camp breathless air // gifts

[ pls wait for @honeysucklekit and @brokenkit ♠ ! ]

Cottonpaw likes her little cousins. Their mother is... eccentric, but that's her aunt (and now her only elder in their family left.) She wants to be a figure in their lives in some way but it seemed that her work constantly got in the way. With the recent carnage, she had no time for kitten games! The apprentice mourned the hours in a day she'd spend with Whitedawn and whatever host of litters their Clan had at the time, being kitsitters whilst their queens were out stretching their legs. She does not think of the implications of her sorrows - how having children of her own would make like difficult in similar ways. She believes she could make it work... one day.

She ducks her head into the nursery, waving her tail vaguely in Rattleheart's direction as she recognizes the queen in the dim shadows. Her attention falls to her cousins instead, a wary smile given to their mother. "Might I steal them for the afternoon?" she asks, and the she-cat waves a paw. Perhaps something about needing time and space anyways - she's not sure. Nonetheless, Cottonpaw leads the two littles out into the clearing, where she has a few flowers set up.

"The wildflowers in the moors have started blooming again..." she starts, motioning to the few she has, "A good many of them have to stay in the medicine den, for those who are hurt or sick - but these ones, you guys can have...!" Cottonpaw would offer them to any wayward kit, too, but today she hopes to strengthen her bond with Honeysucklekit and Brokenkit.​
 
Dark lashes flutter to obscure sky-bright blues, a familiar freckled face imploring her mother to steal them- which to Honeysucklekit is a very weird way to ask to hang out. Fortunately, Mintshade doesn't seemed threatened by the prospect of having her children removed from the crook of her belly where they huddle like fragments of her shadow. Peeled away by a deft shove, the kit stares at her mother for a brief moment with pinched eyebrows.... Was she really such a bother? That she needed a break?

Cottonpaw doesn't really comment on it and dutifully, the vision of a well-behaved warrior, Honeysucklekit follows after her cousin to wince against the bright rays of the sun. A lilting voice that borders on song explains the joy of the regrowth of the heather and gorse fields... the fires that many hiss about are becoming something more alike a memory, though she can't say she has any recollection of it herself. Rather than fixate on the blooms the dusty she-cat fondly refers to, Honeysucklekit's wide emerald eyes follow the dappling along the medicine cat's nose up to the points of her fluffy ears...

Would she looks like that when she was bigger? Fluffy and soft... nothing quite as sharp as the burr-like mess she presented as now. "These ones, you guys can have...!" Blinking from her stupor, the slate-colored girl peers at the gifts presented. They have been handled with utmost care, not a single one missing a petal, the stems neatly clipped by delicate teeth. "Mmmm," she hums a tone of approval.

Her brother shifts beside her with his usual, sour expression, and she feels a sudden urge to apologize for his lack of excitement or enthusiasm but it remains firmly rooted behind her teeth. Brokenkit didn't really like it when she did that...

"Do you ever wear flowers, Cottonpaw," she asks instead, remembering the petals that adorned the too-still figures of clan-mates that had come and gone so swiftly in her short life. "Is that how come you smell so nice?" Honeysucklekit wanted to smell like whatever a honeysuckle actually was... Did WindClan have those? What did they even look like?


  • 'tokens of affection and memory...'
  • HONEYSUCKLEKIT
    - child of wind-swept moors
    - she/her
    - daughter to mintshade and gracklestep

    - a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes
 
————————————————————⊰♠♠♠⊱———————————————————
An unusual start to the day- someone has come to collect them, or rather, steal as Cottonpaw had put. A citrine stare flickered between Mintshade and his cousin, the former uncaringly gesturing them to leave and wordlessly he followed the motion beside Honeysucklekit.

INLAND EMPIRE - FAILURE

He felt no special indication that her willingly to toss them towards the medicine cat was out of maliciousness, but rather his mother's usual behavior. Though he normally faced the physical nudges and shoving his sister received, something uncomfortable stirred within seeing her in his place. He leaned a shoulder against hers briefly as he brushed past in silent comfort, contact so brief it may just appear accidental.

Cottonpaw drew them further out as she explained the return of blooms that had been singed away right before their birth. He thought of how he and Honeysucklekit would traverse the moors, and wondered if it would be enough time for the hills to have healed in that time.

Brokenkit followed her motion to stare at the assortment cautiously. He doesn't say anything, silent, and instead looked for something else to entertain his gaze. These flowers were... boring. It's not until Honeysucklekit provided a return for his interest. "No, too bitter." The inkling rasped without remorse. Cottonpaw didn't smell like nice flowers, he noticed more of the acidic scent of poultices that clung to her fur instead.

  •  

  • Brokenkit
    —⊰⋅ kit of windclan | 4 months
    —⊰⋅ he/him
    —⊰⋅ mintshade x gracklestep
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ sh solid black tom with yellow eyes

 
Neither seemed immediately interested in the blooms, which admittedly dampens some of Cottonpaw's excitement. Yet all the same, she spots flickers of curiosity in soft, kittenish gazes when she mentions the moors. Oh, how she hopes that come their apprenticeships, they'll be full bloom again - but seasons come and go, and if she has any sense in counting (which she should, given her rank,) the duo is sooner to find apprenticeship just as the grass grows brittle and dies once more. An inopportune time to have kits, though she supposes she cannot blame Mintshade for the fires.

