private bad luck * softkit

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. bitekit's been waiting for his father to appear with growing frustration, he has become so swept up in the riverclan's fleeing crowd, it's all too easy to lose sight amongst the crowds and had yet to see him again. the move had thrown everything into turmoil, probably knocked and scattered his rock collection, he notes bitterly. for a lack of anything to do bitekit's prerogative is trying to make his own fun, unfortunately for him, it doesn't seem to be working out well. a ball of moss available to him, he presses it together with his paws. it promptly falls apart, some of it soaking into the soft ground. he regards the thing with a bad tempered scowl, he tries again, nudges the dirty moss with his nose to put it all together. only when it stays together does he lean back on his haunches, a huff of satisfaction escaping.

something hot sits in his stomach, the concept has only become more all encompassing with the new camp. "i don't think anyone can make one that's better than me!" it's a challenge that garners him a few disinterested looks, the setting sun having many retiring to dens, even so, the crowded camp is busy, with shadowclan harboring so many - seemingly the cats are preoccupied, moving and talking. the lack of response has his ears drawing back, has him struggling to bite back that vicious temper.

@Archivist
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[Softsight]

For as long as Softkit could remember, her life had been a series of upheavals and confusion. One of her fathers had been sick when she was born, and the disease had persisted into the incidents with the rogues that had driven her entire family out of ThunderClan. The other kits that were taking refuge in the ShadowClan camp all seemed to miss their homes, but Softkit didn't; she just felt as if she hadn't enough of a connection to consider herself missing ThunderClan.
What Softkit did miss was her family being together, even if her dad was sick. It was simply better when they were all together, and it seemed far too long since Softkit had been able to see her other father, who was healthy and forced to stay outside the camp with all the other ThunderClanners. Vixenkit was asleep at Softkit's side when a challenge echoed throughout the camp and Softkit pinned her ears to her skull - so loud.
Still, Softkit got to her paws, tentatively peering out of the nursery to see who had issued the challenge, and what was being made. She wasn't surprised to see another kit, and her eyes fell on the mossball at his paws.
"I could try." Softkit offered as she approached the strange kit.​

 

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. the crickets start to make themselves known, piping up amongst the hushed conversations. when he hears the patter of paws he swivels his head to face softkit. bitekit regards the other kit with thinly veiled contempt, as though he hasn't made the request for attention in the first place. he similarly shares no surprise she's a kit - seemingly their numbers taking refuge are large as much he gathers from the business of the nursery.

he hears the soft spokenness, sees the puffy fur, it immediately draws, his attention, and unfortunately, that bubbling frustration are targeted on softkit. bitekit looks at what he's made and he pulls it apart the dirted thing with his too big for him paws, essentially shredding the thing. he noses the remnants over to the kit.

"what's your name? can you do it?" he tilts his head, continues his barrage, "i don't think you can do it?" he pushes it closer with yet another ingenuine question: "maybe you can show me?" he's intent on humiliation, as if he has something to prove. it's one of the few instances he's paid mind, instead of being offered disappointment or seen his own frustration mirrored, often a result of his own doing.
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[Softsight]

Softkit watches with neutrality scrawled across her face as she watches the other kit destroy the mossball that he'd made, nosing the remnants over to her for her to take a turn at making one better than what he'd produced. There's something in the tomkit's words that feels insincere, but Softkit is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and say it's her own misreading of the situation.
"My name is Softkit. I can try." She introduced herself, echoing what she had said when she'd first approached, and with that she took the mossy scraps and began to push them together in an attempt to get a feeling of how to make a mossball, a task she'd yet to perform. Her sister was much more outgoing, so Softkit left that sort of thing to her. "And you? What is your name?" She asked, glancing up at the tom momentarily.​

 

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. he blinks, startled, it's clearly not the response he has come to expect, it's not the response he has wants - he wants her to shutter away from him. he regards the soft-spoken kitten. softkit. "makes sense." he childishly mutters it like an insult. "bitekit." he announces. tipping his head to one side he watches her attempt with the mossball, ready to pass his unasked and uncalled for judgement. "don't think you can do it." he tacks on again, as if she hasn't heard it the first time.

bitekit notes, with slight interest the scent of softkit, the smell of the forest, unlike his own fishy scent. "this isn't your clan." he states, unable to hide the curiosity behind the words, largely unfamiliar with any clan that is not his own. "where did you run from?" there's something behind those words, a distaste he can't filter out, as if he also didn't run for his life to refuge himself.
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[Softsight]

Bitekit, the kit says, with all the arrogance that someone as young as he can muster, and Softkit ignores it all the same. She had her own struggles with accepting her name as something that could ever be strong, but she wasn't going to let someone else reflect those insecurities back at her. Carefully, Softkit began to mat and weave together the strings of moss, bringing into existence a rather average mossball - not something to hark about, but certainly a decent attempt and one that would survive being battered around by tiny kitten paws.
"I came from ThunderClan with my fathers. Did you come from RiverClan? I've heard about it." Softkit informed Bitekit as she nosed the finished mossball back towards the other kitten, having completed the task that she'd been challenged with. There was no overt pride in her work, but there was a definite sense of satisfaction that permeated her words. "Here, I've finished."​

 

[BITEFLOWER]

bio ₊˚✧ ﾟ. thunderclan. the curiosity induced by softkit's words somehow doesn't deter his focus, his target decided with finality. "are they here?" he asks, a spike of boiling envy shooting through him even previously to a response. "yes. i came from riverclan." he offers stiffly and shortly before his gaze is drawn down to the finished mossball.

"you did it!" he pushes it down with a paw, watches it spring back up again, a study thing. he looks at softkit and knowing what he needs to do that will relieve the horrible feeling, digs his face and paws into the mossball, tearing and pulling, tugging and shredding it with his teeth and pulling it apart with his paws. he faces some difficulty, not able to entirely tug the whole ball apart. "oh. it wasn't good." a vicious streak of satisfaction runs through his and he raises his head to drink in the reaction.
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