camp COMMUNITY GARDENS ✺ RETURN WITH KITS

MOLTFACE

L♡VELY BASTARD
Jun 12, 2024
8
4
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Moltface felt that she had a sense for these things, somewhat.

The birds crow their normal call. Humid heat rises all around them, even if the sun would try to convince you of its absence, with how it hit itself beneath dreary clouds. Greenleaf has given them the privelege of having a full belly today, and they can groom themselves in relative quiet. Any noise wasn't the unwelcome sort, boorish and mind - numbing. She quite enjoyed her time with Mockingbirdcry, and there was a small section of ShadowClan that could be the entertaining sorts... No, she had nothing to fear. Nothing to wait for. Nothing she was looking for... And yet she finds herself gazing out toward the bramble walls of camp, and sees them shudder mere moments after she does so.

Half - lidded eyes round in surprise as he counts one, two, three — five cats entering camp, each with kits dangling from their jaws. Some of them look perfectly healthy... others look as if they've been starving for moons, despite being nowhere near that old. Moltface is hardly the proactive sort, but the sight is strange enough to drag him from his lounging for a closer look. He cranes his neck at them curiously. Before the queen even utters a word, they're dipping their nose towards the scrappiest looking of the kits, sniffing insistently.

Pink eyes flicker to the patrol. " What's this? "

OOC. backwritten to before Chilledstar's death as it takes place after this thread! tagging @HEMLOCKNOSE @BATCHASER @FERNDANCE @FORESTSHADE @THORNPAW @TRASHKIT #1 @Trashkit…2! @Trashkit 3!!! @TRASH KIT THE FOURTH & sniffing at @TRASHKIT 5. <3
 

It had been a no-brainer to bring the kittens back to ShadowClan, a maternal duty not done even as her oldest had almost finished growing. With one of the Carrionplace kittens gently hanging from her maw, the cinnamon tabby made a beeline toward the Nursery, ready to show off the find to Needledrift. There was so much to talk about with the little ones, their smell, their weight, how they were found - she wanted her mate to be the first to know, even if she doubted they could add them to their extended family. Her mate longed the return to Warrior duties, postponing it with an adoption story would likely not be the heartfelt gesture the cinnamon tabby thought it to be. A familiar creature stepped in her path and Ferndance paused in her tracks, her tail swaying to and fro. She looked to Moltface, her head tilt accompanied with an air of concern as he sniffed one of the little ones. "It's a kitten..." Ferndance responded in a near-whisper so as to not embarrass the queen further. She didn't understand how someone around baby cats all day could not recognise them, and emerald eyes never left the chimera as she tried to unpack the mystery before her.

The little ones were safe now, if Chilledstar had grown lax on rogues and loners joining, Ferndance did not see a world where they wouldn't allow the forest's most defenseless to join too. It was a relief that left her posture relaxed and heart far calmer than it had been at the scene of the crime. She placed the kitten onto the ground, ears suddenly flicking towards the sky in understanding. 'Pink eyes...' She remembered learning that vision was not the strong point of certain eye colours, and, with a polite (albeit strained) smile, she decided to keep Moltface's secret safe. Had the world around Ferndance been blurred and hazy, she did not doubt she would mistake the kittens for crowfood. "We found them in the Carrionplace covered in soggy bark. I don't know how long they were there, but they were... very loud, so I don't think it was for very long." Any longer and she doubted they would be having this conversation - Hemlocknose had saved five lives that day, whether the modest tom realised it or not.
 

The third of the discovered kits squirmed and writhed in a futile attempt to break the grasp of her chaperone. Despite the lack of food she was healthy enough to kick up a fuss, to portray her displeasure at being separated from her littermates. In the grand scheme of things this separation was only temporary yet her tiny mind wasn't aware of that right now.

To her this was the worst day of her very limited life experience, her fur was still damp despite it trying its best to repel the rain. Her stomach twisted in pangs of hunger in a manner that was too uncomfortable. Her freshly opened eyes were heavy, the pressure of sleep built upon exhaustion but she wouldn't fade to its whims yet. Rusty copper eyes narrowed in suspicion at the world around them, tiny head craning to try and intake what she perceived as adults. It was easy to become overwhelmed by the wide world surrounding her, after all she had only known the quickly collapsing cardboard box in the carrionplace up until now. ShadowClan camp was nothing like the hovel she had grown to call home, this change in scenery was undecided in her mind to be a positive or a negative thing.

