pafp A ROAD LESS TAKEN | being followed

[CAMPIONSONG]

Wake up, eat, sleep, repeat... The life of the clan cat was more of a chore than anything to the wanderlust poet, like every day had just been a flyspeck upon impossibly long canvas of drywall, mote and mote along the path of the last. He had hardly been content to go through the same slog every day, but he figured that such wayward flights of fancy were of little concern of him now. He had his family to take care of here. Besides, spending springs and summers in the vast swathes of the woodlands was something he quite enjoyed, as the boughs shielded him from the brunt of the sun's holy wrath. Campionsong made sure to fulfill his duties to Thunderclan, as though he were but a good soldier flecking their name onto the stone, scrapes and cracks and scratches in the grand scheme of it. He often waxed poetic in the form of scrolling complaint, though it often rested on deaf ears. Thunderclan was dutiful, obedient, unchanging - he was not. Campion had never imagined himself living out his life like this, and the pearline-colored tom imagined himself traveling the world more than anything - but if it made his family happy, then he would be as well. If he were the splayed ground, then his family would surely be the sweeping lights.

Campionsong trodded through the mouth of the camp's entrance, silver fur like an ingress of the moon from the clouds, contrasted and shimmering heavily against the sunlit forest. In sleek jaws, he held a rather plump mouse. Newleaf had brought much prosperity to their lands, of which he duly took by the hand and spun it out of its worth. Humming a sort of half-baked tune he had just come up with, though under his breath like it were a beclouded bird's song, the older warrior had hardly realized that his little shadow was tailing him. Olive-green eyes surveyed around for that familiar fresh-kill pile. Hopefully, the queens and the elders would make a feast of the mouse. The silver tabby waltzed along the edge of the Thunderclan dens, weaving past the gloom cast by a cloudy day, as their legacies took the form of dancing rosulate shades. Basilkit's steps had been silent as shifting winds, though perhaps his son's lack of detection was due to Campion's own flippant attention span.

( Please wait for @basilkit )​

 

[BASILPAW!]

( 𖤓 ) basilkit loves his dad. his dad is the coolest. his dad is a warrior, a brave knight of the realm whose job is to protect his clan. basilkit thinks that's just about the coolest thing a cat can do. every afternoon, the cream hued boy will sit outside the nursery and keep watch for the familiar silver sheen of his father's tabby pelt. upon spotting it, he will usually bound over, tangling campionsong under his paws and waggling his little tail in excitement. today, however, newly greening eyes spot the older tom and a plan comes to form in the tiny head. basilkit has watched the apprentices practice their stalking in camp, and it's often accompanied by a surprise leap at a friend and a wild chase after. he himself is too young for such shenanigans, and it is unlikely the apprentices would practice stalking him, but he takes inspiration from their games. tiny muscles quiver with effort as the little tom slinks across the sun-warmed camp, stepping into his father's shadow and following his pawsteps.

dad is humming a soft tune, one that is welcome to the tiny ears, and basilkit will join in on the humming, giving himself away as he wiggles his haunches and launches himself after his father's tail. should he manage to grab it, tiny thorn sharp claws will sink into the fur, not quite touching skin, but also causing the silver tabby to experience an uncomfortable weight and prickling sensation. tiny white teeth gnaw at the plume of fur, verdant eyes twinkling in satisfaction. should campionsong turn to find his son, basilkit will freeze, mouth still open and around his dad's tail, eyes widening and a mischievous smile playing on his maw.

IF YOU LET IT ALONE 𖤓 IT WILL SURELY GROW

• // "#FAC966"
• 
  
  
• 
  BASILKIT 𖤓 HE / THEY, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. CAMPIONSONG x SWIFTDAWN, SIBLING TO ROSEMARYKIT, WOLFKIT, MERLINKIT. 0 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a cream ticked tabby with high white, and green eyes. a tall boy sporting a chaotically ruffled coat of pale cream tabby. darker ticked stripes flow down his fur, and band around his legs and face. his chest, stomach, muzzle, and most of his tail are white, he has verdant green eyes that sparkle with mischief.
  

