camp CAN'T GET COMFORTABLE ⁀➷ SETTLING IN

( ⁀➷ )  Fallow has to stay here so she can get better. So "Berryheart" can fix her, make her back stop hurting so she can walk again. There's wrappings where the owl's claws had dug in, and she's supposed to lay in a little nest that was made for her. Fallow feels very nervous about the whole ordeal.

She's at the edge of the healer's den now, away from the sickness that lurks inside, watching the strange clan cats go about their ways. There's too many of them, far too many of them, which means that she needs to keep an eye on everyone. The issue with being such an observer, however, is that some cats are more nosy than they should be. They try to talk to her sometimes. She doesn't like it very much. "Mama says don't talk to strangers," mumbles Fallow, golden eyes peering wary from the mouth of the medicine den. She squints at the nearest cat with what she is certain is a scathing scrutiny. Her face scrunches up, snaggletoothed lip poking out.

...Maybe she can take this as an opportunity. "So, mmm, you all gotta tell me who you are. Names and uh, some other stuff too. Gotta tell me if you're nice or not. 'Kay?" She gives the cat nearest her the most pleading look she can manage. You gotta, so you're not strangers anymore." And so she can learn all their secrets and go tell her mom once she's out of here.

Which will be soon, hopefully.
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  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOW. THUNDERCLAN KIT. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCRAGGLY, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. CURRENTLY IN THE MED DEN, RECOVERING FROM AN OWL ATTACK.
 
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Since Fallow had been brought back to camp, Leopardtongue had done her best to try to keep an eye on the kitten while simultaneously staying as far away from Berryheart's den as possible, the fear of getting sick and the smell of those who were keeping her away. She didn't know how the other could do it day after day, sitting in that mixed scent of plants and disease only to have to be in there day after day to make sure they were okay - not to mention those who needed normal checkups and those who got injured on top of it. Despite this, she found herself near the den today, curious about whether their newest member would be okay or not - an owl was not an easy thing to heal from for a full grown cat, let alone a kitten as small as she was.

Mama says don't talk to strangers, a soft smile came to her maw as she heard these words, and a quick nod habitually came from the queen, her ears pricked as she looked over towards the other once more, "She sounds like a very smart cat." Leopard would muse. A soft hum came from her as Fallow continued on, and she would think for a moment of something she could tell the other besides her name. "My name's Leopardtongue," She'd begin with this, tail curling beside her as she soon found herself lying down near the other, a short enough distance away so they could speak but not so close as to scare the other, "I think I'm nice, and there's a lot of other nice cats here too... some other nice things are the leaves that are falling now, they're fun to stomp on and listen to them crunch." Maybe once Fallow was better they could crunch leaves together.

  • "speaking" // thinking // action
    Leopardtongue - 35 moons - she/her - Queen of ThunderClan
    heterosexual - taken by Batwing
    penned by tikki
 
ThunderClan's camp is stranger than any story. They have giant bushes with skinny bases called trees here, and somehow they stay floating above camp with their heavy branches and long shadows. How would they sleep at night with all that rustling? The gorse surrounding WindClan was enough for the little seal point; anything more and they'd get lost in all the plants, or worse gets tangled and stuck forever!

Ever since all their nursery-mates had been (unceremoniously) dropped off in the ThunderClan camp, they'd stayed with what they knew: the nursery. Everything else was shadowed and dappled and weird, but at least the nursery held some semblance of the milk-scent and warmth of the WindClan one.

Finchkit or Pink-kit had dragged them out today, or maybe even Rivekit; they can't quite remember under the scrutiny of hooded golden eyes. "Um, okay." Downykit is too slow to get up and leave, and the other kitten continues despite just telling them she isn't to talk to strangers. Another cat leans in, a big brown spotted one with same-y eyes. "I'm Downykit," they tack on after the molly, whose name she claims is Leopardtongue.

To be honest, they're not too determined to be a not-stranger, but they can't stand being quiet and looking mean either. Not that they could, with their pool-wide eyes and round little fce. Still, they must add, "I'm nice too. I promise." Downykit tries for a smile. "Um, wait, leaves aren't crunchy." They blink up at Leopardtongue, a slight frown settling in place of their smile.​
 
It’s her! The source of Downykit’s problems! Pink-kit and alll her siblings had just got here, like, yesteryear, and it was hard to decide if she wanted to stay with her family and not talk to no one because they were ThunderClan (read: not as cool as WindClan) and smelled super gross, or if she wanted to run off and discover allll of their secrets! Thing is, cowering and talking to no one gets super boring and it was already super boring getting carried to ThunderClan. She’s not gonna get here and do MORE boring stuff forever.

