camp CONCH AND SHELL ♥︎ CLIMBING LESSON

[DOEBLAZE]

It must have been over a full turn of the seasons ago that Orangestar ( then Orangeblossom ) had hosted a little kitten climbing lesson, one Doeblaze ( then Bobbie ) had watched pleasantly from the sidelines, giggling as her son licked the bark and then - Cherrykit claimed dominion over her little perch. Much has changed, including the names of nearly everyone involved, but the intention of the lesson had remained enduring, for many of those kittens had turned into warriors who ran through the trees as easily as the wide - winged birds. Whether the childhood practice had been integral to that development is hard to determine, but regardless, why not give the newest generation the chance to sink their claws into some bark?

" Here we are, " she mrrows as she shepherds the kits towards the sunning - stump in emulation of the lesson she remembered Orangestar delivering ( for she's always admired the ginger - and - white leader ). The task could also serve as double duty to give the queens, especially poor Lovage, a rest from the constant demands of the kits, a chance for who she considered some of the Clan's most valuable assets to take a nap or neaten their fur during the humid heat of the day, the sun bathing the earth in a pine - fragrant mist of humidity.

" Go ahead, try to climb it, " she encourages, tail swishing away any of the fat summer flies as she nods towards the well - worn bark of the stump. She herself is no longer a queen, but she's always treasured the youth of the Clan ( especially her own kits ) and their immense importance in the future; after all, some of these tiny paws might one day be shaping the future of SkyClan long after she's gone. " Don't be afraid of falling, " the tabby warrior adds with a gentle blink of her lone eye, pupil a chunk of softened jade. " It won't hurt. "

OOC : Geared towards kits, but anyone can post! Rolling a d20 for climbing proficiency/progress is encouraged.

♥︎

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[butterflytuft]

Butterflytuft observes quietly as Doeblaze encourages the kits to climb the stump, mirroring a tradition passed down generations. She smiles softly - it’s a thoughtful gesture by the former queen, and she is sure to nudge along @budkit even if she is the youngest in the nursery right now. With a gentle purr, the queen mews, “This is such a lovely idea, Doeblaze. Thanks for doing this.” Sunflower eyes drift down to Budkit, who is swiftly approaching the 2-moon mark. She’s been moving more and more, tiny legs testing their limits, so she’s curious to see if she will take interest in the activity. She herself never took to climbing - stars curse her crippling fear of heights. But maybe if she’d been doing stuff like this in her twoleg home at Budkit’s age, things would be different. So even if she can’t go climbing the territory’s trees, she wants her kits set up for success; she wants better for them. Butterflytuft leans down to nuzzle her daughter delicately. "Go on, sweetheart," She encourages softly. "Don't be afraid to try. You might surprise yourself." With a flick of her tail towards the tree stump, the tortoiseshell settles back to watch with interest.
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[budkit]

Budkit toddles with all the confidence of a spoiled youngest child - beloved and beheld in near constant nature by Butterflytuft. She recognizes Doeblaze from the warrior’s visits to the nursery, offering the pretty lady a beaming smile as she approaches the sunning stump. Her and the other kits are tasked with climbing the stump. At first Budkit looks to Butterflytuft with uncertainty. It looks awfully high… However, the monarch hued queen offers gentle encouragement and the former queen iterates that if anyone should fall it won’t hurt.

That’s enough to embolden Budkit to try.

As Butterflytuft moves to sit on the sidelines and watch, Budkit waddles up to the stump and cranes her head back to stare way up. It’s so tall! Mitten-like paws reach up and touch the textured stump. The point kitten marvels at how it feels beneath her many toes. It’s not soft like the moss in her nest or grainy like the ground beneath them. It’s hard, but not as hard as rock.

Experimentally Budkit curls her front claws into the bark, finding grip and leverage enough for her pudgy body to begin to ascend. Slowly, slowly, very slowly does she inch and wiggle her way up. After what feels like an eternity (it was literally only a minute or two) she finally has all four paws hooked on the stump, holding herself a good couple of inches from the ground, and clings on with all her might. Unfortunately a claw from one of her extra toes hooked the bark wrong and Budkit struggled to free it - inadvertently trapping herself in place on the stump.