​

 

[leafhusk]

⚘ the camp bustles this morning, clanmates chattering amongst themselves or showing off a new trick they learned. it is times like this where she is grateful to be here, the forest is unkind most days, but leafhusk appreciates the little moments. ones where she can breathe, enjoying the glory of thunderclan- her promotion has given her a new perspective. it’s difficult for her to imagine why anyone would love to travel the world, staying in one place is simply… better. a warm home or a busy, active ravine.

leafhusk carefully grooms the twigs from her fur, idly greeting campionsong’s walking past with a flick of her ear. the tiny bundle of scrap catches her eyes, stopping her movements to watch basilkit toddle after their father. children.. she wasn’t interested in them, or that big of a fan, but basilkil was cute. though, that is an adjective you can apply to any baby animal. "you have a bug attached to your tail. careful." she gently calls out, a smile twitching her maw, unsure if campionsong knew the baby was crawling into his fur. either way, it's good to see a sire supposedly take care of a child. they're always so distant, in her eyes.​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Watching ThunderClan's youth is now something Raccoonstripe finds himself preoccupied with. Since Nightbird's quiet revelation to him, both of them bathed in moonlight, the dark tabby warrior is quiet and reflective. His eyes follow Campionsong, blithely unaware of his tiny shadow, until said follower launches an attack on his tail. Leafhusk's low, humorous voice sounds from nearby, warm and teasing, but the other lead warrior feels his throat constrict.

How soon will that be me, trying to do my duties in camp, while some scrap of fur is needling my tail with their teeth?

Raccoonstripe settles his bulk near Leafhusk; he greets her with a low, trilling mrrr, his dark gaze never leaving Basilkit and Campionsong. He opens his mouth and tries for humor, though it wrestles the dread in his heart: "If you need help swatting the bug, let us know."

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Raccoon . Raccoonstripe, he/him w/ masculine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 37 moons old, ages realistically on the 5th.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring Thistlepaw ; previously mentored Wildheart, Moonwhisper
  — thunderclan lead warrior. gray wolf x howlingstar, gen 2.
  — currently mated to Nightbird.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh black tabby with white and dark brown eyes. charismatic, charming, calculating, ambitious, shallow, manipulative.
  
  

​

 

[WOLFPAW]

Stalking was not something the sepia had gotten used to yet. Sand-licked paws attached to stubby legs did not move the way they wanted them to, their tail another obstacle that got between hunting practice and Wolfkit's target. It could feel silly falling over, but it was also fun, as if seeing the world spinning around was a greater reward than successfully catching a bug or a mossball. A large yawn parted the kitten's maws as they blearily blinked their eyes open from their nap, an unfocused attention on the camp in front of them. There were cats wandering about, all with faces unfamiliarised by the youth and - oh! The world outside of papa and Basilkit, once more, faded into obscurity, as their kitten-blue gaze found a bundle of familiar cream fur amidst the camp that had attached itself to Campionsong. Within a moment of waking up, they were hopping over like a newborn lamb, a wily grin upon their face before they even realised what Basilkit's game was. All Wolfkit saw was their brother attacking Campionsong's tail as if it were a piece of prey and that was enough for the other to want to join in.

Whether to be on papa or Basilkit's side was a question of faith absent from the cream point's mind, but fairness would dictate that they side with the latter, as if two kittens were enough to take down a whole warrior (normally, with Campionsong, just one was enough! Their siblings must have been very strong) Entering a deliberate crouch in front of the other, Wolfkit bound forwards with no rime or reason, attempting to wrap their paws around Campionsong's leg as if engaged in a bear hug. Teeth and claws were miraculously unused, the kitten put off prior by the sound of protests from siblings when they'd been too rough. They couldn't see Basilkit past the strands of silver and blue fur, but they knew the other just had to be hanging on. "I got him Basil!" They called to him, innocent mirth ripe in their voice. "Let's win!"


