seethes. He turns slowly, unwilling to let the other cats see just how angered he is by the innocent boy’s response. It would not do for them all to start gawking or making strange comments to Nettlekit… although it appears to him the child is already lost, not worth investing anymore of his time into.

✧ INFO.

• out!
• 
  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

​