Panic quickly sets in once the young kitten realizes she can’t get up or down. What if she stays stuck forever?! What if mama gets tired of watching and goes back to the nursery without her? Budkit tries again to wrench her paw free and winces at the discomfort. “Mamaaaa! Hewp!” she finally wails, frightened tears beading up in sapphire eyes as she searches the nearby faces for her mother.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[SILVERSMOKE]

A short distance, Silversmoke lingered, knowing he would likely need the climbing lesson just as much as the kittens but allowing pride to get in the way of education. It wasn't something he wanted Doeblaze to teach him, already he could picture a condescending tone from the other, her yapping about how he needed a kittypet to teach him. Even if he hadn't felt that way in a long time, bad reputations were a hard thing to break - and to Silversmoke, good ones were too easily shattered by admitting he may have needed help. Luckily, he was not the focus of Doeblaze's lessons. Instead, the Lead Warrior watched the tiny one start her journey up the stump, a ghost of a smile stretched upon his maw. He would stay out the tabby's way and, in return, get to enjoy watching the next generation grow and thrive. That was the plan. StarClan thought differently.

There was a hesitation from the point that caused him to squint as if paralysed by a fear of heights. Budkit cried for help and the spotted tabby's ears immediately flew backward, burying into the thick fur on his neck. He leaped forward, scrambling to reach the top of the stump, an urgency in his eyes as if it were a life-or-death scenario for the young kitten. With a grunt, he pulled himself up, uncaring of how sloppy the attempt looked. He whipped around, his stare finding the problem quickly, a claw stuck in the bark, The Lead Warrior reached down, aiming to grab Budkit by the scruff and slowly shift his head back and forth, hoping to find an angle where her claw could unhook itself from the obstacle and he could safely haul her up to the top. "Stay calm," he insisted, likely through a bundle of fur that muffled the words.

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[Oleanderkit]

Oleanderkit likes SkyClan well enough so far. It's a kinder place than Nightshade's colony had ever afforded to be; she pictures herself again squirreled away at Lovage's teat, hushed out of sound, trembling without understanding why. Living in the colony was living with hungry raptors. They all looked for ways to punish her mother, and so would punish her and her littermates in succession if they ever made a squeak out of place. They had watched her, starved and eager for a new warrior to grow up quickly and provide for them. SkyClan, in comparison, is a lush and flowered meadow where everyone holds hands and sings songs and serves dessert for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert again.

It's almost too sweet, sometimes. Queens even aside from Lovage dote on her all morning. She can't leave the warm bubble of camp. She can't fight with the other kits, because fighting is a bad thing, now (not that she had ever really tried it with her own siblings, back then). Her new life stands in stark contrast to her old one, and so when Doeblaze offers this vaguely rugged task of climbing a stump, Oleander drifts naturally to it.

Budkit — she recognizes her as the kitten who had bitten her brother, the one she'd thwacked right on the head — is the first to try this feat. Oleander cannot reserve her judgment: that girl is definitely too little to be climbing a stump. Unlike Oleander herself, who is much more ready for the task at a mere half-moon older. Doeblaze's soft affirmations of it won't hurt if you fall combine with Butterflytuft's encouragement to spur her into action.

Except, she has very little idea of what she's doing. Thin, milky claws extend from their blushed-pink sheathes and into the rough bark of the stump. It's an unfamiliar sensation; one that pulls at her very knuckles, and her first instinct is to free her paw again. With a phlegmy sneeze, she re-places her paw on the bark anyway. It is not ambition that drives the girl as much as her own curiosity: how far could she climb? What would be her prize for succeeding? Would the view be different from the top of the stump? These are the questions that place one paw above the other, up and up, and she makes a surprising amount of progress before Budkit cries out.