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[CAMPIONSONG]

"Ow!" A rather ungraceful squeal erupted from Campionsong's mouth as a prickle akin to a jaw of thorns clamped onto his tail, though it was as light as a spiny burr, simply clinging onto the ends of his purls by its own means. The older warrior thought he had snagged against a particularly jagged rock or errant twig at first. Warm olives settled upon Basilkit biting onto him, an eased chuckle fluttering from his mouth as Leafhusk called his son a bug - his children seemed so small that the comparison felt apt to the sire. Mischief flooded the innocent smile of his son, of which Campionsong could not help but match, as though he embodied just as much callowness as the wide-eyed child. "Woah! Didn't even see ya there, little bud. Bet you'll be a great hunter with those stealth skills." The silver tabby lifted his tail gently to release the kitten's grip, then dangled it over him like a goading rowel, an invitation to seize it further. When the silver tabby was a mere boy, fraught in downy cheek and tangling coat, he always enjoyed toying with stray tendrils of anything. Perhaps his son shared some of that long-forgotten sentiment.

"Hehe. Much appreciated, Raccoonstripe. I've got it covered! I - Woah!" Wolfkit came barrelling towards him, like a fraise of ice and a flash of light, as the youth proved to be much quicker and higher-energy than he could have ever anticipated. His child then clung to his head, and miraculously did not use their claws nor fangs. Gaze darted to the nursery for a split second, as if he half-expected Swiftdawn to emerge from the nursery and chastise him for being so rough with the kittens. How else would they learn how to have fun?, he would have reasoned back to his companion. "Well, I'm a big bad wolf, and two kits would never be enough to take me down! Raaaugh!" The gangling warrior tiptoed around the flailing limbs and bird-bone bodies of his children, movements brisk as a willow bracing itself for the ground, tendrils never remaining upon the earth for long. Graceful legs took care not to accidentally squish or kick away his children, and that test of fortitude proved harder than he thought it to be. Still, the fun of the situation had overtaken any sort of culminating, condensing worry. When given the opportunity to play the fool, Campionsong always took it with expectant hands, of which he had honed sweet nothings and fleeced words quite well within his many moons of life.​

 

[BASILPAW!]

( 𖤓 ) "'m mot ah baugg!" the protest to raccoonstripe and leafhusk's words comes out of a maw still full of silvery fluff. basilkit clings on to papa's tail like a burr, beginning to shake his little head as if playing tug-of-war. his father swings around, catching him in the act and lifting his tail, which the sunny boy lets go of reluctantly. "i got you! 'n you didn't even see me!" he crows, little paws tapping the earth in delight. his turquoise gaze flits up to where the tail dangles tantalizingly overhead and he hoists himself up on his hind paws, batting at it as it whips back and worth. soft paws clap the tendril between them, and he'll tug it down, reaching up to bite it before he hears the call of his sibling.

immediately the cream tabby ears prick up and basilkit grins, jumping in place. "yeah!! get 'im wolfkit!" he shouts back, before diving back into the fray, aiming to jump onto his father's flank and cling to it, using the soft short fur to clamber up atop his opponent. campionsong declares a threat and he has to respond! he succeed in clambering atop his papa's back, he'll shriek with delight. "nuh uh! wolfkit 'n i will beat you!" careless of the idea that teeth and claws may hurt, he digs thorny talons into campionsong's back, little things barely scratching skin as he clings on. from his perch atop the big bad wolf, he scans the crowd for his other siblings, wondering if they too wish to help defeat the monster.

IF YOU LET IT ALONE 𖤓 IT WILL SURELY GROW

• // "#FAC966"
• 
  
  
• 
  BASILKIT 𖤓 HE / THEY, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. CAMPIONSONG x SWIFTDAWN, SIBLING TO ROSEMARYKIT, WOLFKIT, MERLINKIT. 0 MOONS OLD, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a cream ticked tabby with high white, and green eyes. a tall boy sporting a chaotically ruffled coat of pale cream tabby. darker ticked stripes flow down his fur, and band around his legs and face. his chest, stomach, muzzle, and most of his tail are white, he has verdant green eyes that sparkle with mischief.
  

​