camp as the hours pass ✿ intro

[Petalpaw ★]

Quiet.
It's very quiet, the camp is hushed and the morning only just peering over the tall grasses in the distance, a warm bisque fog hovering just above the ground and drifting listlessly along. Petalkit's lilac tabby head pokes out of the nursery, blinking groggy blue eyes at the silent moorland and the shining surface of grass bent over from heavy dew. He raises a paw and steps tentatively out of the carefully woven shroud of grass tht makes the nursery den, tiny steps carrying him along to the middle of the camp where he can lift his head up and see the sky open above; finally less gray than it once was. Today he is two moons old. In another moon he'll be apprenticed, though with a heavy heart he realizes he will not have the presence of proud parents watching from afar as he once hoped for; the greencough epidemic that ravaged the clan moons before had taken from them many cats and both parents among them as well, leaving just he and Brackenkit alone with the nursery queens to care for in their mother's stead. Petalkit still dreams of milk scent, of warmth and comfort that will never come back, but he views the wistful memories with fondness rather than any bitter feelings. He is awake today and that's good enough, a step in the right direction no matter how small.
The tiny tom crouches down to peer at a ladybug that had suddenly fluttered into view, landing on a blade of grass that bent heavy from its sudden weight, his eyes wide as he watches it slowly crawl. When he was born it was in silence, silent as the camp was now. His ears worked fine, he heard cats speak to him and he heard them encourage him to return their meows but he never once opened his own maw to try. It's for attention, some cats uttered. He does it to be noticed. Which struck him as silly really given silence was an act meant to go unseen.
A paw raised, he bat at the red-shelled insect once and it made the grass dip and wobble in response, its wings flashed inky black with a buzz and it flit upward and vanished as quickly as it came. Petalkit stood and swift went to follow, chasing after the faint speck above him with no real sense of direction or care, only stopping when he collided with a cat suddenly stepping into his path.
Or perhaps he had stepped into theirs.
​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 He is an early riser and late sleeper, all for the purpose of vigilance. With their former medicine cat gone and likely seeking refuge with another clan, it would be wise to simply...remain alert for more dissension, whether it develops within or beyond the clan borders. Wolfsong is never the only soul awake at odd hours of the sun's presence or absence, of course, and he never ceases to take note of the faces he encounters.

The kit careening into his leg in pursuit of a beetle is certainly among them. He nearly suspects Sunflowerkit, but Wolfsong —perhaps too fancifully— imagines their self-awareness as a few degrees too developed for mishaps such as this. "Ah, my empty stomach will be pleased." A chuckle rumbles in his throat as he lowers his head closer to the kit's level. "It isn't often my breakfast runs into me. But what's this?" Wolfsong pretends at a double take. "A kitten, not a lost mouse. You should be in the nursery at this shade of dawn, little one."
​

 

[icebreath]

TAGS — Their chore routine frequently brings them to the nursery, so Petalkit and his sibling are familiar faces — and the subjects of a fair amount of pity from Icepaw. Losing their parents at such a young age must have been difficult, must still be. But as much as she likes kits, that doesn't necessarily mean she's good with them, so she fears she's never done a very good job at offering any sort of comfort or entertainment during her moss and prey deliveries. A smile and some idle attempts at small talk are all she can usually manage before feeling too awkward to persist, especially in front of the queens. Hopefully the company is worth something, at least, even if it's brief.

Seeing Petalkit outside is a pleasant surprise, though she's not expecting it at this time of day. Icepaw herself is newly home from a tunneling patrol and still smells of the earth as she pads into camp on weary paws. Though she'll always feel most comfortable in the dark underground, it's at least nice to be outside at this time of day, before the blinding sun has risen, so instead of napping she starts wondering if she should go check to see if the nursery or elders' den needs new bedding. Is this too unorthodox of a time, though? Would it be more of a disruption than a help?

