camp CROWS COME LIKE RAIN — exploring

[Acornwish.]

ACORNKIT — the cow jumped over the moon .
"Oaks and Acorns, Oaks and Acorns, oaks… oaks.. oaks" the light chant is on her lips as she sneaks about, her words only filled with breath, no power from her voice behind them. It’s a jumble of words, strange, but she couldn’t stop. She was Acorns and her brother was Oaks. Acorns and Oaks. Oaks and Acorns.
She creeps from behind the wall of a protruding stone to the cover of a slightly bent fern, down turned green eyes poking cautiously from behind her impromptu camouflage.
Her pelt did not yet glimmer like her kins, but once dusted brown fur was now a light fawn hue, the smell of rot and fear that had laced itself into her being was now replaced with the scent of sap and milk.
She was no sight to behold, but she found it much easier to shine without all the gunk that she was once buried in.
"Acorn, oaks, acorns and oaks" she feverishly repeats as she bolts from her fern cover to a spot behind the medicine dens arch, another stray rock.
She wanted to observe the sanctuary, without all the stomping the bigger cats seemed to enjoy so much. Where she came from, cats were small and soft-spoken most of the time- these cats were anything but.
She wonders if she can spook Oakkit, but that would require finding her brother first.

"speech"

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[Flamestar]

Just on the outside of the Medicine Den, curled up in a warm sun filled spot lay the ginger furred molly. Her side rose and fell gently as she napped, her paws occasionally twitching as the dream progressed. It was hard to sleep in the Medicine Cat's den. The cave was stuffy to her, and the aroma of all of the herbs mixed together was overwhelming. The first couple nights she had been so exhausted that it hadn't even phased her, but now that she was beginning to heal and feel a bit better, the smell was driving her crazy.

Acorn, oaks, acorns and oaks

A tiny voice nearby caused her to slowly wake up. Not too far away, she spotted the newly named Acornkit, hiding like Oak-kit had recently. She would flick her ear, hoping the kitten would spot the movement first so her voice wouldn't startle her away. Her head remained rested on her paws, not wanting to move around too much. She could feel the stiffness in her shoulder from the fragile scab and herbs that were plastered to her pelt. Her shoulder fur twitched uncomfortably, wishing those herbs weren't there.

"Hello little one. Do you like you and your brother's new names?" Anything was better than Dogbait.

[₊⋆]​

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[BERRYHEART]

A mantra marauded through the air- in Berryheart's half-asleep stupor, he'd barely noticed the content of the little chant, merely hearing the words without heeding their meaning. Names often flittered fleet in his head anyway... the correlation would not have lasted. It was Sunset's quiet tone that eased his wonky eyes open, for he lay not far from his den outside which the red warrior languished. Following the line of her verdant vision, he noticed a speck of ashy-brown hidden nearby.

The medicine cat's speckled tail flicked, a wordless endorsement- perhaps, even, a seconding- of Sunset's enquiry. Which kitten was that, again...? One of the newer ones, he was sure... renamed by Big Mama, though he'd of course already given the child an alias to cement her in his memory. He would offer no interruption... kittens tended to ask him questions if they had them. With his new position came an assumption of superior knowledge, and Berryheart could not say he did not enjoy the concept. One day he wished to live up to such presumptions.​

PENNED BY PIN ☾​

 

[RACCOONSTRIPE]

The quick naps he takes in between his work make up for the nightmares that keep him twitching throughout the night. He's lounging close to Berryheart, letting the sun heat the dark, rippling fur on his body, white chin nestled carefully on snow-tipped paws. He's a light sleeper, though, and as his brother and Flamewhisker creep awake, he does as well. He can spot a splash of her ginger fur just inside the medicine cat's den, still recovering from her dance with death.

"Acorn, oaks, acorns and oaks," a strange little whisper-song dances past his ears, and he blinks rapidly in confusion. Ah, right--he can spot a splash of dusty-brown creeping about the camp, murmuring to herself. Her own name, her brother's name.

"Don't wear out your new names so soon," he mutters drowsily. At least it seems the feral things are becoming more acclimated to Clan life. He can only hope they continue to improve.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[STORMFEATHER]

These kits were strange—Stormpaw thought with a twist of her nose. They did not act like Clan cats. Stormpaw had never felt such alienation with members of her own Clan, and especially her peers. Kittypets were a type that escaped her ire on bias alone, but the little cat was slowly beginning to mold into the ways and expectations of Clan life. Even if these little kits had earned their names from Howlingstar, Stormpaw could not help but feel annoyed by their feral timidness.

