private baby's tears blue // run-in

[butterflytuft]

// TW: death of a queen and her kits

To say life has hit them both hard would be an understatement. As the pair of friends wind their way to the Twolegplace, they don't need to speak much to know that the other is there for them. Best friends, that's what they'd always been. One look at each other today, and it was obvious that they both very much needed the garden. She pads a half-tail-length from him, not close enough to brush pelts (she knows he doesn't like that too much), but not far enough to...feel lonely. Her head is dipped slightly, eyes unusually heavy. She hasn't been much of the same cat at all since Dandelionwish's death. She has no kits to rear, she has no one to tell stories to or play with or groom. She has no mate to share tongues with and split meals with. Her kits are still around daily, but it isn't the same when they can only stop by for a quick 'hi mama!' before being whisked away for another patrol. Life as she knew it is over, and it's been impossible for her to adapt to.

But she knows she is not the only one hurting. It makes her feel selfish. She's not blind, the tortoiseshell has seen how irritable and down Twitchbolt has been ever since stepping down from deputy. A part of her wants to ask him about it, ask if he's okay, but she opts instead for silence. She doesn't want to push him; if he wants to talk about it, he will. "We're getting close," She finally trills softly to him, blinking over at his face before a strange scent fills her senses. Instinctively, she tenses, her eyes rounding. "Do you...do you smell that?" Her hushed voice wavers as she looks around them, scared of what she might see. It smells like...blood, and...and...she can't place it.

One step through a thorn bush and the scene unfolds itself. The small queen recoils with a gasp, sinking to the ground in horror. Crimson paints the clearing. Her eyes reluctantly follow the trail until she spots a shredded ivory pelt, dark face, paws, and tail unmoving. "Twitchbolt," She cries, trembling as she points a paw in the direction of the body. "She- there's- those are-" She can't finish the sentence as she feels herself become sick. Two kitten-sized bundles lay next to her, similarly still. Unable to control herself anymore, a sob breaks out as she scrambles backwards, lurching as she empties her stomach contents into the bushes. What creature could do something like this? Who would-

mew...

She turns, eyes round, to see movement a few fox-lengths away from the bodies. "Oh, StarClan," She murmurs, already rushing forward until she is crouched over the tiny white bundle. "She's alive! Oh, she's alive!" She calls back to her friend, who is across the clearing investigating the dead queen and her kits. She begins to nose the tiny being to make sure she had no injuries. The only thing she can visibly see is a broken tail. "We need to get her to Fireflypaw, we..." Her words are silenced as a giant paw steps out from behind a nearby tree. Butterflytuft's face drops as she freezes up. Limbs locking, she stands unable to move as the beast lays eyes on her, on the kitten. Any other SkyClanner would snatch the kitten up in their jaws and scale a tree to escape, but she...she can't seem to move. That is, not until the hound is only strides away from her, slobber dangling from barking jaws. It's in that moment she seems to snap herself out of it, her unused claws unsheathing. I won't let it hurt you! She leaps forward to stand in front of the mewling kit, ears pinned and forepaw raised. With all her weak body can muster, she tries to swipe at the dog's muzzle, drawing a yelp from it before it snaps its jaws around her leg and flings her sideways.

A pained yowl splits from her jaws as she hits the dirt, tears pricking at her eyes. Her leg burns. When she stands and tries to put weight on it, fire shoots up her ankle and she must tuck it to her chest with a groan. But the dog is now stalking towards the helpless kit, and she can't let it reach her. "No!" On three legs, the queen lunges forward to shield the kitten, compact body crouching over her as gnashing jaws snap towards the two of them. If this is how she dies, terrified and crying, so be it. She won't let this kit be killed.

// @TWITCHBOLT :))​

 

[TWITCHBOLT]

Last time they'd trodden this path it had been easy... plodding steps, but to some purpose, and flodded with light. Since then- Dandelionwish had died, and Butterflytuft- her brood, they'd been left with no father, and his friend without her mate. His support had been the silent, shaky sort- a rumbling stone at her side, there to give all the warmth he could. He was convinced Butterflytuft was still where she was meant to be- in the nursery, helping new queens raise their kits- but he could not imagine it was easy for her to watch the other queens get to raise kits whilst she was left alone.

Well, she wasn't alone Not if he had anything to do with it. Walking in step with her, a distance between them, he was there as ever as support... and their destination was unspoken but known between the both of them. A walk with an idyllic, blooming destination. A twoleg who did not mewl and shout... a clean garden, devoid of barking beasts. We're getting close, she murmured, and a fleeting but genuine smile flickered on his lips- but soon fell when a sickening tongue coiled its way into his nostrils.

It was a sickening sight. Everything ruined, darkened... this place would never be devoid of death and tragedy, no matter how much he tried to understand it. "Oh- St-StarClan, no..." he shook his head, disbelief hitching his tone. He- he needed to make sure they wee safe... check the wounds, check- check how fresh the scent was. Something- something had been here and ravaged, razed it all- crumbled it to dust and blood and dirt. Twitchbolt grimaced, giving Butterflytuft a quick flick of the tail in a silent motion to be careful before he wandered over to the bodies.