At least one kit is awake. Icepaw approaches the pair with an air of tentativeness, though Wolfsong is a far less intimidating warrior than most. There's something special about both him and Sunstride, they think. What a pair they are. "Good morning," they murmur, a faint smile tugging at their lips. "How's your guys' morning going?" She knows Petalkit's a quiet one; he's never answered her attempts at chatting before. But still, she'd rather include him than not.
​

 

[BLUEFROST]

She can't help but find Petalkit strange. She shares the nursery with a number of kits, and all of them speak just fine. Sunflowerkit, Burnetkit, all of her siblings, they can talk and she can hear them. Sometimes she hears too much of them. But Petalkit never says anything. He just looks at you, and Bluekit does not like it because she does not know what he is thinking.

Plus, he doesn't have any parents. Bluekit doesn't know what that's like. She has two parents, and Swiftshrike, who had nursed them and who keeps after them now. Petalkit just sits by himself most of the time.

The longhaired blue she-kit toddles outside after him. The camp is eclipsed by a thick fog, soon to be burned off by the bright morning sun. Emerald eyes catch the jerky, zigzagging movements of a dark little insect. Petalkit follows it wordlessly, soundlessly, bumping into one of the warriors as he did.

Wolfsong says his breakfast does not usually run into him. Bluekit approaches, bright eyes narrowed. Her voice is almost petulant as she states, "You do not eat kits for breakfast." At least, she had never seen him do so. "Cats do not eat kits," she explains helpfully to Petalkit.

She turns to Icepaw, brow furrowed slightly. "I followed Petalkit. He's chasing bugs." She gives Wolfsong a cautious stare. "He says he eats kits. He doesn't."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

​

 

[TIGERFROST]

Tags and Information

---

Despite the frost, and the icy mist, and the wintry winds of leaf-bare, Tigerfrost still prefers to sleep beneath the stars. His form is huddled in his nest in the clearing, though closer to the mouth of the medicine cat's den, rather than where many of the other Warriors chose to sleep. As he wakes, he can feel the chill in his bones, the ice that rests within his fur. In another half-moon or so, the cold weather would likely be gone completely. New-leaf would prompt new growth, from the birth of prey to the blooming of flower petals. Tigerfrost can hardly wait to bask in the heat of the sun again. At the very least, it seemed that WindClan had likely seen the last of leaf-bare's snow, after that blizzard nearly a moon ago.

As he wakes, blinking open fiery eyes, he can hear the sound of voices nearby. Wolfsong and Bluekit's, and... ah. That was Icepaw, wasn't it? He blinks sleep away, stretches, and then takes a moment to orient himself with the sun's position among the clouds. Typically, he'd be up at daybreak, and no later. Now that he was stuck in camp for the next few weeks, healing from his injuries, Tigerfrost found himself sleeping in more often than not. He can't help but curse himself for such laziness. The dawn patrol was already on it's way back, if they hadn't returned already, and normally he'd volunteer to go with them. That wasn't an option now, so he simply sighs, breathing frozen mist into the surrounding air as the hollow sensation of hunger gnaws at his stomach.

Through the cold mist, his flaming eyes glow, shining through the fog to pierce the veil and settle upon the small group nearby. Petalkit, such a quiet thing, along with the three others who were now speaking. Wolfsong's chuckle is warm, and Icepaw's greeting is friendly. Bluekit's words are almost petulant in a way that is certainly amusing to the muscular chimera. The dusty hued tabby yawns, rises carefully upon his three uninjured paws as he shakes the frost from his bristling pelt. For the moment, he doesn't approach, merely takes a few seconds to groom his messy fur down to a more acceptable level. His eyes stray briefly to the fresh-kill pile, wondering if the kit's had had their breakfast yet. Stretching, he finally makes his way over.

"Looks to be a much warmer day today." The chimera comments, tail flicking toward the clear skies. Once the cold mist was gone, the day would surely heat up a bit, especially with new-leaf right around the corner. "We'll be having better hunting soon." Tigerfrost's mouth waters at the thought as his eyes shift between Petalkit and Bluekit. "You two should grab some breakfast if you haven't yet. Or, if the dawn patrol hasn't returned yet, they might have something fresh." He thinks aloud, casting his gaze across the clearing as if to check and see which cats were gone, and which remained.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit and her siblings are far more fortunate than that of Petalkit and Brackenkit. More fortunate than most, really - no illness, bellies most of the way full, two parents and a caretaker. Stars, one would even say that they already had many of the WindClan cats beneath their paws simply due to the virtue of their parents. And Cottonkit, being as observant and thoughtful as she is, knows this. That said, she's never made attempts to relent her privilege. StarClan blessed her with her family, her home, her situation - it'd be blasphemous if she did.