“Mew!” Trashkit three grumbled as she began to squirm again, having grown satisfied in curiosity she returned to her tiny wrath again. Attempting to get some final protests out in the open air before the exhausting day finally caught up with her. Eventually it did, her protesting meows growing quieter as her future clan mates conversed.



(open for any of the returning party to be the one having to deal with her antics)
 
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A warrior patrol returns to camp, their jaws laden not with fresh-kill, but with bundles of fur swinging from their jaws midair. Marblepaw stops what she's doing, her ears pricked with curiosity. Moltface departs from where he'd been lying, his pink eyes shimmering as he asks where the children had come from. Ferndance places her bundle between her paws, explaining they'd been found in the Carrionplace, abandoned, hungry.

Marblepaw creeps closer, tasting the air and wrenching her nose. "They're cute, but they smell awful!" She smiles, though, as one wriggles, wrath awakened, mewing its displeasure. "Should we look them over first to make sure they're okay?" Green eyes seek her mentor's black-and-white pelt; surely Starlingheart would know better what to do than she would. Truthfully, she wouldn't know the first thing to look for...

  • ooc:
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  • Marblekit . Marblepaw, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 6 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
    — mentored by Starlingheart ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
    — shadowclan medicine cat apprentice, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
    — currently mated to n/a.
    — penned by Marquette.

    sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.


 
I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH — One minute, her senses were filled with the scent of fresh snipe, and the next moment they were filled with the scent of garbage. The smell was so strong that she actually let out a surprised cough, scanning around frantically for the source. The large patrol that had just arrived seemed most likely, but how could they smell so disgusting after a simple patrol unless they had been rolling in the rubbish occupying the Carrionplace? It wasn't until she grew closer that she realized the fluffy bundles in the patrol's muzzles weren't new pieces of prey for the pile, but were in fact kits. Her eyes immediately shifted into wide disks of surprise, a gasp breaking free of her muzzle. "Oh! Oh, they're so little." Looking down at them, it was difficult for Onyxpaw to envision herself ever being that size, even if she knew there was a time before she was a -paw.

Though in actuality, it was unlikely that she had ever been that size, seeing as she had never been as starved as this poor litter seemed to be.

Marblepaw's suggestion rang in her ears, seeming like the best idea when confronted with an undersized new batch of kittens that had evidently been abandoned. "I can't believe someone would just... leave them like that. Especially in somewhere like the Carrionplace." Her nose wrinkled as she spoke, the aroma of garbage still twisting her expression in unpleasant ways even as sympathy flared in her chest. "They should definitely be looked over, even if it's just to make sure they don't have anything on them. Think... think about all the bugs that are in that place." Aside from the bugs, it was no small miracle that the kits hadn't been discovered by rats, considering Onyxpaw was fairly sure they'd have no qualms with sinking their fangs into the discarded and bony bundles of fur.

Her attention turned towards Moltface then, figuring the permaqueen would be the foremost authority on this whole situation - aside from Chilledstar, of course. "They're too little for any solid food yet, right...? They look so tiny." Though it was difficult for her to properly gauge their ages, considering how stunted their growth must have been by the lack of food. They weren't voicing their demands through actual words though, which seemed enough of an indication to her that they couldn't be that old.