Pink-kit doesn’t know what’s going on when she gets to the weird scruffy brown cat. Apparently they’re saying names, so she’ll say her name too. " I'm Pink-kit! " And also, they’re talking about how nice they all are. " I'm super nice too! Unless you cross me! " she adds extremely scarily. Since she was basically an apprentice soon, she needed to get used to being scary and stuff. So… she isn’t a stranger anymore. " I would never be a stranger! I’ll kill all strangers! " she boldly declares. She then whips around threateningly to the ThunderClan warrior… but then she remembers that she just said her name was Leopardsung or something so she guesses they aren’t a stranger either. Fine.

And she says something suspicious about crunchy leaves… That doesn’t make any sense! " Yeah, they’re not crunchy! " she agrees. " Or do you have weird ThunderClan leaves? Our leaves are um, spiky! " Actually, what is a leaf? Maybe she's thinking of the wrong thing?

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  • NOTE: SHE IS A FEVER COAT BABY!
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  • ( I MISS YOU, IT'S MAGIC! ) PINK-KIT KIT OF WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER TO BRIGHTSHINE & HEAVY SNOW. SISTER TO HEATHKIT, DOWNYKIT, & FINCHKIT.
    —— SHE / HER; UNOPPOSED TO THE USE OF OTHERS
    —— CURRENTLY 2 MOONS OLD. AGES EVERY 16TH

    A tiny, longhaired calico she - kit with yellow eyes, ringed blue around her pupils (sectoral heterochromia). While you can clearly see her flame markings on her face, the rest of her body is currently covered by a grey fever - coating. Though the whites of her are still very much visible. Pink-kit bounces around WindClan without a care in the world! Her emotions are big, and she makes little effort to regulate them, resulting in both her usually cheerful disposition, as well as making her prone to sudden bouts of extreme anger or sadness. Rarely seen without a smile!
    HEAVY IC OPINIONS! Pink-kit is a very irrational and childish character!​
 
This camp feels claustrophobic. Heathkit hates the way the trees and bracken hang over them—as if there was something to hide. The scent that these unfamiliar cats carry is heavy and thick. So much of this new environment screams secrecy. Heathkit misses the openness of her home. She still cannot shake the idea that whatever drove them out of their home would soon come here. And it would be hard for them to notice them coming right away with all the hiding places there are around here.

So Heathkit only ventures out after her siblings when she feels the need for fresh air and to try to replicate the camp she had lost. She pads along after Pink-kit and Downykit until they approach a brown she-kit with scores of healing wounds down her back. Heathkit's hackles raise almost immediately, not so much out of aggression, but more out of unease. Their words go by unnoticed by her, but she lashes her tail and steps close to Downykit, eyes bearing a glare.

 
( ⁀➷ )  Good, the cats are cooperating, answering her question. Fallow is pleased. There's the mud-splashed cat from before, from a day whose memories are covered in a hazy fog, a distance born of fear and a want not to think of what caused the wounding on her back. The dappled cat answers well; her name, that she thinks she's nice (honest, and giving room for Fallow to be the final judge), and some wisdom about leaves. It nods, satisfied. She lies down near it, but there's enough space to keep Fallow from tensing up. She can stay, it decides.

But oh, here come some smaller cats to ruin it. First is "Downykit", who's fine until they say something that is decidedly untrue (and stupid). Fallow's face scrunches up once again, a mix of displeasure and confusion. Another cat, far too loud, joins in to confirm, drawing Fallow to speak again. "Nah, the uh, the big lady - " Wait, no, she asked for names. She needs to remember those now, they're important. "Mm, Leopard's Tongue's got it. All the good leaves are crunchy. Not spiky. Must not have any good ones where you two're from." Spiky leaves make Fallow's paws hurt; an underbrush full of nothing but spiky leaves sounds horrible. She almost feels bad for them.

A disdainful gaze sweeps back to the two other kittens, narrowed and unimpressed. She considers "Pink-kit"'s answer carefully, nice unless you cross her. Fallow would say much the same. Maybe that should make them kindred, but Fallow thinks otherwise. "But what if you decide I'm a stranger? D'you even know my name, Pink-kit?" She hasn't introduced herself, of course. She's not telling these strange cats any more than she has too.

And neither, it seems, is their fourth guest. Standing out like a speck of snow come too early, the silent kit draws Fallow's wary gaze. "And what about you? Angry cat." The one glaring at her, hiding behind Downykit, tail lashing. She bares her teeth in response. "Guess you're not nice then, huh?" It'd be dumb to think everyone here would be; that's why she asked.
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  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOW. THUNDERCLAN KIT. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCRAGGLY, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. CURRENTLY IN THE MED DEN, RECOVERING FROM AN OWL ATTACK.
 
