pafp CLOCKWORK CITY | flowers

[SOOTSPOT]

It had started with a black sun, swallowing the light as an omen for things to come. Next, it had been a fire, ravenous as a hound, taking most of what he had loved about WindClan. Next came a plague, threatening the lives of all those harebrained enough to remain close to the sick. Sunstar. Scorchstreak. Cottonsprig. Any prophet could see them as the founder of the moorland's misery, perhaps even that StarClan feared their destruction enough to grant them something they did not deserve - a chance to speak with the ancestors. His 'concerns' had likely not reached the ears of his children, but then again, neither had WindClan's depression. He did his best to make their lives as perfect as possible, a reward for unconditional love, though, he knew in a few moons time, his control over such things would wane, and it would be up to his little ones to navigate the lies of their mentors and see reason. But worries did not grace the chimera's mind that day.

As he prowled back into camp, flower stems pinned between his teeth, little held his attention other than pride in his home, the very kingdom he would be set to rule once the stars aligned for him. Wordlessly, he shifted towards the Nursery's entrance, gentle nudging Heatherkit with a paw. She was the first of his children he saw, so she would get the lesson first - though, he would not be opposed if others remained just past his vision. If the point looked up towards him, he would smile. The tom lowered his head, settling the bouquet onto the ground. Within his grasp had been four different flowers: a long stem with small purple blooms bundled upon it, a white flower with star-shaped petals, a pink flower shaped like a bird and a long grass with yellowed seeds at its tip. He watched in silence as he invited the other to examine them, sincerity gripping at his heart. 'If these are to mine by right... one day... they will be yours too.' With that in mind, it was important for her to know exactly what they were. He cleared his throat to get her attention. "Can you guess which one you were named after?"

@heatherkit

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[heatherkit]

( ⊱✿⊰ ) the lynx point is sitting beside the nursery as she often does on days similar to today. her pink tongue smoothes gently over frost and slate hued fur, ivory teeth nibbling at invisible knots the girl is convinced still litter her pelt. she's been at this latest grooming session for a while now, long enough for her father to slip out of camp to perform warrior-ly duties and come back, a bouquet gripped between his teeth. heatherkit almost doesn't look up as sootspot prowls toward her, but his familiar scent floods her nose as she swipes a paw across her ears, and so she will immediately find his form, adoration filling her gaze. "papa!" she purrs, delight in every honey-soaked word. "you're back!" the little girl presses into her father's touch as he gently nudges her, all too eager to show off her love.

he sets down a bundle of flowers, pale purples mingling with gold and pink in a pretty posy. the girl lowers her head to softly sniff the plants, fluffy tail tip twitching as the scents of the great beyond flood her senses. her papa speaks and her head raises again, at attention once more. "ohh," she hums, head tilting to the side to examine the gifts. he is preparing her for her future, she knows. this is a test, an exam to find out if she is truly the daughter of a prince. and, of course, she is.

"the white one is so beautiful, shaped like the stars, and the pink is, hmm, enchanting," she's heard that word from one of the nursery queens. it sounded fancy, fabulous like the very flower she speaks of. "i think this one," paw upon the grass, "is not it, because you said my name is a flower." she feels clever in her deduction, and she glances back up at the chimera tom for approval. "i like the purple ones the best, so i guess those." hope brews in her belly, slate-blue paws gently kneading the ground in curiosity.

SAY WHAT YOU WANT ⊱✿⊰ BUT SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT

• // "#b2a0bc"
• 
  
  
• HEATHERKIT ⊱✿⊰ SHE / HER, WINDCLAN. DAUGHTER OF SOOTSPOT, SISTER TO BRAMBLEKIT, NIGHTKIT. 3 MOONS, PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  
  a longhaired blue lynx point with blue eyes. her body is cloaked in pale snow-white fur, a storm of blue flooding her face, tail, and paws. stripes of darker blue accentuate her eyes nose, and band around her legs. shining eyes stare out from the angular shaped face, a deep, faded blue color.
  