The tears that rolled down Butterflytuft's cheeks, distraught at this grisly scene, lay dormant behind Twitchbolt's eyes, too. But- but he needed to protect Butterflytuft and her role in SkyClan's future above all else. She's alive! "Really!? Thank-" The mewl of a kitten, miraculously living depite everything, seized his attention- wide green eyes flicked over to his friend, and all too late noticed the looming presence lunging for her. Dog. It was fresh, it's scent fresh, and he'd not been quick enough in sputtering warning- in a flash, a blur- here he was, losing someone else...

No. Not this time- Butterflytuft, for a kit she had never known before now, risked her life- sobbed and shook in the face of the dog, but showed in her actions she'd sooner die than watch it rip apart this kitten. And Twitchbolt, he- he would sooner die than watch her blood weave with this fallen queen's- what friend would he be? What warrior would he be?

The horrible thing, it could rip his throat out if it would protect Butterflytuft. The moment his friend was tossed to the ground, Twitchbolt was running. Deft, bloodthirsty claws lay purchase on the mutt's flank, directing its attention. Tunnel-vision darkened the world of dogs, he knew that- "Come and get me, then!" he yowled, striking again at the snarling dog's face- anger and fixation flashed in its beady eyes.

Twitchbolt had barely a moment. "Butterflytuft, go!" he yelled, hoarse and afraid and resolute all at once. The dog lunged for him, and Twitchbolt dodged its claws, hearing its hot breath behind him as he turned and ran. Where he was heading, he did not know- but it didn't matter. It didn't matter so long as the dog was following him- so long as it could not hurt Butterflytuft.​

penned by pin ✧​

 

[budkit]

The world is an unknown. Vast and ever changing in a way the newborn cannot comprehend. She doesn’t know the mother who birthed her lays unmoving a few fox lengths away; her siblings tucked motionless against maternal martyr. She doesn’t know a sacred place has been vandalized in holy blood by a baying beast. She doesn’t know the sand in her hourglass of life could be slipping, slipping, faster with each passing second she is left alone…

Defenseless.

Cold.

Hungry.

A feeble mewl escapes the scrap of white fur as she snuffles against the ground. She’s searching, frantic and uncomfortable - somewhere on her body hurts. Where is the warmth of her mother? The softness of the queen’s belly that soothes and nourishes her? Where is the vibration of beating heart to lull her to sleep and help her forget the pain?

A nose touches her and she reacts with another mewl. The kit inches her way towards the familiar scent of milk underlying a stronger unfamiliar scent. It’s not one she recognizes but she’s cold and hungry so she finds no fear blossoming within brand new heart.

The source of the scent disappears abruptly and she becomes distraught, entirely unaware of the danger she is in. Mews stack one on top of the other, loud wails, and it’s only until the scent returns to her proximity that she quiets somewhat and tries to inch towards it again, determined to find that which will provide her with warmth and nourishment with which to survive.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[butterflytuft]

The teeth she'd been expecting do not meet her pelt. Beneath her, the tiny kitten wriggles closer to her while Butterflytuft peeks up. Yowling reaches her ears, and she sees a brown and white blur striking against the mutt. "Twitchbolt," She hoarsely whispers, tears still dampening her cheeks as she watches her friend heroically fend off the attacker. And then he looks to her, green eyes wide and frenzied, and tells her to go. Sobs rack her body as she listens obediently, reaching down to pluck the ivory kitten up in her jaws and beginning to hobble backwards on three legs. As she leaves the scene behind, she looks back over her shoulder in time to see the lead warrior disappear into the trees, the baying hound hot on his trail.

She doesn't know how far she runs but eventually her legs can no longer keep up with her. She is unused to balancing on three paws, and when she tries to leap over a root she instead stumbles and slumps to the ground, careful not to let the impact touch the kit. She lays there for a moment, crying and shaking, the last image in her mind replaying over and over of the dog chasing her dearest friend. "Twitchbolt?" She can't help herself, and she calls out helplessly for the tom after laying the kit between her forepaws. Please, StarClan, he has to be okay! "Twitchbolt!" She shouts again, fearing the worst and frozen in place next to a fence-post.

Yellow eyes shift down to the mewling kit at her feet and her face contorts in pain and pity. "It's okay, little one. It-it's going to be okay." She tries and fails to keep her soft voice from trembling. She doesn't know what to do. Twitchbolt is still out there, the barking dog now out of ear-shot, but this kit needs to get back to camp. ​

 

[EDMUND]

They were sure they heard it, a distant wail... Edmund's ears were angled to direct attention, wary steps taken. Mismatched eyes squinted through the daylight- oh, he wasn't used to these beating beams yet. They were different from Edith's flickering flmes, dancing in the reflection... doing a waltz in the window. Yeah, they were- like, direct and yellow, instead of that warm sort of orange. And- ah, it felt a bit like someone was looking at him when the sky bore down like this. Like someone was staring, and- and were they, maybe?

