camp a whole lot like forever // kit intro

[cottonsprig]

[ tagging @GORSEKIT @valleykit and @slateheart ! pls wait for one of them to post :) ]

I need... Cottonsprig. The pain of a parent is not unknown to her. Slateheart sought her out, kits dangling from his teeth, from the warriors that followed him (Sunstar had been here, then.) Something in the wilderness happened beyond her, but she did not have it in herself to pry. Her pain lives in the Clan, too. In little maws just beginning to eat prey, in sharp green eyes, in speckled paws and longing glances. Who is she to judge him, his children, in whatever happened behind them? Who is she to condemn the youths who had no choice in the matter, or the tom that likely lost more than he let on?

She could not mother them. StarClan must've had a chuckle in the situation, watching her deign over newborns shortly before passing them on. A nursing queen has taken in the two tots, helped them grow, develop, learn. Two moons have passed since then, Scorchstar now ascended to leadership, and the two kittens venturing further and further from the nursery.

That day, she only notices them when a stray moss ball collides with her paw.

Her gaze flicks over, softening immediately as little paws trot quickly towards her. "Ohhh, is this belonging to you two?" She chirps softly. Blue eyes scan the camp briefly, finding Slateheart not far off. Tending to his kittens, perhaps, to give their foster mother a break? She offers him a half smile, the understanding in it locked behind clicked teeth. Her gaze falls back to the twins, "I have some time. Do you think I could play a game or two?"
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[slateheart]

Slateheart never thought that WindClan could feel like strangers again, not quite the way they had in his upbringing. It never seemed plausible that, after all his hard work, he would find himself right back at the bottom of the irreversible pecking order. And yet, here he is - shying away from his Clanmates that hold him in curious contempt, ushering his kits - stars, he still can't believe he has kits - away from those he fears may view them the same. A potent guilt gnaws at his heart, but is not quite strong enough to devoid him of the selfishness that led them here, all three of them.

It drives a wedge so deep between him and his Clan that, in two moons, he hardly notices anything else but the growth of his offspring. Barely registers that Sunstar and Wolfspring are gone, and that Scorchstar is now at their helm - aside from the terrifying fact that she does not know, and does not hold the same hesitant mercy Sunstar held.

It is only little Gorsekit and Ryekit that are spared his coldness. Though his love for them is strange, a mix of self-resentment and true adoration, it is true and strong. And, in the moment that he carefully watches them bundle over to their new medicine cat, Slateheart glimpses some sort of realization of kinship, of a togetherness that he hadn't felt in so long. Cottonsprig is a cat who does not look at him the way some others do, despite knowing just as well that his kits are only half-WindClan. Similarly, she treats those kits with kindness - in the brief moment that their eyes meet, Slateheart feels his guard let up.

He does not answer verbally, but dips his chin slightly to signal his hesitant acceptance. " Play nice with Cottonsprig, " he mumbles to his kittens, touching his nose to each one's forehead just as he did two moons ago. Then, after giving Cottonsprig another reluctant glance, he returns to his resting spot to watch over them from a safe enough distance, with his muscles bunched to spring in a moment's notice, and his eyes creased with nervousness.

SLATEHEART ( he/him )​

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( ooc ) text

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[BLUEFROST]

Bluefrost's questions had gone unanswered, the day Slateheart had stumbled into camp with foundlings. She resents this. She resents that cats fawn over Slateheart's mysteriously-begotten children, over Sootspot's, and make faces at her trueborn kits. Her kits are heirs to the moor they all sink their claws into, the prey they hunt, the tunnels they stalk. Her kits have the capacity to rule this forest the way their grandmother had aimed to do, and —

She chases the thought away, swatting it aside almost mindlessly. Thoughts like these have begun to plague her more often since Scorchstar's ascension. They are a protective mechanism, she knows — her family, on tenuous ground at best, now clambers about on quicksand. The council shows no interest in her children, but they are quick to cast suspicious glares over her mate.

Bluefrost watches Slateheart tend to his mystery kits with detachment. He knows something she does not — and that embitters her. She watches Cottonsprig play with them, play with them the way she cannot bring herself to play with Bluefrost's brood, and the whole scene leaves a sour taste in her mouth she cannot rid herself of.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 18 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

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[valleykit]

It is far from secret, what Valleykit hears- the moors whisper to them when they reveal themselves, eyes aglow as they peer out over the moors. They whisper to him about the things that have happened- that they are not full-blooded. What a concept, for a kit to acknowledge at their minimal age. A mossball is tossed about in their paws, a soft smile on their face as they toy with their sibling.

Valleykit kicks it too wide- mismatched eyes, dew and honey, find that of the medicine cat. Valleykit blinks briefly, twitching their ears before she speaks. A kind look spreads over their face then, smile pulling at kitten-soft muscles and eyes relaxing. They are not treated with a malignant tone, though they think they can always feel eyes boring into their flesh. And, as Valleykit approaches, their father does too. At this age, Valleykit doesn't understand- likely wont, until they near apprentice age. A soft hum leaves them as they lean into their father, before looking towards Cottonsprig once more.

They do not speak- a quirk of Valleykit's. They are not one for conversation, but at the question, there is a brief nod. He turns and steps back, putting some room back between himself and Cottonsprig, before they crouch down. Muscles, just barely beginning to form, flex and settle as they settle into a crouch- one that was almost befitting a tunneler's stance. Bluefrost isn't seen, or acknowledged- but the feeling of eyes upon Valleykit never leaves them.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ┌── the street is for the laughter ⋅❁⋅ of young women and men ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• VALLEYKIT they/he/she, kit of windclan, two moons.
  ⭃ LH lilac tabby / chocolate mix with high white and stunning blue and yellow eyes. they are of smaller build, likely only to end up tunneler sized, and speak with a soft cadence.
  ⭃ mentored by no one / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ mated to no one / / sibling to gorsekit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[VIPERPAW]

*+:｡.｡ "WOW VALLEYKIT! LOOK AT YOUR STANCE!" cheers the ever-too-loud apprentice as he hops over to the scene. As he arrives, he can't help but stare at Slateheart. He's not quite sure what he feels towards the ebony tom, if he should view him as a bad guy or...what. He did break the code, after all, and yet here he is - much like Thriftfeather, but Slateheart hadn't hurt anyone like Thriftfeather had...Viperpaw wasn't sure, it all made his head hurt. I wonder what dad would've thought about this... a stray though breezes through him, leaving the twig-for-legs a little colder than he was a moment before.
Shaking his head to clear the fog, the young man focuses on the kits instead.

"I can already tell you're gonna be a great warrior!" he continues, blinking hard and refusing to miss a beat. Turning wide eyes on Cottonsprig, the tortie and white hops up and down and begs, just as loud, "CAN I JOIN!? I don't think Sootspot has an assignment for me yet so until he comes back - PLEASE!" In truth, Viperpaw rather liked the little ones bumbling about in the nursery. His time spent within the nursery walls had...not been the most exciting, he'll say. He would've given anything to play games with his clanmates...with his dad...Viperpaw shoots Slateheart another look, before turning back to the children. It was a hero's duty to make kids laugh, so it was alright for him to play with the kits, right?

*+:｡.｡ Updated 10/11/24

• 
  
  
• 
  "SPEECH"
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☁ Viperpaw
  ☁ DFAB— He/Him
  ☁ 10 moons
  ☁ Son of Snakehiss and Berrysnap
  ☁ Brother to Rowanpaw, Snakepaw and Privetpaw
  ☁ Windclan — Tunneler's apprentice
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☁Physically easy | mentally medium
  ☁Attack in bold white
  ☁ None currently

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