pafp BORED TO DEATH ( INTERROGATION ) ༊

[APPLEJAW]

The wind was annoying her more and more every moment it stayed for, that being: entirely too long. Applekit was effectively confined to the nursery while the wind blew. She felt one moon old again, left to stomp around the nursery she's already stomped around a thousand times already. Regardless of whether her parents actually forbade her, Applekit did not want to be blown out into the swamp to be covered in mud.

So she sits, paws shuffling impatiently beneath her. She practices her posture, tail tucked atop her paws. She can hardly explore ShadowClan this way, so naturally, she must accost any opportunity that comes by. Today, that being Chittertongue. " Hey! Come here! " she squeaks, hoping to get the attention of the warrior passing by. She thought he was weird, but she wanted to know more about his weirdness maybe. Or maybe she was just bored. Applekit shifts into a sitting position– nearly being blown over again in the process, but partially sheltered by the nursery still, she is able to keep the feeling in her paws.

She squints her eyes up at the pale warrior. He must be a bad hunter. Applekit's been learning and she knew that prey saw pale cats in the marsh.

Her pelt prickles uncomfortably. She'd be a good hunter, though. Applekit juts out her lip. " Um... Are you really Briarstar's kit? " Briarstar was leader once, but not anymore. Applekit does not know much more than that. Applekit sniffs, squinting through the wind " I thought she had dark fur. And she wasn't... " Applekit pauses. Sometimes she gets confused on when to be polite and when not to be. " Um... like you, " she finishes flatly.

( ooc: please wait for @CHITTERTONGUE! )​

 

[CHITTERTONGUE]

જ➶ A tiny voice calls to him, shouts for him yo come here as he is about to leave camp. Spiky white fur is in a tonsle because of the wind that constantly gusts but he doesn't seem to mind it. Instead the half blind warrior turns his head to locate the creature that calls to him. Vision finally finding the young child through amber hues his grin widens and he makes his way over. Like a snake he slithers along till he is before Applekit and he settles down with a heavy plop. Lifting a paw to casually drag a pink tongue along his toes he waits to see just what Halfy's child wants with him when the question alights from her small maw. Is he actually Briarstar's kit. Amusement twinkles in his dual toned eyes. "Oh, oh am I?" A chuckle breaks past lips as he slowly lays down and closes his gaze. Thinking, smiling. "Briar was a dark cat. She was!"

A pelt of silky darkness. He remembers his mother well though her voice...it fades with time. That is the saddest part for him. "I had a father. I suppose I took after him the most hmm. He was a light cat." He tilts his head and opens his eyes to stare at Applekit, contemplating. "But you are correct. My mother was not like me. None of my siblings are like me. Isn't that mysterious?" He cracks a broad grin now at the thought.​

 

[Magpiepaw]

"It is." Magpiepaw answers the question that was meant for no answer, a question meant as an amused statement; rehtorical as they came, but he answers it knowing all the same. The black and white apprentice stumbles along forward, head bobbing and ears flat as he maintains his balance to the best of his abilities and comes to a solid stop just next to Applekit where he realizes finally how much bigger he has gotten. Halfshade's kits were not so little anymore, but they hardly compare to him; he was six moons, slowly growing and sprouting upward like the greenery of newleaf's rebirth. It was a marvel, once a fledgling, now a bird proper; though his wings had yet to come in still.
Stiffly the apprentice sways from side to side, nodding to unheard of things in mock agreement, contemplating his explaination for the question no one asked before launching into it with an enthusiasm born of his love of oddity and novelty alike. He looks his eyes onto Applekit briefly to start "Your brother is a cream cat, he does not look like either your mother or father. I wonder if sometimes the colors don't all go down, I wonder what stops some and not others. The shadows born of Briarstar did not leak downward into you-" His blue-violet gaze flutters to Chittertongue's face, curiousity glinting in each wide eye, "-like it did all the others." The only other outlier was Pitchstar himself, dappled and rusted yet still black. Perhaps StarClan saw fit to grant the pale tom with the odd-eyes something different than his kin. Neither shadow nor pristine white, but something inbetween.

​

 

[Swansong]

————— ☾ —————
NOW I KNOW WHAT'S REAL, WHAT'S FAKE

Trailing along after Applekit, Swankit finds that he likes her target of interrogation this time. He has a nice laugh, one that makes him smile along too. Briarstar's kit... He doesn't look much like a kit, though. A pale tom with no siblings alike him. Swankit hums a bit in sympathy. "None of, um, of my siblings are like me either... Right, Applekit?" A glance to her for approval. They're all girls, except him, but they're not talking about that right now. The colors are more interesting. "'They all have the... two colors. I think you took my eyes, mister." He furrows his brows at Chittertongue. He's got eyes like mama, but colors like him.

