private COASTLINES | sunflowerkit

[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit doesn't think much of her denmates. She has her siblings - and Burnetkit - and oftentimes that's enough. But as apprenticehood approaches and she grows more and more curious, she can't help but latch onto a few other unfortunate souls. Sunflowerkit, somehow, is one of them. The other doesn't speak much and the grey furred kitten opts for companions who can hold a conversation - but they interest her nonetheless. Perhaps their minimalistic way of speaking is enough at the end of the day? Cottonkit isn't sure, and unsurprisingly, she's more than willing to test the waters.

Sunflowerkit is due to be made an apprentice any day now, and Cottonkit is bursting with questions for the other just as she is with most of the kittens in the nursery. She takes chances as soon as she sees them, and she spies the other glancing over the fresh-kill pile. The grey kitten bounds over, confidence boosting her pace, before she settles in beside the other. She holds up a paw and points it at a bird perched atop the pile. "D'ya know how to pluck one of those yet?" she asks, hoping the elder feline would. "We should share one if you do. I could learn to do that and surprise the others in the nursery...!" She just needs to entice the other to spend some time with her, even if only a little. Questions and curiosities flow easily from little Cottonkit, so it's only time, just so long as she can secure the other kitten's attention.

[ @sunflowerkit ! ]​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerkit is not exactly known for making friends. They stick to those they already know. Yet the kit is not unkind, and will rarely turn someone away (unless of course, they are interrupting time with the cats they care about). So when Cottonkit catches them alone and seems to decide entirely without Sunflowerkit's input that the two are spending time together, the elder kit simply goes along with it, offering a polite bemusement in exchange for her boundless enthusiasm.

Cottonkit asks if they know how to pluck a bird yet, and Sunflowerkit is proud to know that yes, actually, they do. Vulturemask taught them not long ago, during one of his rare breaks where he is actually able to spend time with them. They give a small nod in response. "We should share one if you do," continues Cottonkit, and they blink a bit in confusion. Why? They don't know each other that well. But then the other kit continues: "I could learn to do that and surprise the others in the nursery...!" Ah, that makes sense. It's a fun idea, sounds like something Sunflowerkit themself would like to do. A second nod, this time with more surety behind it.

Sunflowerkit scrambles up the fresh-kill pile, seemingly giving little care to getting their tiny paws all over the prey. They clutch the blackbird between their teeth and drag it back down. For as much bigger than Cottonkit as they are, it still looks awkward to see the undersized kit carrying the catch in their jaws. They pull it back towards Cottonkit, then a bit farther, settling a short distance from the fresh-kill pile and beckoning to the other kit to join.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Sunflowerkit seems a little surprised to be addressed - Cottonkit's pride says it's because she's a daughter of Sootstar and Weaselclaw, and some simply get startled when royalty approaches them. Though, she also knows that her own soft pawed steps may have just stunned the other for a moment. She leans into her prior thoughts for a moment, mostly while the tannish kitten considers the offer, before hopping once on her paws when the other seems to agree to the proposition. No words, but that's just fine. Yes and no questions will have to work for now!

"I like moles more than I like birds," Cottonkit shares. Her first meal was a mole, after all, caught by well trained tunnelers at her mother's behest. Surely, however, Sunflowerkit already knows that. "But Swiftshrike said any food is good food right now," the gray kitten continues as Sunflowerkit descends the fresh kill pile and motions for her to follow. And she does, grateful that her little idea had worked thus far, and even moreso that making conversation out of nothing is easy as ever.

She tucks in close to the black bird, eyebrows briefly furrowed. She can vaguely understand how to start - in fact, she leans forward and grips a single feather in her maw, just to roughly tug it out of place and rip it in half. Furrowed brow remaining, she looks inquisitively towards Sunflowerkit.​

 

[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerkit hums a bit as Cottonkit tells of her preference for moles. They did not, in fact, know that. Sunflowerkit themself doesn't really have a favorite food; they're not picky, child of the harsh winter that they are, and they'll take what they can get. But Cottonkit is new, only recently started eating real food. It must all be very exciting for her. And she's the leader's daughter, she can probably pick and choose whatever she wants.

There's no resentment to the thought; it is simply the way that things are Besides, of all the options afforded to her by her mother's position, Cottonkit still chose to ask Sunflowerkit for teaching. There's a little glow in their chest at the thought. They like being the oldest of the nursery kits, like the idea of helping the younger ones. They'll be sad to leave, when they're apprenticed. They'll have to keep visiting the nursery, when they can.

Sunflowerkit sits back to let Cottonkit try first, watches as she tears a feather in half. There's a fondness at it, at the way that Cottonkit turns to them with befuddlement in her eyes. They move forward carefully and deliberately, eyes locking with hers. Watch, they seem to be saying. They lean down, eyes flicking to the blackbird for just a moment as they find their target, and push some of the feathers aside with a single paw so that Cottonkit can see better. Then they lean down, lock their jaws slowly around the base of a feather, just close to the skin.

They tug, and the feather comes loose. Sunflowerkit straightens and presents the feather triumphantly.

They set it by Cottonkit's paws, then speaks softly, muzzle still brushing the oil-slick black feather. They do not look up as they do so. "Try again? Their words are soft, barely more than a whisper, yet as encouraging as the kit can manage.​