  • 75034637_eiCvVhxv9vQNT6l.png
    shorthaired tortoiseshell point and chocolate point chimera with blue eyes
    10 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    bisexual; crushing on yellowpaw
    daughter of monarchroot and sleetjaw
    shadowclan born; silently loyal to her home
    difficult to befriend; shy to most except yellowpaw
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
 
As Foamkit sees the little kittens being brought into camp by a patrol, their nose wrinkles slightly, a dismayed expression on their face. Not at the idea of more kittens in the nursery, though that's disappointing too given the chimera's less than personable way of going about life, but at the smell that the kittens are carrying on their pelts. They move a few steps backwards, away from the offending odor that the kittens were carrying from their time in the carrionplace. "Can't you just give 'em to someone else?" they mumble, voice quiet, mostly just complaining to themself; their voice carries a slight whine to it, not wanting have to spend time with these five new kits, even if its just during times they're all in the nursery.​
 
With one of the Carrionplace kittens hanging from his maw, gently as he could hold the little scrap. The lanky black smoke trudged behind his patrol, where their own mouths were full carrying mewling kits. Pushing through the fern entrance, with an ear flick before following after his cinnamon hued friend. He wants to drop the little one he was carrying off to a queen to nurse. He doesn't like seeing kits go hungry… It disturbs him.

Hidden eyes blink as he comes to a halt at the side of Ferndance. Seeing a face, he has not had any interactions with. Only a passing glance. Moltface. As the chimera questioned Ferndance about the kitten. Batchaser craned his neck forward, to carefully plant the kitten he was holding on the marshy ground near his paws. "They stink… Terribly." He scrunches his dark leather nose up at the garbage scent. Of course, they stink. They've been abandoned and surrounded by the disgusting scent of trash.

Heterochromatic eyes blink from under his curly fringe, as he heard Marblepaw's voice. He hummed at the apprentice’s suggestion, swiveling large ears up towards the young medicine cat. "Could… you and Starlingheart check them over?" He spoke with a smile curling upon his maw, as he glanced down at the wiggling bundle at his pale paws. Curling his whip-like tail close to his paws, he hums as Onyxpaw spoke of bugs of the Carrionplace. He's kind of useless at this whole kitten thing, he's a little bit lost on what to do. Lifting his head, turning to gaze to Moltface wondering what the permaqueen is going to do with the scraps.
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  • ( THAT'S ONE ENEMY DOWN! ) ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ BATCHASER.shadowclan warrior.
    cismale ; HE / HIM, fine with gendered terms. ; 32 MOONS & AGES EVERY 10TH.
    pansexual / not actively looking / open to crushes & romance
    a tall, shorthaired curly black smoke mix with gold/green heterochromatic eyes.
    battle notesthoughts ; "Speech, 7077A1" ; attacks only
    may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    smells like rain-soaked pavement, mist & sweet leaf rot
    — all opinions are ic

    biography / @ on discord for plots
    — penned by calzone
 
It gives her pause, the half - whispered utterance of, it's a kitten... as if the simple fact was some sort of secret to keep. A mildly bewildered gaze flickers toward Ferndance, the tawny she - cat looking oh - so - sincere in her assertion. It's too stupid for him to possibly be upset at. " And here I'd thought you've all brought me dinner, " a little breathlessly – too surprised at the notion to know what to do with his voice, he replies. Found in Carrionplace... His nose wrinkles at the notion. They certainly stunk of it — potentially of sickness, as well... In agreement with young Marblepaw, he hums. One of the kits squirms in their distress, perhaps offended by the loud assessment of their unpleasant smell... or perhaps not. A whiplike tail flicks idly behind the queen. For just a moment, a narrowed gaze gels over with quiet consideration.

They glance to Onyxpaw, incessant with her chatter, but only concerned, he knows... " Certainly, " they mew. " They can't be much older than a half moon or so... " A soft bluster of a sigh. Kits are lured by curiosity if nothing else, and as little Foamkit makes their appearance, Moltface has made up their mind. " A lovely idea, Foamkit, " with a languid blink, they wear their intentions clear on their face. " The nursery will get a little more crowded, then. "

Carefully tilting his head, he'd aim to take the scrappiest of the five by the scruff, skinny, with a pelt as black as the midnight sky... With a flick of his tail against Marblepaw's leg, he'd nod to the Medicine Cat's den. It'd make a nice early lesson for her, wouldn't it?

Maybe... Nightkit, something sweet and simple.
 

Gigglekit pushes her way to the front of the crowd that had gathered around her mother and the rest of the patrol that had brought with them a whole bunch of kittens. Despite her obvious excitement at the new development, Gigglekit still recoils at the smell that permeates the air around the new kits, and she looks to her mother curiously.