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Pink-kit's voice sounds not too far beyond them. Had she wandered off, only to remember that she was supposed to be bothering them? Sapphire-glass eyes stay settled upon the stranger kitten's face, which scrunches and crinkles in the middle like the dead leaves they don't believe in. Something in their chest twists too, flutters; a feather swinging back and forth in the space between their lungs, tickling their insides disconcertingly. The ThunderClan kitten reminds them too much of Featherkit.

The brown-faced girl asserts the existence of leaves despite their other sister asserting the existence of leaves that definitely don't exist. Downykit thoughtfully tilts their head though. "I dunno..." They send a questioning glance towards the calico besides them. "We...we could have spiky ones. Um, they could be as good as crunchy ones. I think a lot of places have good leaves." Pink-kit would probably say that WindClan has the best leaves, even though they don't really have leaves at all, only lots and lots of grasses. Maybe grasses were just really thin leaves?

Downykit almost doesn't notice Heathkit until she's right up behind them, the tips of their fur poking like heavy branches bowing to the sedge. ThunderClan Kit starts to question their siblings a little more harshly. A little too harsh. "Hey, um, no," they immediately begin. "That's Heathkit, she's nice too. Um, most of the time." And ThunderClan Kit is also be angry and not nice, but they can't bring themself to point it out to her. "She can't hear you." They bite their lip. Maybe it's a good thing that Heathkit can't hear them not sticking up for her like Pink-kit or Finchkit would. All they can lamely tell this kit is that she's nice, not that she's being mean. "Maybe you could, um, tell, tell us your name? And then you wouldn't be a stranger, and Heathkit could know, and, um..." Downykit trails off lamely, tail curling around their paws.​
 
╭──── ⋅ ⋅ ──── 。・゚゚・ ─── ☀︎ ─── ・゚゚・。 ──── ⋅ ⋅ ────╮
Everything is so different here, and even just hanging around in camp is almost enough to make Finchkit's head spin, to make her whole body spin, turning and turning in circles until she can see everything at once, even through the dizziness. She doesn't do that, of course, even if she really, really wants to, instead settling for drifting about, examining anything that catches her attention. Hardly noticing that she's floated away from her siblings, a strange voice carries her back over, earth-dipped paws curiously coming to a quick halt next to all of her littermates and some strange ThunderClanners. Almost absentmindedly, she twists her tail alongside Heathkit's side, trying to comfort as much as greet as she catches up to whatever they've all been doing without her. (Rude! She wasn't even gone for that long!)

It's quickly apparent that introductions are underway, though Finchkit can't help but to wrinkle her nose at Pink-kit first. "What'ya mean you're gonna kill all strangers? How could you even do that? There's a lot of strangers, you know." Like all these cats that had let them stay here, for one; they weren't bad strangers. The rogues that had invaded their home, on the other paw... "I'll help you with all of 'em keeping us from going home!" And she means it - she really does. Even if this place is new and bright and shiny and ripe for exploration, that doesn't mean Finchkit wants to stay here forever or anything like that. If only all it took was enthusiasm - surely they'd be home by now, between Pink-kit and Finchkit and Rivekit, too. Well, better not waste however long they had just sitting around and thinking!

"I'm Finchkit - we're all siblings. What about you - do you have any siblings?" Off on a tangent immediately, Finchkit's attention lingers on this strange kit, hardly sparing Leopardtongue more than a curious glance - there'd be more time for that later. Right now, she intends to capitalize on this conversation she may-or-may-not have been invited to in the first place. "I think the crunchy leaves are fun, but the spiky ones at home are definitely better!" she inserts helpfully, as though she knows anything about the subject. This is the most exposure to leaves she's had...well, ever, and even if she'd remain adamant that the leaves back home are better, it is true that the ones that crunch and crumble beneath your paws are a whole lotta fun.

So caught up in leaping into the conversation, it's only now that Finchkit notices the cobwebs draping over the other kitten's back, swathing its sides as though its trying to envelop her. It's...kind of like the other cats that had been hurt by the rogues, she thinks, though this stranger isn't from back home - she's sure of it! "Did the rogues come after you, too? They're all mean cats - they took our home away. We're gonna get it back, though - no way we'd just give up and let them have it forever!" And of this, Finchkit is assured; no matter what, WindClan won't just give up. This was a setback - nothing more, nothing else; only something intriguing for the moment, before they'd all be able to return and take their territory back from vicious rogues that had pried it away from them so callously.​
  • OOC: --​
  • Untitled358_20230906125307.png
  • EEHinuI.png
    - Finch Finchkit
    - She/her (AFAB)
    - 3 moons
    - Loner Kit of WindClan
    - Hearty & scruffy chocolate lynx point with splashes of white and bright blue eyes
    - Art by Jay & base by googaoo respectively! <33
    - Minor powerplay allowed!
    - Penned by Hijinks​