She wakes when Bluekit departs, not noticing Petalkit gone. She spies her bluer sister as the other slips into the early morning fog, and with a slow yawn, she stands to her paws to join the other. It doesn't take long to find that Bluekit's sorted herself among other early risers, speaking analytically about... Cats eating kittens? Rather, how they most certainly don't. Cottonkit raises an eyebrow to her sister, trying to gauge where the idea even came from, before piping up - "Cats don't eat kittens - Kittypets do. That's why they're bad." Her tone is far too sleepy to be convincing, though she almost hopes that her own matter-of-fact tone is enough to convince not only her sister, but the other kittens around (Petalkit included.)

Speaking of - blue eyes flutter over the lilac furred tom, noticing him properly for the first time since she arrived. He'd be apprenticed with the lot of the, right? Only a few days younger, if she recalls correctly. Her mouth opens to ask him plenty of unnecessary questions (does he want to be a tunneler? Has he thought of who would be a great mentor for him? Is he even fully weaned yet?) when a yawn takes over and she instead leans into Bluekit, deciding to steal her sister's warmth rather than badger the other kitten. It's not like he'd answer, anyways.​

 

[HARRIERSTRIPE]

Sleep had already been long blinked away from his eyes, ever since turning two moons Harrierkit had grown eager to adjust to a more apprentice appropriate sleep schedule. Apprentices would often scoff when they saw him up, retorting that he would regret not taking in the extra shut eye while he could. Harrierkit was too enamoured with the idea of training and becoming a useful feline of WindClan to heed their advice. However, he'd be lying if he didn't confess somedays, he still slept until the morning pink was gone from the sky. Today had not been one of those days, he had risen early enough to have caught Badgermoon organizing patrols.

Now he finds himself drifting back to the nursery, it wasn't even sun high, and he was once more feeling drowsiness creep into his eyes. He had been hoping to sneak back into the nursery and not be noticed to avoid teasing, but there appeared to be some sort of scene occurring in the area. Quietly he observes it all and after a few seconds pass he's standing by the rest of the kittens, Icepaw, and two warriors.

As per usual, he cannot believe his sister's seriousness. Harrierkit was far from a jester, but he could at least pick up teasing when it was whispered right in his ear! "He was just joking." He informs, rolling his eyes only to also shake his head at Cottonkit's words. Kittypets eat cats? What a ridiculous statement! "Don't think so. Kittypets are too soft. That's why they are bad." If what Cottonkit said was true though, they really best be cautious of Azaleapaw and Silverpaw. Did they have an appetite for feline?

Subconsciously during all of this, Harrierkit hardly acknowledges Petalkit directly. He was used to his den-mates deathly silence, but similarly to Bluekit he found it strange. Was something wrong with Petalkit? Could he simply not speak? Or even simpler, did he choose not to? "Why" questions always did float in his mind on why the tom-kit was mute. At this stage Harrierkit usually glossed over his den-mate, not out of intentional malice but in acceptance he would get nothing in response. Perhaps with age he would grow to be more willing to attempt nonverbal communication with Petalkit. ​

---

Spoiler: TAGS 🪶 02-16

( primary character / "speech" / ic opinions )​

╰ ჻ 001 GENERAL INFORMATION ,

· SOOTSTAR, male — he / him

╰ ‣ 2 moons . pisces. ages on the 14th

╰ ‣ windclan kit . believes in starclan



╰ ჻ 002 VISUALS & AESTHETICS ,

· DOMESTIC FELINE, smells of the earth and dry grass , status — 100%

╰ ‣ blue and brown chimera . average sized WindClanner . yellow eyes



╰ ჻ 003 MENTALITY & MANNERISMS ,

· ESTJ-A ❝ EXECTUTIVE ❞ , Slytherin, Chaotic neutral

╰ ‣ self-reliant, loyal, disciplined, direct, impatient, unsympathetic, judge mental

╰ ‣ finds moderate difficulty in relating to others . can be cruel, but typically displays mercy



╰ ჻ 004 INTERACTIONS & RELATIONSHIPS ,

· WEASELCLAW x SOOTSTAR, sister to Windstrider, Sootchaser, Moorkit, Adderkit, Bluekit & Cottonkit

╰ ‣ sexuality unknown

╰ ‣ apprentice to TBD

╰ ‣ poor fighter . poor hunter .

╰ ‣ will start fights . unlikely to flee .

╰ ‣ attack in underline . penned by user @ava.

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerkit was roused by the leaving of the other three kits, having not noticed Harrierkit slipping away. He often leaves in the mornings, they've found, light sleeper that they are. The others are a surprise though; they blink blearily at Petalkit, the one to wake them, as he pads out of the den, and trail groggily after the two sisters who follow.

Petalkit is interesting, they like him. He never speaks, and everyone seems to chide him for that. They'd gotten some of the same, when they were younger, though Vulturemask's glares warded most of it away. It wasn't until they were a bit older than Petalkit that they started speaking, barely a moon ago. It's something they often regret; now everyone wants words from them, and they never have many to give. They like Petalkit's silence. There's no expectation there. It's easier, more natural, to just communicate through body language and the understanding afforded by companionship -- though they have spent little time with the younger tom, merely observing from afar.

Still, Sunflowerkit follows him out, focused on Petalkit above the other two (they hold some fondness for Cottonkit, though she is a bit much for first thing in the morning), and are pleasantly surprised to find Wolfsong waiting there. Well, now they feel even better about this decision. They drift over to Petalkit and Wolfsong, ignoring the rest of the gathered cats. They give a small, sleepy smile to Wolfsong in greeting.

The conversation swims around them like the fog the cats find themselves entrenched in, and they listen with only half an ear. The other kits are... debating whether or not Wolfsong eats kits? Or, no, whether kittypets eat kits? Weird. After much deliberation, they carefully weigh in: "Would taste bad." Their voice is soft and sleep-rough, intended for their audience of two.​

 

[LAMBCURL.]

He's intruded at a strange spot, he thinks.

It's something to cherish and behold, a little one's first experience of this wonderous world. It would set the tone for their rest of their little lives. Talkative or no, his mind is swimming, he's sure. And today he learns of yet another thing he shares the very earth with. Flickering, buzzing, the bug is there– first signs of newleaf, joyfully, he realizes– it is there, and then it is gone. The little one gives chase until they cannot anymore.

Supposed fear meets the little one then. Waiting jaws of a predator, or so he claims. Childish claims, is all it was. They were not starving that badly. No, not yet. From there, its only semantics. More tiny bodies on unsteady paws wobble over to debate. The older folk are only caught up in it all. Good morning, nearly grown, Icepaw murmurs. Tigerfrost, noble soul, tries to steer their minds towards something realistic. Prey less effortful, something you could indulge in without a fight, without claws prying you open in turn. Of course, that is, circumstantially. Rabbit's could be quite fierce too, at times.

Lambcurl is a quiet presence as he draws near. Some of them would be his size already, not so far away. His smile finds its way towards Tigerfrost, strong presence beside the throng of littler-folk. Softly, he hums agreement, eyes squinted. "Hmm. It will be newleaf soon..." He turns to Petalkit, then. Glassy-eyed, he smiles. "You'll see many more little things." Slowly, his gaze drags to the others present. Battle-locked, they seemed. Warring in their own kittish ways, even if not all of them were so committed. Lambcurl narrows his eyes. His smile is placid. "Too busy... Everyone will be much too busy to pick you apart, then..." That is to say, that it was somewhat a risk now still, though he certainly would not be the one indulging.​

 

[Petalpaw ★]

The kit's eyes widened, vibrant sky blue as he peered at Wolfsong with an almost fearful stare to the tom's remark. Little mouse. Prey. He flattened to the ground in silent horror before the golden tom's demeanor shifted and he flicked his tail quizzically in reply; was he or was he not going to devour him. Petalkit's tiny black claws remained out, clutching the earth for support until he found himself gathered around by the other kits of the nursery who had followed him on his forray as well as an older apprentice.
Icepaw greets them and he blinks slowly at her, wondering what she expected back from him if at all but he settled for a nod as he straightened himself back up to stand.
Bluekit turns upon him, field green gaze intense and informs him otherwise and he finds himself slowly nodding along as she explains helpfully that cats did not eat cats. Apparently kittypets did and he whips his head around to Cottonkit with an incredulous look upon his maw, pupils drawn into thin slits of surprise upon each wide azure iris. Petalkit does not know much of kittypets, only that WindClan did not like them. His parents hadn't, they had spoken up about it before in their brief moments on this earth before a fit of coughing and horrid wheezing drew them into it. The moors were fit for only one kind of cat: proud and loyal WindClan born. Which he was. The lilac kitten had no fear or concern about his place here, he fit the minimum criteria he had heard spoken and even as Harrierkit clarified that kittypets didn't eat kittens he found his head bobbing along still in a nod of understanding. It didn't matter what kittypets ate really: they were bad and this was enough information for him. Wolfsong didn't eat kittens either, also useful to know. He felt his hackles lower, tiny kitten fluff smoothing back down over his slim form. Fear scent fading. Petalkit was content in his new knowledge. Sunflowerkit adds on that cats would taste bad and he shows his teeth in a wide smile, whiskers quivering. How did Sunflowerkit know this? A paw raised and he gestured into his open mouth as he stated directly at them before tilting his head with a jerk in a nod toward Lambcurl.
Tigerfrost said they could grab some breakfast, perhaps they would see if Sunflowerkit truly was one who ate cats and he considered the albino tom here the more tastier looking of the others present. You couldn't eat another kitten, then who would they play with? Wolfsong would deserve being nibbled on perhaps for his joke, but the brown tabby looked a bit too rough to chew. The soft, curly-furred tunneler was the only cat he would consider edible.


​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) The tortoiseshell watches with tired eyes as Lambcurl slips in, his smile strange and his words trailing. They've never quite known what to make of him, but they certainly don't trust him very much. They avoid the albino tom, when they can. It's easier now that the snow has long melted; his pelt stands stark against the green moor, so it's easy for them to always be in places he's not. Not an unusual practice, for the kit, as they are not fond of most cats who are older than them. They stick with their fellow kits, when they socialize at all.

Sunflowerkit is caught a bit off guard, then, when Petalkit points to his mouth, then to Lambcurl. Their earlier comment had been said with a conviction that could only be afforded by a sleep-addled, half-dreaming mind, granting the kit a faux expertise that even they know not the origin of. They've never much considered eating other cats, truly. They never had any reason to.

Their head is tilted as they eye Lambcurl. Is Petalkit saying... that they want to eat him, perhaps? They squint. Hm... Well, Sunflowerkit has to admit, he does look soft. Kind of like a cloud, really... Sunflowerkit has wondered, before, what it'd be like to pull a cloud from the sky, to hold it between their teeth. Oh, how they'd love to do so. What would a cloud taste like, they wonder?

Well, perhaps they can find out, now.

Sunflowerkit moves suddenly, striking snake-like, after several heartbeats of staring at Lambcurl. His tail is too short to reach, unfortunately, so they instead try to latch onto his leg with tiny teeth. Should they make an enemy of him, they will not mind. Petalkit should have their back.

After only a moment, Sunflowerkit pulls away, apparently unbothered by any reaction Lambcurl may have, and turns back to Petalkit. With a grim solemnity, they shake their head. Then, they stick out their tongue, revealing the prize for their endeavor: a mouthful of curly white fur. Lambcurl tasted nothing like they imagine a cloud would. Mostly just like dirt and grass, in fact. Very disappointing.​