The wobbling apprentice comes along, right on time, affirms Swankit's own thoughts. But with a theory this time. He considers it, blinking slowly. "Oh... but we're ShadowClan, so we're supposed to have shadows, right...? But, um, I don't have any either... I don't look like any of my family, but I look a lot like you, mister eye-stealer..." Said with the faintest hint of accusation to his normally disinterested voice, he narrows his eyes to stare at Chittertongue as though awaiting an explanation.

RATHER SLEEP THAN STAY AWAKE
————— ☾ —————

☾⋆⁺₊⋆ info ; visual

• //
  ​
• SWANKIT named for his pale fur, after his maternal grandmother.
  — he/him. 2 moons.
  — shadowclan kit.
  — quiet and dreamy.
  
  penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​

 

[Lynxjaw]

"Not all are born with shadows, little one, for that matters not." A husk of a voice breathes, gentle as New-Leaf breeze as he strolls up beside Magpiepaw. "It's not the color of your fur that's important, but what lies beneath it. We all learn to mend in with the shadows, one way or another." He knows Swankit would have no clue what he meant, but it mattered not. He himself was not born with shadows or dark features, adorned with chestnut and beige but he did sport black markings that cloaked atop of his large frame. Perhaps that could count, but not really. He could blend within the shadows good enough to catch prey, to sneak among enemies. With countless training, his stealth had grown and become more prominent, but he'd never measure up to other cats within the marsh. He stood out amongst the crowd, albeit his skills exceeded in other variations.
He settles himself along the cool floor of their camp, long legs tucked carefully beneath his hulking frame and plumed tail lay away from his torso. He silently listens to the conversation at hand, nodding in agreement. "Ah, yes. My mother was a lot darker than I. She had a coat as stark as a night with no stars to her with eyes like myself. But, I did not get such colors. Perhaps my father and I could pass as twins, a shame I never knew him." He speaks warmly of her, his mother that he'd never see again as she had passed to sickness and no father to reel him in, Lynxjaw had found himself alone until joining the marshland cats seasons ago. Though a yearning lurks there, he had always wanted to meet his father and gauge him, but he was sure that day would never come. "You're both worthy as you are, different colors or not. Be proud of it and be proud you are born to ShadowClan, that's all that matters."

​

[ DESOLATION COMES UPON THE SKY ]​

 

[Emberpaw]

Ember liked Applekit, though she didn’t know her well. The youth tended to like most cats who crossed her path, so perhaps it wasn’t much of a compliment, but who could say. She’d seen Applekit all by herself, and had thought about asking her to play again, when the youth called out to a passing warrior. Emberkit didn’t know most of the warriors well. There were so many! But I’ll learn them eventually, she thought. The longer she stayed in Shadowclan, the easier it was bound to get. Applekit began to question the pale-furred tom, though it was nothing Ember could find particular interest in. The conversation was of family and similarities, and it seemed a bit serious, so she hung back rather than interrupting as she’d originally planned. Shadows, no shadows, mothers and fathers and what they looked like. It was definitely an odd conversation. Emberkit had trouble remembering what her mother looked like sometimes. She was hopeful most days that she might somehow found her and her sibling, even now. Would i recognize her if she did? Would she recognize us? Ember hoped that she would. It made her heart hurt, imagining otherwise. At least she had Chilledstar now.

Lynxjaw had added his own parentage to the mix, but he’d said something else that caught the child’s attention. He said to be proud, proud of themselves and proud of their birthplace. Emberkit had not been born in Shadowclan. She couldn’t remember a set birth place at all. But Lynxjaw had just said that being born in Shadowclan was all that mattered. I wonder what that means for me? She frowned slightly, mulling over this new information.

 

[Crowkit.]

Crowkit had slunk over, eavesdropping on an uninteresting conversation. He found this place a bit boring compared to the Carrionplace, and limited in what he could do. He wasn't quite sure why he observed the rules, but he did anyway for the most part. All he could do was step paw outside the nursery and see what was occuring.

Feathery ears tuned in to the conference of colors and parents and eyes, and his mismatched ones peered at Chittertongue's own differing eyes as he spoke. He recognized little of the warriors, but the wobbling Magpiepaw he had met his first day here was near impossible to forget. Swankit's drowsy, faintly accusing tone brought Crowkit's gaze to Magpiepaw and his vivid blue eyes. He ponders for a moment if he lacked color or not, as he was black as shadows themselves.