No reason to stare, though. No, he was- ordinary. They didn't need to know he didn't do this often. Wasn't... used to the light yet. The warmth. And how much he was afraid of whatever lurked there- no, no. That could stay under the skin, because well, if he was going to be allowed to walk around now, good impressions had to be made.

But that wailing, it had dragged them out of their head- orange and blue widened at the sight. The cat there, flame-patterned... looked a bit like those dancing flames in the window, or... like the butterflies on the wall, unmoving, always perfectly still. She wasn't still, though. No- she was moving and trembling and she smelled weird. Pretty weird indeed, not like... not like his neighbourhood at all. Edmund cautiously began to approach, unsure whether she'd whip around and yell at them to go away like that smudgy neighbour did once.

"Hey," they murmured, voice hushed. It was a quiet, quiet sound, though... had it even made its way out of him at all? No, it'd sounded more like a little squeak, creaky and barely there. They cleared their throat. "Um- um, hi. Sorry. Are you- sorry, are you alright?"

Distraction whacked them swiftly in the face, though- there was something mewling. A kitten- a kitten! Edmund's eyes flared wide because, well- this little thing was smaller than curious neighbours who poked their head over the windowsill before they tumbled outside on little legs. Could it even walk? "Sorry, is this your kitten?" Sorry- he'd said it too much. An apologetic sheen found its place in mismatched eyes. "Um- I'm Edmund. I live... not far away. I'm not going to hurt you." (Someone who was going to hurt her might say that, though, idiot!)​

penned by pin ❤​

 

[butterflytuft]

She whirls around, eyes wide and head instinctively ducking in fear. Pinned ears flick forward then - before her stands a kittypet, small but, to her, towering as she crouches low to the ground. She'd be like a sculpture if it weren't for her trembling, speechless as she stares at him like she's seen a ghost. No, no, I'm not alright. He's gone! Twitchbolt's gone! Who are you? Where is he? None of this comes out, only a squeaked, "He- The dog..."

He notices the kit then, and without thinking she tenses, lowering herself so chest fur brushes the child's body; she is protecting her from his sight. After all, she doesn't know him. He could be a horrible, horrible cat, he could be-

Oh, who is she kidding? He's speaking softly, kindly, and she realizes she has no room to be afraid of him. Their gentle voice lets her drop her guard at least a little bit, and she leans away from the kit for just a moment, looking down at her. "I f-found her," She fumbles over her hushed, shaking words. "M-my friend and I. A dog...her family didn't make it."

Fear laces her words as she looks back up at him, wary but desperate. "I don't know where he is. It chased him away." She sits up slowly, then, her bleeding paw held close to her chest, as her crying voice grows a little louder. Watery eyes blink back in the direction of camp. "I th-think she's hurt...I need to take her back to my camp, to our medicine cat apprentice..." But how can she carry her that far in her own condition?​

 

[EDMUND]

Oh, she was really crying. Edmund surmised something awful had probably happened before she said it- a dog, a dog had... killed a kit's family. Killed? The dogs he'd known had just jumped around joyfully in gardens with their Twolegs, but- well, he supposed he'd never reallk known them. Just watched them. "Oh..." It was a bit of an inconsequential noise, probably... but slowly, he padded toward her, caution in his eyes. Oh, he hoped he wasn't frightening her even more, espeically after that whole ordeal.

"I'm... I'm sorry. That must've been really scary," they murmured- empathetic, and supposed to be that way. It was how you got on good terms, yeah- but that wasn't really in their head right now. Neither was the fact that this was the first cat he'd ever really spoken to properly in a good couple of months. The tang of blood, an unfamilir but identifiable smell, wound its way into his nostrils- Edmund's eyes hardened with concern. "You're- you're hurt too. If..."

Slowly, tentatively, they made their way to her side. "If you lean on me- can you walk better? And... tell me where to go, and we'll get back to your... your camp." He spoke the last word near-grandiosely, as if it were some foreign, mystical term. Was that what she called her house? Well, then- what was a medicine cat apprentice? Was that her Twoleg? An odd name... his was just called Edith.​

penned by pin ❤​

 

[butterflytuft]

There is no point in arguing. He sees her paw and she tucks her chin to her chest, sullen and feeling...lost. What is she supposed to do with Twitchbolt still out there? She studies the kit, watches her crooked tail wiggle as she tries to get to warmth, get to milk, and she concludes what she has to do. She has to make sure this little one gets to safety. That's what Twitchbolt would want. "Can...can you carry her?" She asks softly, humiliated. She isn't strong enough to, even if he offers his shoulder to her.

Slowly, she peers back up at him, caution fading away to softness. "Thank you," She whispers, voice cracking but she is genuine. She doesn't know if StarClan themselves sent him, but what she does know is she wouldn't have been able to make it far on her own like this.

// really quick conclusion and I'll make their return thread!​