pafp BLESS THESE BURNT WINGS ❀ RUDENESS...

[LUNGWORTKIT]

" Soot! " The girl's voice is a cry as husky as that of an elder long in the tooth, or a grizzled warrior with a scar banding their throat—but no, that rasping tone emanates from her pink - tinged muzzle, bits of peach - hue showing through where her wispy fur is thinnest. Her greeting is equally brusque, a short shout hailing the chimera tom; used to talks of herbs and medical ministrations, Lungwortkit's social skills have yet to quite catch up with her ever - expanding vocabulary. She is not aware that her use of @SOOTSPOT 's prefix alone has the potential to induce no small measure of fear in the survivors of Sootstar.

Her split - colored eye scrutinizes the warrior's face, the dirt - flecked tips of his ears, his round acid - green eyes. Mostly, they focus on the haughty smirk his muzzle always bears, her white nose - bridge rumpling as the only indicator of what goes on behind her eye. Lungwortkit coughs once, as if to punctuate, pulling in a hard - won breath. Tact is not yet an art she's learned, having nobody to teach it to her—having lost first her mother, now a shard of glossy memory, then Cotton—and she plainly makes no use of it as she asks, " Why do you look like that? "

OOC : Please wait for Sootspot to post!

❀

​

 

[SOOTSPOT]

As he prowled across the camp clearing, the butchery of his name caused the chimera to pause, tilting his head upwards. He had long since become the only Soot worth remembering, the son scorned by a lying mother, whom wished equal parts for her love and to prove to her that he did not need her love. She'd have loved him if he gave her his life, but that had been a price too steep to pay - he just wished other clanmates did not stiffen and grow terse whenever his name was mentioned. He had not given them a reason to fear him... yet.

Sootspot's neck swiveled and, within his vicinity, he caught sight of a little abomination running towards him. 'Oh for...' A cough caused his brows to shoot upwards and his ears to shoot back. Already, a rasp too easily settled in the back of his throat, but Sootspot swore the presence of something sickly only made it worse. He could not feel the rattle, and yet, his neck still tightened as if gripped by Sunstar's teeth. Then, she asked him a question.

'Why do you look like that?'

He looked down at the kitten, blinking incredulously. 'What do you mean by that?' The sharp mental accusation required a smile as bright as the sun to balance it, his head tilting sweetly as if addressing someone he truly cared for. 'What in StarClan's name do you mean by 'why do you look like that?' Sootspot couldn't think of anything wrong with his appearance, except for a height which made fighting more of a hassle than it was worth. He had fur softer than cotton, eyes like fields of rye, what discrepancy had Lungwortkit seen, except for a long scar upon his chest?

Or, perhaps she meant how perfect he looked, compared to the disheveled warmongers she'd likely seen visit her time and time again. In a display of mercy, he chose to believe that lie. "I take care of myself," he mewed. "Should I have matted fur, it would too easily snag against things underground. The real question, the one he had on his mind since the start, was 'why do you look like that?' Why was Lungwortkit allowed to stay after threatening the clan with her existence? Why was she still alive? "As for the scar, well... the council members have one too." Scorchstreak, Sunstar, Wolfsong - they ganged up on the meaning of his scar to ignore the fact that they were guilty too. Guiltier. He could not count how many may have been killed or injured by their barbaric claws.

"It was an old tradition for loyal WindClanners. Fear not, you will not get one." There was a double meaning in there somewhere, one hidden behind layers and layers of false positivity.




​

 

[Brackenpaw]

To simplify clanmates names only to their prefix’s was a really smart move, they will admit the blatant disrespect that can be interpreted from that action was really funny to her as well. Lungwortkit’s call causes a large ear to twitch, looking for the pair in the camp clearing. They wouldn't deny that they were immediately drawn to the scene just to see how Sootspot would react at this point. They coughed to stifle a laugh in reaction to the kit’s continued bluntness, she decided in that moment that Lungwortkit was pretty funny and that they wanted to see how this would develop.

Brackenpaw found herself joining the pair “maybe you’re too clean?” she offered as she drew closer, they themself were also unsure what the kitten meant by that. “Every cat looks different though but I'm guessing you've noticed that Lungwortkit?” they continue, trying to not make it sound like a lecture. Only to grimace when they realise that she failed at that, eugh she sounded old trying to make this seem like a learning experience. They fall silent as their tail sways in irritation, since when did she try and teach things? Eugh, they guess that she’s no longer a kit- while it was still a ways away it was kinda close to her becoming a warrior, as daunting as that seemed.

Sootspot’s words always left her confused, this was no different. The tunneler always seemed to have a talent for speaking, to weave metaphors or alternative meanings behind seemingly polite conversation. They kinda admired that but most of the time it just made talking a little confusing. “You don’t have to get a scar though” they glance back to the kit, trying to fight back the urge to give the warrior a pointed look.

“He can’t see the future or anything, you might not get one” they joke with a grin, trying to move the subject along from that of scars. “What did you mean by, ‘why do you look like that’?” Curiosity was a fickle beast and Brackenpaw wasn’t one to deny it.

---

‎‎ ‎┌── Im just a dog ⸙ with no bite ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  ooc.
  
•  
• Brackenpaw
  ✩ they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 10 moons (ages on the 22nd)
  ⭃ a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
  ⭃ Speech, thoughts, attacking
  ⭃ NPC x NPC, mentored by Bluefrost
  ⭃ easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ⭃ All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
  

​

 

[downyfur]

Downyfur tries not to cringe too hard; at least, not visibly. Even as a kitten Lungwortkit's age, they probably wouldn't have said something like that. Or maybe they would've; their earliest kithood memories are so blurred, faded markings in the background of ugly red tumult. They're grateful their old mentor doesn't hold it too harshly against the kitten, though. (Once again, not visibly at least.)

They pad over just as the momentary insult in his face fades into his signature sacharrine smile, which puts them even less at ease than if he'd just settled for looking annoyed. She's just a kit, she reminds herself. Brackenpaw sidles over too, likely also drawn by the tiny fires needing to be put out. She seems to harp on his scars as though he implied they were an inevitability—and maybe they were, with this life of theirs Cottonsprig had dragged Lungwortkit into. Not scars like his, though; hopefully never again. They curiously regard Brackenpaw from out of the corner of their eye: were they even old enough to remember why he had them?

Downyfur offers a gentle, soothing smile to the pair of round, bi-colored eyes. "You should take a bit more care with your words, Lungwortkit," they advise. "If you ask questions like that, cats might think there's something wrong with them." Maybe she would insist that there was something wrong with Sootspot; it wouldn't be unexpected for a child. "Everyone's a little different." You especially, loner-born.

"Soot!" she'd called him. The real one is long gone; this kit would not be entirely disadvantaged for her birthplace. Downyfur doesn't know why she's not entirely relieved for that.​