And how would they ever expect to become warriors if they don't trust us? She thought with a huff, remembering how Oakkit had bitten senior warriors' tails.

"If you wanted to hide, you shouldn't dart around like a mouse." She remarked, tail curled over her paws.

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[Daisypaw]

Perhaps contrary to her Clanmates, Daisypaw was a fan of the newly-named kittens. This was in no small part because it meant she was no longer one of the smallest and youngest cats in ThunderClan; she had someone she could, if not boss around (which wasn't really in her nature), compare herself to and not be displeased with the result. When she compared herself with most of her Clanmates, she was left feeling achingly inadequate, and too young to understand the feeling. All she knew was that her fur was not luxuriously thick or shiny, her legs were short, her tail was pointy, her ears were tiny; she was still kitten-fluffy and round-bellied. She did not exude strength and confidence like Sal, Racoonstripe, or Flycatcher - or any other of ThunderClan's warriors, for that matter. But she was a little taller, a little slimmer, a little stronger than the two-month-old Oak-kit and Acornkit, and for that she was grateful to have them around.

Daisypaw had been lingering near the medicine den, too, mostly for the sake of observing Flamewhisker sleep - she liked to watch her Clanmates when they were at rest. She found it calming, particularly when she herself felt tightly wound. Plus, it was fun to imagine how she'd pounce on them without them realizing - even if she tried to convince herself that she had outgrown such kittenlike antics. Acornkit's light brown pelt flashes past and Daisypaw tilted her head in curiosity, watching the tiny cat huddle behind a rock. "Maybe she's not trying to hide." the calico mrowed in response to Stormpaw, inching closer to the gathering of ThunderClanners. I wouldn't hide there if I was trying to hide, anyway. Then again, I'm pretty good at hiding, I think. she could remember multiple games of hide-and-seek with Sal where she had indisputably been the victor.​

 

[Acornwish.]

ACORNKIT — the cow jumped over the moon .
Something spoke aloud from nearby, it’s tone gentle and almost sleepy.
Unable to see properly, two wide eyes would peer from the side of the medicine den, the woven barrier covering the bottom half of her face as she looked at the fiery molly. Sheepishly, Acornkit flickers her gaze around, there was no one else here to address.
The chimera recognizes her, the Apple cat. Apple, apple, apple…
Apple had asked a question! Gears in Acornkit’s mind turn over with imaginary clicking noises.
"We’re from… the forest now." The young kit replies with a sure-minded nod from where she still peered, her incessant chanting coming only in hums under her breath now that she was locked in a conversation.
Another watches, just barely in the kits view. She did not have to come up with a fruit for him, Berry. He was already Berry, well named in her opinion.
A slumbering beast of brown and white mumbles at her to “not wear her new name out.”
You could not wear a name, it was not a chain.
Acornkit almost has half mind to point that fact out to the silly warrior, but she holds her tongue.
Two more approach, thump thump thump go their paws.
Suddenly, Acornkit wants her brother here, she wants Wrenflutter.
"Uhm." Is all she can say as anxiety crackles from her paws, speeding up her heartbeat.
"Mice hide…" she pointed out with a frown, finally moving from her place and revealing herself fully to the gathered cats. "Very well in fact.."

"speech"

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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe's eyes re-open, barely more than sunwarmed slits. Acornkit has shuffled her way out into the open, answering Stormpaw and Basilpaw's questions with shuffling paws. "Mice hide... very well in fact..." The tabby flicks the striped point of his tail, yawning and revealing a set of fearsome teeth. "That's true. But you don't want to be a mouse, surely. You want to be a big strong ThunderClan warrior who hunts mice."

He blinks at the little she-kit. The anxiety coming from her tawny body is palpable, the fear scent sharp. He suppresses a sigh. These kits are just so far removed from Clanborn kits, who parade about camp with confidence, pouncing and biting and yowling. Then again, he can only imagine what horrors they may have faced, as skinny as they'd been, with matching names of Dogbait. "Maybe Stormpaw or Basilpaw will show you how to catch a mouse," he murmurs with a grin at the apprentices. "You've already got the, uh... the 'thinking' like your prey down pat."​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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