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[SOOTSPOT]

The tom was silent, curious, as Heatherkit examined the flowers set out before her. For a brief moment, he could see himself, his heart warming at the mirror image set out before him. Tangling with new concepts was daunting for many, convinced otherwise great animals to commit to mediocrity, yet, there was no such hesitation in his daughter. She was destined for greatness, a Soot in all but name. Her answer was justified, pragmatic, and the chimera sat motionless, waiting for any slither of doubt to crawl into the point's features. Then, a black paw aimed to ruffle the fur upon Heatherkit's head. "And that is why you are my favourite," he mewed, a smile curling upon muzzle. Sootspot didn't know if he wanted to encourage such competition - when they were meant to be unified he did not want to breed resentment... yet, some of it seemed healthy, made them strive to be better.

He bowed his head. "You are right, that is a heather. When WindClan burned, they were the first flower to be born anew - a hardy little thing, they are the flower I cherish most among the moors." Doubly so, now that his flesh and blood was named after one. Sootspot pushed the purple flower thoughts, gesturing with his tail for the kitten to take it, should she wish. A gift. "This one is called 'bedstraw'," he pointed to the white flower once Heatherkit had decided what to do with his offering. "This one is sedge," he pointed to the grass-like plant. "They are still special... in their own ways." The tricoloured tom couldn't claim to know the detailed differences between the two though. He knew so much of the physical world and yet so little, his understanding smothered by the inability to see beyond its limitations.

His tail tip twitched, agitated, but hiding it behind a smile. "When you are an apprentice, it will be leafbare, but you will see many of these flowers as the cold disappears. I can collect as many for you as you want, or... I can save them as a surprise. The choice is yours, little Thea."

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[bunnypaw]

There is little jealousy to be had in the oversized body of Bunnykit. She watches with misted yellow eyes as Sootspot and his daughter have a moment together - something sweet to see, no doubt. Such is not to say that the child does not harbor negative emotions. She struggles with confusion and dissatisfaction but none of it is towards the cats who have more. If anything, it is all towards herself. Am I not enough? Her family is effectively halved in this epidemic following the death of her father - is it her fault, somehow?

She presses a scruffy paw to the tear that runs down her cheek. There's a small sense of courage in her chest, and though she recalls Rattleheart and Scorchstreak both snapping at Sootspot in the past, she seeks approval from the tom. Her tall ears flatten to her cranium as tries to edge into the conversation.

"Sootspot?" she addresses him, tail curling around her hindleg. "What... What happens to bunnies when it gets cold?" Bunnykit hopes for a strong answer, but given what she's already been told, her heart preemptively sinks. Her strength and courage each fade in the moments following her inquiry, and so does the kitten shrink, still obediently waiting for an answer.​

 

[SEDGEPOUNCE]

"They do exactly what we do," Sedgepounce proclaims. A bundle of heather falls to his paws, though this is hardly the curated bouquet which Sootspot has bequeathed to his downy-pelted kit. Something sour within him convinces Sedgepounce that Sootspot might say something terrible in response to Bunnykit's question. He doesn't know why. Sootspot has never been anything more than neutral, if somewhat stuffy. It's an immediate, gut reaction; something cold and bitter which compels him to think the worst of Cottonsprig's notorious elder sibling.

Dutifully, Sedgepounce faces the nursery wall. It's apprentice work, but working paws are in short order given the state of things. He doesn't mind helping out.

Lifting a stalk of heather in his teeth, Sedge starts weaving into the gorse, repairing where sun and wind have thinned the wall. "Leafbare is hard for everyone, even bunnies. So they either hang out in their burrows...or they gotta brave the cold to look for food." He spares a glance to Sootspot, Heatherkit, and Bunnykit. He wonders whether the former will turn her nose up at his meager explanation like he half expects her father to, but that particular thought sends a bolt of cold shame through him, so he silently returns to his work, chastised.
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