Honeysucklekit asks her a simple question, and though Cottonpaw answers in kind - "I used to," - she cannot help the vague pang in her chest. Snakehiss had gifted her a flower. Petals that she wore until they wilted, and then sought out another to replace it before he noticed... She's not been gifted another since, not by friends nor romantically. And though it hurts to admit, the she-cat is almost grateful, too, that she has no suitor to entertain. Her former was... a mess. A mess that these children will never know.

"I work with Wolfsong, in the medicine den," she tries to further explain, "Lot's of the smells are -" Too bitter, as Brokenkit interjects, the young tom firm in his statement. Cottonpaw doesn't lose her smile, "Yeah, bitter, but some are almost as lovely as these. If you're not interested, Brokenkit, I can find you a couple of burrs instead!" The apprentice tries to joke with the child, not entirely catching just how offstandish he poses to be.​
 
Scorchstorm loves the wildflowers on the moors. They dot the hills and wave at her cheerily as she runs by, chasing rabbits or birds or butterflies. It's a romantic picture. One snuffed out by the black soot that choked the moors, at least for a while. Scorchstorm had choked on it, too, her lungs rasping from the smoke inhalation; Cottonpaw had been the one to clear her for warrior duty, she remembers, though she'd had her little caveat: no rabbit races. A shame it had been. At least she's back to it now.

She's never thought of Cottonpaw as a friend, though she had never thought her unfriendly, either. They'd just never been close. But now that she spends more time with Sootstar's ilk, she sees more of Cottonpaw in Bluefrost; sees more Bluefrost in Cottonpaw. It draws her closer now, amber gaze warm as it coasts over the medicine cat apprentice and then the kittens she has gathered.

The kittens seem... not so interested in her gifts. Honeysucklekit perks up at the wildflowers, asking Cottonpaw kitten questions, and Brokenkit (Mintshade's choice of name still baffles her) rejects the stems with a simple comment. No, too bitter. Cottonpaw is light at the tongue with a playful riposte, and Scorchstorm's black lips twitch upwards, head tilting with intrigue for her proposal.

"My favorite wildflower is the poppy," she offers, white-tufted tail twitching. "It smells nice and sweet, and it's bright orange. Like me." Her chin lifts with her grin. She plays up her investment in the things, hoping it might get the kittens enthused, but she glances sidelong to Cottonpaw too, wondering if the other she-cat would appreciate the interjection. "Plus, butterflies like them. Have you two seen a butterfly yet?"
u9a4dSL.png

  • ooc.
  • SCORCHSTORM —— warrior of windclan, mentored by sunstar & badgermoon . scorchstreak x badgermoon . littermate to rumblerain, frostwind, and luckypaw ✦ penned by meghan

    a broad-shouldered tortoiseshell with low white and dual-toned amber eyes. extremely loyal to sunstar and her family, and enjoys a deep connection to the moorlands
    demigirl / she they pronouns / lesbian / 14 moons & ages every 1st
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
    —— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. fights honorably and with great ferocity. can tank a few hits, but is not the sturdiest cat in windclan. starts fights with the intention of finishing them permanently, but will not aim to maim or kill obviously young cats

    "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
    full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
 
————————————————————⊰♠♠♠⊱———————————————————
His cousin continued like the gentle breeze in affirming his own insightful interjection. Brokenkit nodded his head to his sister at the confirmation, a silent I told you so. But then Cottonpaw goes on to say she had other things to offer, that aren't flowers or herbs, but burrs. He had never seen one before not that he would know, but he didn't have to.

"Mintshade says... we're burrs." Brokenkit said with a shake of his head. He didn't need anymore of whatever that meant.

Scorchstorm approached to include her own supportive statement. Brokenkit didn't understand what was so special about them, his older Clanmates seemed to adore every aspect of each little plant. Wearing them, rolling in them, sharing them, gifting them. But what about prey? Or moss and gorse? He would much prefer being gifted a meal than a smelly flower.

"No." Brokenkit answered dully, his chest heaving with a long sigh. He would much rather be somewhere else, now.

  •  

  • Brokenkit
    —⊰⋅ kit of windclan | 5 months
    —⊰⋅ he/him
    —⊰⋅ mintshade x gracklestep
    "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
    —⊰⋅ sh solid black tom with yellow eyes

 
Last edited:
Brokenkit is... just so sour... it makes Honeysucklekit grit her teeth nervously. She doesn't want to hurt Cottonpaw's feelings... even if maybe he's a little right that sometimes she stinks to high StarClan rather than the sweet scent that clings to her after harvesting these wildflowers. A fire-pelted warrior wanders over to interject about her favorite flowers, describing an affinity to their color and some sort of thing that enjoys them. A butterfly... it must be like a rabbit or something, right? She hadn't eaten one, that she knew of... Scorchstorm must not be a very good at hunting them then.

"Are burrs pretty," she inquires, persistent despite the rejection from Brokenkit. Momma says a lot of things that coast right over their heads, past ignorant ears. Glancing towards Scorchstorm, she scrunches up her nose curiously, lifting a paw to poke at the she-cat's leg, "Are you gonna catch us a butterfly?" What point was there in boasting about it to kits who couldn't leave camp to go fetch one themselves?

"What's a honeysuckle look like? I wanna see one- will you bring me one Cottonpaw, pretty please?" Her whining consists of more than just a shrill 'please', accompanied by an abrupt rise to her feet and stubborn brush her spiky-furred body against her cousin's leg.


  • 'idol of companionship and family'
  • HONEYSUCKLEKIT
    - child of wind-swept moors
    - she/her
    - daughter to mintshade and gracklestep

    - a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes