pafp BELONGINGNESS ☁ NAPTIME

[COLTPAW]

You need to bond with the other kits, the queens sometimes tell him, an echoed sentiment from faces that blur together . . . disinclined to attach himself to a single foster mother, Coltkit drifts alone about camp, bobbing from nest to nest when dusk falls and the kits are shepherded off to bed. Sometimes they nudge him to join in kitten - games or senseless little conversations, but he prefers to relax . . . let the world fade away below as he drifts high amongst warm - hued blue, watching purple dusk fall, or dozes off on a bed of fluffy white clouds ( aka, unsuspecting Clanmates' pelts ). He just . . . isn't interested, and he doesn't quite understand why everyone else cares so much.

Well, he's figured out how to bond . . . by napping next to his denmates. They don't have to talk, and he can forget they're there, but he's near them, and that counts, right? Today, his target is one of Nightbird's brood . . . @bayingkit often deters their other denmates with her snapping teeth, spiky pelt, scratchy barks . . . sharp in all the places that should be dull and blunt where she should be bladed. It doesn't bother Coltkit, though; if anything, he likes her a little more for how much less likely she is to bother him with needless chatter.

Coltkit meanders up to a spiked - up tabby pelt and flops unceremoniously down, overlong limbs sprawling outwards but still careful not to smack Bayingkit with a wayward paw. His heavy tail flops in a lazy curl behind him as he rests his chin on the dusty grass, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales the sweet smell of green sprigs. Bayingkit's keyed - up reaction is met with nothing more than a flutter of monochrome eyelashes and a slow, unbothered exhale out of his nose as the boy melts into a tabby puddle.

OOC : Please wait for Bayingkit to post!

☁

​

 

[bayingkit]

rare are the days bayingkit falls asleep in camp ; when she plays just a touch too hard, and still - growing limbs do not find the strength to drag herself back to the nursery. in her earliest moons, nightbird would pluck her by the scruff and carry her back — she was getting bigger, now. today, in the heat of noon, her parents allow her to snooze beneath the shadow of highrock. she is rested upon a feather - striped back, halo of frizzy rotblack striping nearly dissolving beneath the great white of her underbelly. her chest flutters, brawny and stuttering with a snuffling snort, giving a kick of a single hind limb that indicated that she was running in whatever dream she’d found herself in. she does not rest peacefully — whatever tumultuous thoughts able to plague a kit young as she, bayingkit seemed to have plenty.

slowly, the scent of dog and wild - eyed enemies fade and in its place, something far softer ; something milkscented and downy to the touch, a gentle pressure at her side that she curls tighter ‘round as it encircles her. in her semidream state, she imagines it is her mother, or maybe tigerkit ( if no one else was sleepy enough to nap with ), and it makes her loose — pliable, in her sleepiness. a rumbling purr kindles at the base of her chest, giving a rare nuzzle that tucks her white - splotched nose into thick chest fluff until she realizes.. it was too soft, too plush for tigerkit or nightbird, and the paw that splays out at her side has one more toe than usual and suddenly, she can smell him and it’s not tigerkit or nightbird and where was she this wasn’t the nursery—

she releases a shrieking noise in the millisecond it takes for her to shred away from the sky dappled kit, shattering the lull of camp with thornlike claws exposed and spine a riotous row of jutting oak thistle. she mouths a hiss, another, another until all one could hear is the hushed haa, haa of breath from a twitching maw. she is all razored edges and wild, exposed teeth, ears flat and tail puffed as far as it can puff.

but just coltkit looks at her, and looks at her, and blinks in a slow, drowsy way that makes bayingkit aware of how roughly she’d torn herself from drifting dreamland. black lips still peel their faux irritation but slowly, under the coltkit’s lax blue gaze, she begins to unwind the tension of jutting muscles, a feeling of foolishness chilling the skin beneath her coat. her ears stay low, lips remain snarling, but there were worse cats to wake up to, she supposed, and.. he was quiet enough. lazy, with puffy fur that bayingkit figures was better than the dusty ground. he blinks at her so slow that she cannot hold her defensive stance because — there is nothing to defend herself against. he sighs, rests, and bayingkit snorts back wordlessly with a shake of her head, as if trying to roll the hesitation in her skull against bony walls.

inch by inch, bayingkit lowers to where she is resting against him again, tucked firmly on her belly with eyes pinned too wide and still hissing in his face — quieter, quieter, until she is lying fully again. patches of bark striped fur jut out in unkempt, electrified patches and her tail juts straight out behind her, but for once.. bayingkit cuddles. his warmth seeps against her side, a cottonesque haze of comfort with each brush against her pant - heaving side and despite the tremble of visible terror in each arch of her body, she finds.. she is enjoying it. should the tomkit move in any way, so much as to shift — he will be met with a twitch of thin tail, and a sharp growl of warning. stay put.

☽ ˚ ｡ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒  𓃥 【 𝑰𝑻𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑰𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑬 】

• i.
  
  
• 
  
  
• ” speech “
• BAYINGKIT——————— SHE / HER, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. NIGHTBIRD xx RACCOONSTRIPE, SISTER TO TWILIGHTKIT, TIGERKIT, STORMKIT & LIGHTNINGKIT. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE DISRUPTED SOIL & WET FUR. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
  a large, unsightly black tabby kitten.
  
  mongrelish, standing all thistlethorn fur and bared teeth, bayingkit would be thought roguesblood if not for the dogtooth crown she uncomfortably bears. a hereditary haunting lies in the shag of ornate black striping and long limbs that do not yet suit her wide, slouching shoulders ; her fathers daughter, laced in dredge and filth moreso than he’d ever been. a constant, incessant need to make herself small forms in hunched spine and weary, whale - eyed suspicion, communicating mostly in rumbling growls.. bayingkit tends to hold herself with a tuck tailed and trembling livewire of feral volatility.
  

  teething, easily frustrated with her lack of vocal skill and highly reactive. prone to biting, swatting and general moodiness it is highly encouraged to correct. powerplay is allowed for disciplinary swipes, scruffing and general redirection.

  
  
  

​