camp breaking apart, but I gotta hold my legacy - bite tag

[owlpaw.]

He wanted to bite. His gums were sore, and biting something seemed rather pleasing. He didn't care to understand, he just focused on his impulses.

He did before he thought, which there weren't many thoughts on the chocolate silver tabbies head. Bite, Protect, Mama, Milk.

Sandpaws, Not Mamas. Owlkit.

'Bite' happened to be his favorite word, and he couldn't help but do it once it was said.

And somewhere, he had heard it, and his control leaked to nothing as he dove forward on an unsuspecting sandpaw, (actually robinpaw), with a black tail, and a lot of fur that seemed to protect a lot of the small felines tiny teeth.

There was another one, not far, a twitching skinny black and cream tail that he'd leap on, bowling it over and rolling over it a bit, yanking it a little as he ran back with a sudden poof of long fur as of startling himself from stumbling on his paws. (Dawnstorm).

This was fun. And he was so absorbed, he hadn't yet recognized their reactions.

His mismatched gaze was dilated, skittering left, before right then seeming to dive on yet another tail. A Sandpaw, smaller than the not mamas. A blue and black tail was next in his mouth, slobbering the fur up before ripping away to the front of his victims. (Otterpaw)

His chest panted as he stood before the group of not mamas and sandpaws that had previously been casually doing their thing, before his tongue raspberried at them. "All- IT!" He exclaimed, before racing off in a puff of snow, and bowling over his own feet as he tried to race from them.

He had lost focused, and filled with energy, had decided this must be tag. He had heard of the game, but never yet played it.

//
@DAWNSTORM @robinpaw. @otterpaw
No need to wait for them!

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[RAVENSONG]

Ravensong had never particularly enjoyed kits. And although he disagreed with the restriction of freedom of the first medicine cat code to forbid them from having children, Ravensong would have a difficult time imagining himself raising a litter. Perhaps, he wondered, in some other time, would he have had such a chance with Dovethroat? The darkly-pelted cat tried to shake it off, the feeling of loss cutting at his heart like a claw.

He tried to distract himself by tracking Owlkit's erratic movements about the camp as he latched on with his little teeth on several different Clanmates. Ravensong stifled a little chuff of laughter, curling his tail tightly around himself so he would not fall victim. A kit would get a quick bap of his paw if they tried to bite him. He was in no mood, but there was amusement in watching others fall victim to the innocent game.

"You ought to try... tagging Smokestar." The medicine cat called after the kit in a tease. That would be a sight.

☾₊ ⊹ темная ночь — dark is the night

•  
• 
  RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN — LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.
  
  — born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.
  
  — secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them" — openly suffers from chronic migraines — single, but "it's complicated"

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[robinheart]

Robinpaw finds herself enthralled in a casual conversation with her fellow RiverClanners, so much so that she fails to detect Owlkit’s approach until it is too late - sharp needles find purchase in her plush tail and cause the apprentice to nearly jump out of her pelt. Panic briefly flashes in citrine eyes before melting away to amusement once she realizes it is only a kit trying to play with the group of apprentices and warriors.

Robinpaw quickly grooms her ruffled tail before pushing herself to her paws and watching Owlkit race around chomping on a couple other tails before proclaiming everyone ‘it’ and racing off. Certainly an interesting game of tag but the older apprentice could indulge the little one for a spell. “Well ready or not, here I come!” Robinpaw purrs as she sets off after Owlkit, keeping a slower pace as to not immediately catch up with the young kit - that would make the game rather boring and she decides letting him run around a bunch will tire him out for the queens in the nursery.

As for Ravensong’s suggestion, Robinpaw snorts a quiet laugh to herself at the mental image of Owlkit biting Smokestar’s tail. As if Smokestar needed more reasons to watch his back from sneak attacks…

 

[otterbite]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- Otterpaw had played his fair share of bite tag during his short stay in the nursery. Days of teething as he lost canines and molars leaving his jaw aching for pressure against them. Petalnose had been a fine contributor in the times she would let them 'fight' but eventually he had to move onto more practical things that were not his Clanmates. Broken pieces of shells, stones and hard reeds had been most common.

Never had Otterpaw believed there would be a day he received what he had given as a kit. Sure enough, needle-sharp teeth nip at his tail and his claws score against the sand where Owlkit stood a second before. Just a tad too slow to strike sense across kitten fluff. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he locked onto Owlkit's fleeing form. His Clanmates are kinder in their response but his maw has twisted into something more sinister already.

Quietly he prowled around Owlkit as he bounced around camp before making a leap trying to pin Owlkit against the sand. "Ready for me to bite back this time?"

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── IM OUT OF CONTROL ⋅❁⋅ OH, HOW I BURN FOR YOU ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• 
  OTTERPAW ✩ he/him, apprentice of riverclan, eleven moons.
  ⭃ scruffy blue/black chimera with white undercarriage and green eyes. noticeable kinked whiskers
  ⭃ adopted son to pikesplash // apprentice to coyotecreek
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay requires permission / / underline and tag when attacking or making an action toward
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by beatae ↛ gonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[DUCKPAW]

Another day at camp... Duckkit would think to herself mirthfully. Another day scorned by the vengleful leaf-bare wind, another day where Duckkit would search the constant ebb-and-flow of clanmates, looking for something or someone lively to engage with. An arguement, news from the other clans, something with potential to shatter the dull hum-drum of time as it was currently slipping by her. Chomp. There it was, green eyes darted to the source of the sound and zeroed on Owlkit. Duckkit watched her denmate scamper around the camp, nipping the tails of unsuspecting victims. Owlkit was fast, and unpredictable. Duckkit would've had a hard time tracking his path were it not for the trail of indignified yowls that formed a sporadic trajectory from one end of camp to the other. Duckkit raised her paw to her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh at Ravensong's suggestion. What she suspected to be an aimless mission to relieve the pressure of forming teeth, quickly turned into a game of 'tag'. She would watch, wide-eyed as Owlkit inccurred the wrath of all his victims, and they would dart around with much more grace, attempting to sudue the assailant. Duckkit felt her paws itch. In the same way Owlkit seeked to relieve his growing teeth, Duckkit would seek to relieve her need to feel her paws pounding on the earth. She was really outgrowing the confines of this camp.

As Otterpaw dove at Owlkit, that was all she needed to be set off. Prancing across the snow, and stumbling, she approached Otterpaw and Owlkit. Just as Otterpaw made his dive, she would tactlessly attempt to crash into Otterpaw's front legs to throw him off course. Duckkit would laugh, realizing that this had not been executed like she had hoped, but she had intended to save her rambunctious denmate from his fate. "Run Owlkit!" She would shout, had she succeeded.​

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"speech​

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