"The nursery will be suuuuper crowded!" She agrees with Moltface, and looks to Foamkit. "Do you think they'll be ready to play soon? They still look pretty small..."

 
you can count on me

The large ticked tabby placed his mewling bundle of fur at his paws gently. He certainly didn't want to jostle the poor thing any more than needed. "It's a near miracle I heard them across the way," Hemlocknose hummed. Their stench didn't bother him too much. He was just happy they were safe. "They'll need to be fed as soon as possible," he added. He had no one in particular in mind, as long as they were kind he had no qualms. And he couldn't think of anyone that didn't fit that bill off the top of his head. Hopefully Chilledstar was in a relatively good mood today, however. Bringing five kits home would surely be a strain on their stores.
 
ABANDON ALL YOUR STUPID DREAMS
ABOUT THE GIRL I COULD HAVE BEEN, MY DEAR
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maggotfur 20 moons female she/her shadowclan warrior
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" It's happened before, " the words are directed towards Onxypaw as the massive molly makes an appearance, blue eyes glimmering coldly as she peers down her muzzle. Magpiepaw had joined their ranks similarly - and though it'd been before her time, it was something the queens had often gossiped about. Well that, and Pitchstars rather... uncouth wish to name him Garbagekit when they'd first found him. Hopefully, whoever names these kits will be just as kind in keeping loathsome names from their figures. Not everyone bears the painful reminders of their past as proudly as Maggotfur does, after all.

" And you're sure that's all of them? " brow raises as she looks at the patrol, ignoring the others - she's never been bothered by scents, and while she might keep her own pelt pristine she's never shied away from getting her paws dirty either. It's simply part of life in shadowclan - to become covered in muck and grime and stench of carrionplace, if one wants to survive.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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A N D - I F - Y O U ' R E - B L I N D - T O - T H A T , I ' M - F I N E - W I T H - T H A T
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His paws dangle, his body sways and he feels pressure on his scruff; he stares down eyes inquisitive and bright at the ground that moves beneath him. His mewling had ceased, when he'd been hoisted out of his drenched smelly den he'd let his complaints be heard. He'd brandished teeth only slightly poking out from pinkish gums and let out breathy hisses that couldn't be heard over the pitter-patter of rain. He hadn't known what was happening, didn't understand he was being saved because he didn't know he was in danger in the first place he only had bare instincts and the desire to stay close to the warmth of his littermates, he knew nothing more.

Now he stares down at a unknown world passing by beneath him, one he'd call home in due time. He's calm almost contemplative as he observes the mud and dirt and the large paws that squish into it. But the world slows and there's suddenly much more noise, his tiny ears twitch and he begins to squirm uncomfortably with nothing to entertain him. He's about to cry out to let his displeasure be known to the wide world; to every cat in Shadowclan's camp but the noise never bubbles out of his throat as just as his maw parts he's set down. Right down at Ferndance's paws, shadows hang over him and he wobbles on unsteady legs only to plop down on his stomach. His damp pelt makes him shiver and he wiggles closer to Ferndance's paws seeking warmth and comfort. He's cold, he's hungry and he's lonesome - there should be bodies against him and while he hears the mewling of his kin he can't distinguish where they are.

He can only cry out "meeeeeeer!"

 
Forestshade brings up the rear of the patrol, her face scrunched in distaste as the stinky kitten in her jaws squirms and writhes. The scent of Carrionplace is too overpowering and she wants to gag, but forces a firm grip on the kit until she can put them down near Moltface. She can hear her clanmates gather to see what’s going on, curious murmurs rising up around her. “The first thing they need is a bath,” The lead warrior grumbles, taking a step back to let the others take charge of the situation. She has no maternal instincts, absolutely none. It should be obvious from the way she raised her own kits.

At least Moltface can certainly be trusted to take good care of the little scraps. Sniffing and lifting her chin, the she-cat mutters, “Who would leave these guys there?” It doesn’t matter now. They’ll be ShadowClanners, through and through. She is absolutely positive Chilledstar would never turn them away.