The younger girl's wails make Oleander wince — less from sympathy and more from the sheer volume of her aural assault. The silver and cream kitten retains her footing in the bark, wispy tail lashing down behind her (she was hardly her own tail-length up the stump). Comfort comes quick to her competitor, though, and so Oleanderkit continues, now enjoying the way the bark tugged her claws.

A chorus of look at me, I don't need help, I can do it by myself, joins what's at the top? what's my prize? how far can I go? in beautiful concert. The rim of the stump is within her grasp — but she is interrupted after all. A heap of coughs expel from her spongy pink lungs. Oleander shivers in place, snot dripping from her petal nose, and loses ground. One forepaw looses from the stump, and then a hind paw, and she slips back several centimeters from where she had been. Once the storm of illness has settled, though, she charts her course again: to the top!

She makes it, but not without struggle. Oleander sits, tucking her paws neatly beneath her, tail curling around herself. She does not announce her victory. She simply looks for Lovage, watery ice-blue eyes squinting as she sifts through the crowd.

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[DOEBLAZE]

Butterflytuft's distinctive tortoiseshell pelt comes forth, little Budkit toddling at her side, and a single shred of a rusty, long - unused purr makes its way out of Doeblaze's chest. The younger she - cat had been invaluable during those long and terrible days, ruled by the dark haze and ironclad prison of her own grief—she has thanked her once already for all she's done, and though Butterflytuft had brushed it off modestly, she would thank her again and again if she'd thought she'd accept it. " Thanks, yourself. It's not entirely mine, though, " she mrrows a bit sheepishly, torn ears fluttering against the warm midsummer's breeze. " Orangestar held a similar lesson, way back when my first litter were still small. "

Her eyes, slightly glossy with a rare fond nostalgia, feather forest - green anew as the kits begin to approach the stump, some more than a little nervously. Interest sparks in their beryl depths, wondering if one of them might prove a particular prowess—though she'd never dream of dishonoring the six moons rule, a particularly auspicious climber could always be treated to some of the " super special lessons " that kits so adored being offered. Budkit's small pointed form begins with some promise, patting the rough stump with childish interest before she begins to slowly wiggle up its surface, like a warrior in miniature—only much, much slower than the speed at which the daring young warriors ( and sometimes, Doeblaze herself ) liked to fly up trunks at.

" Oh, dear— " she begins when Budkit starts up a wailing cry for help, shame already beginning to singe the tips of her ears, tabby limbs preparing to animate for a rescue. That is, until one of the cats she'd least expect comes sailing into view—Silversmoke's spotted - tabby form scrambles forth, seizing the crying kitten by her scruff and beginning a haphazard rescue attempt. Though Doeblaze has little affection for the lead warrior ( more like none, or less than ), she cannot deny his general skill, and so she trusts in him to " save " poor little Budkit, though she rises from her seat, legs thrumming with prepared energy.

" Sorry, Butterflytuft, " she mrrows bashfully when the rescue has ( hopefully ) been completed, glancing awkwardly towards the tortoiseshell queen. In the eyes out an outward observer, the onus might not be on her, but it certainly feels like as she heaves a sigh—isn't this off to a lovely start . . . things don't look promising, that's for sure.

That is, until the older Oleanderkit's more successful ascent captures Doeblaze's notice. She already feels a certain affinity for Lovage and her sniffling brood—the situation of some unknown destruction driving one to the border, heavy - hearted and with kits on the way ( or already there ), has a painful familiarity that elicits a sympathy from the warrior. If she can, she'd like to see the little family thrive in SkyClan, just as she has ( or had, her mind croaks hoarsely ). Things appear precarious for a moment as the girl coughs thickly, barely clinging to the trunk's grooves—but then she scrambles her way up onto the top of the thing, sitting primly, a faint echo of last year's event with then - Cherrykit ( though, if she remembers right, the tortie had been a little less gracious in her victory ).

" Oh, good job, Oleanderkit! " she calls raspily, her jade - stained gaze surveying the crowd for Lovage. It's only right the new queen sees how well her daughter's taken to the task, after all.

OOC : —

♥︎

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