A warrior of chesnut and browns approaches, and he found himself deeply investigating the differing hues of pelts and eyes of anyone near. It was all a bit suspicious and weird. Creeping closer to the small crowd, he sits himself a bit behind Emberkit, drinking in all of Lynxjaw's big words. How curious. Crowkit tried not to think of his parents or family or whatever, but with the curious exchange, he couldn't help but wonder. Unbeknownst to him, Emberkit's thoughts and his nearly synced at Lynxjaw's words to be proud to be born in Shadowclan. "And what if we aren't?" He croaks the question, his voice squawking.
​

"speech"

 

[Magpiepaw]

Lynxjaw is dismissed with a glance away, the black and white apprentice hears the 'what matters is inside' threads of declaration and he is already tuning it out. His insides were broken, his legs did not work, his head drifted and his mind followed; the very idea that what was inside was most important mattered not in a world where the outside kept you alive longer. He was prey before predators, a chirping bird in a den of lions. But he had his sensibilities still and Swankit's curious note of eye-stealing and fitting the name of their clan falls to tatters as he hears Crowkit's curious question, writ across the face of himself and the other lost kitten brought in not too long ago. When he was a kit himself he was found in carrionplace, discarded waste and left to die, unwanted and burdensome but now he stalked forward with a stumbling bounce to approach the two younger cats; eyes darting and wary.

"...we are just as well as those born into shadow, for we chose it instead and what is more powerful than choice?" What kept him here in ShadowClan was his own decision, his own will and devotion. He could leave at any point, perhaps it leads to certain death but perhaps not, but Magpiepaw felt purpose in this clan; telling fortunes and keeping company with cats he cared for. His head lifts, white throat exposed as he hovers over Crowkit and Emberkit both with wide unblinking eyes. "What destined us to be here matters not when we hold the power to decide otherwise, that we remain from trash piles and wayward woods is a testament that we do not need ShadowClan. ShadowClan needs us."

​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Oh, oh am I? Applekit narrows her eyes at the strange cat. That was her question. She was asking. Did he not know? Applekit would never forget Smogmaw or Halfshade like that. Briar was a dark cat. She was! Applekit continues to look at him, shrewd look implying a go on.

This cat speaks nonsense, and Applekit very quickly decides it was a bad idea to talk to him. He speaks in looks, and nothing makes sense. My mother was not like me. None of my siblings are like me. Isn't that mysterious? Well, she supposes it is.

Magpiepaw echoes the thought for her, his wobbling form coming to gaze strangely at Applekit. Her brows pinch together, somewhat unnerved by him. He was weird, like that one kit. Applekit thinks about abandoning the operation altogether, in favor or taking a nap beside Halfshade. Anything but this. But her face slowly softens as Magpiepaw's words slowly dawn on her. They were sort of right.

A considering look is turned to her only brother that joins her, mumbling about how different they were. That's right. Swankit didn't have any hints of Smogmaw on him, and his stripes were too pale. " Right, " she affirms. She didn't have to, but she wanted to.

Not all are born with shadows, little one, for that matters not. Confusion twists on Applekit's face once agian. Warriors were supposed to tell you the right things, but it feels like not a lot of them do. " No, " she says, regaining the sharp edge in her voice. " If you don't have a lot of colors, all the prey will see you. " She doesn't really think about how that might make Swankit feel. She's just saying what the big cats had told her.

Not all big cats are good though, ShadowClan born or not. She looks askance to Emberkit and Crowkit. Thats a weird thing for a grown - up to say, she thinks. Magpiepaw speaks strangely and wisely. Applekit blinks at him with newfound consideration.​

 

[Emberpaw]

Crowkit echoes her thoughts into words, and Emberkit pads closer to him for the comfort that someone is thinking as she is. Magpiepaw suddenly turns to them, speaking swiftly and intently, albeit a tad strangely. Emberkit blinks at him in awe, her gaze caught in his wide stare. His speech, perhaps lofty or self-important to some, hits home for the young child. Shadowclan needs us. Though she had never thought much of it, tiny seedlings of insecurities to come deep in her belly were denied the ability to sprout. Emberkit had not thought about what it meant to be an outsider, to be born outside of Shadowclan, but Magpiepaw had assured her that really, it should mean nothing at all. She smiled brightly at the strange apprentice, and nodded her head.

Applekit still seemed a bit perturbed by the entire conversation. She challenged the idea that pelt patterns and designs did not matter, another thing Emberkit had not thought of. She would have to hunt someday, all of them would, and for some the task would be easier than for others. Id do okay, i think. A darkly patterned tabby, the shadows would accept her with at least semi open arms. But not everyone was like her, as this conversation was proving with each passing second.