sensitive topics dig till my shovel tells a secret || tragic backstory unlocked

[Harry Styles]

//cw: ash is sitting at the edge of camp thinking abt her tragic backstory, which involves murder & domestic violence, and dealing with baby ptsd & fear of losing her new family. she might open up more about the murder/dv to anyone who asks what's on her mind. stay safe you guys <3

A S H K I T
it's a long way forward, so trust in me

---

Last night was rainy, and the river isn't quite raging, but it's a little choppier than it usually is, its waters a little higher. Their island camp is probably a few square inches smaller, waters lapping higher at the sandy bank. The river is always changing like this. It's exciting.

Ash wonders if it'd drown the man who killed her mother.

She knows this camp is safe. That's why Cicadastar picked it. That's why her mama brought her here, why they stuck with the bloodied and tired group of cats that laid claim to the land by the river, following in one long line from Fourtrees. They're safe here. Protected.

But Ash thought she was safe before. And then she came home from a walk with Silverfoot, and her mother was strewn across their shared nest, bloody and silent and very, very dead. She'd had a safe and happy life with her two moms, her little belly always full of milk, always someone there to groom her or cuddle her or take her on big adventures. And then all of a sudden that life was over, and now she'll never get it back.

She has so many more things now that she can't imagine losing. There are so many more cats now that she loves. Big, strong cats like Clay and Cicada and her mama; soft and friendly cats like Beesong (and secretly Pumpkin). Icesparkle and Mudpelt's new babies, her itty-bitty new friends who are so fragile.

Ash's ears flatten to her skull as she thinks of each of her clanmates, thinks of them dead just like her mother, bloody and still and gone forever. She thinks of Corvidtongue and how wrong his body had looked, how empty. Not marred by death blows, just... lifeless.

If he finds her again-- if he comes after her, who else will he take?

Will the river keep her new family safe?

She stares at the river, stares across it at the other bank. Waits for an orange tabby pelt so like her own to come flying from the shadows. The kitten is never so quiet, never so still. She never sits in her fear like this, but right now it feels like she can't escape. She's trapped in these final terrified moments before her world ends all over again.

Her tiny body shudders, glass-green eyes glazed over, staring.
​

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

​

ooc quick tags

• she's having a flashback sort of. she'll probably snap out of it if someone talks to her ​
• - three moons old
  - will bite you
  - will put nettles in your nest
  - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
  - she's trying her best, i swear ​

 

[pumpkin]

Pumpkin is all too familiar with the feeling of being haunted by your past. It grips you by your throat, digs its claws in and no matter how loud you scream it digs deeper within your skin until it draws blood. Being grounded within camp, its something that had brought her own story out and its a vulnerable time, Pumpkin could understand that. Even if she wished she didn't.

Shes just passing by and spots an orange colored pelt much like her own near the riverbank and an eyebrow quirks, she recognizes who it is immediately. She stops in her tracks, almost as if shes waiting to be noticed, to be greeted, for Ash to turn around with that annoying smile of hers (though Pumpkin's forced thoughts are harsh, she knows inwardly she didn't hate the kid). She waits but Ash doesn't turn and as she stares more Ash is actually shaking and Pumpkin raises her chin, flicks an ear. It is not her business to go over but paws carry her over anyways, awkwardly sitting besides Ash in silence.

She stares at the riverbank, at the choppy water before them before her head tilts as she looks back. Ash looks so out of it, so scared and despite the urge for a snarky quip, she keeps her mouth quiet. Pumpkin's normalcy would not fit here. Silence fills her ears, apart from the rushing of water and she almost couldn't stand it- speak, Ash, speak! She finds herself begging inwardly, searching for anything, but Ash is still sitting there. A sigh leaves her jaws. It's an awkward gesture, something that her body did while her mind screamed, she attempts to hook a paw around the smaller kit and bring her close to her. "Want to talk about it?" her tone is flat, gruff, but its the most emotional she'd allow herself to get today. She vaguely remembers Cicada comforting her when she cried over her own reflection and does her best to imitate it.
​

"speech"​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  The first memory Hound'd carried with him to this new life was one of violence. A few moments, drownin' out the rest. Good and bad both, bathed in blood. In some sort'f way, he knows Ash, and Pumpkin, and all the others that'd spent their youth in suffering. Maybe it's why he'd found himself here. They were little things, with whole lives stretched out before them, and they deserved to know it without the burden of past pains upon their shoulders. This was meant to be a fresh start. Somethin' better. Yet even this is covered in mud and blood. Their paws'll still never be fully clean. The pale underside of his paws still seems pink under the moonlight, when he's unable to fully quell the thoughts running about his head. He thinks of the cats he'd tried to save, and those that he had lost. He thinks of the cats that'd raised him, and of Flint on that fateful night.

He could do nothing for his younger self. But perhaps he'd do something kind for these little things.

Body low to the ground and unimposing as can be, the tomcat approaches at the water's edge, reaching out to brush one paw along the choppy water. Part of him worries they'll get pulled out themselves. Cicada could hardly swim when first they'd found this place. Kittens could hardly be expected to, could they? But they were careful, he'd imagine. Hound doesn't allow himself to sweep them away as he wants to. Instead, he sets as silent shelter a little to the side. "Those thoughts'f yours're spilling out your ears," he chuckles, dry and cool as a newleaf evening. "Might do better to share it." He nods at Pumpkin, clearly intending to second her offer.

†  ooc notes information †

• 
  ooc: —
• ──── hound. trans male, he/him pronouns only.
  ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
  ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.
  
  ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
• "speech"

​

 

[Harry Styles]

A S H K I T
it's a long way forward, so trust in me

---

Ash doesn't hear the approach. Her eyes and ears stay trained on the other side of the river. Waiting.

And then all of a sudden there's a paw around her shoulders-- and she's being pulled close, and it isn't her mama's scent but it is a familiar one. She remembers vicious snarling followed by tears and an uncertain apology, a gift, the beginnings of a tentative friendship. Pumpkin holds her, orange tabby fur pressed against cinnamon calico, and Ash flinches at first, but then she can hardly help the way her trembling body sinks into the comfort.

She keeps her eyes on the far riverbank, but she lets herself be held.

"I'm scared," she whispers in response. "I'm. I'm scared he's gonna come back. The, the man who killed my mom."

She'd never seen him, but she'd seen his orange fur left behind in that bloody nest, and Silverfoot had told her what he looked like-- said they were going to go somewhere safe, but if Ash ever saw a cat who looked like that, run. Long, sleek tabby fur and glass-green eyes.

Hound appears, too, another RiverClanner who's big and strong, another member of Ash's new family who sure seems invincible. He settles beside her, consciously ensuring he doesn't tower over the two of them. Just like Cicadastar always does.

Pressed in between her clanmates, Ash feels a little safer-- protected from both sides, wrapped up in familiar scents. Before she knows it the story is bursting out of her.

"He, he killed her. We were happy and safe and everything was okay, and he just killed her and we came home and she was dead and there was blood everywhere and."

She chokes on the sputtering river of words, takes a few seconds to breathe, ragged and frightened.

"And Mama says we're safe here but she said that before and she was wrong. She was wrong! And what if he comes back? What if he kills me or you or Mama or 'Cadastar or, or..."

She's breathing faster now, panic wrapping around her lungs and squeezing tight. Mama says they're safe here but the truth is that Ash's world already ended, and if that can happen once then you're never, ever safe.
​

i'll give them shelter like you've done for me

​

ooc quick tags

• 
  ooc text goes here
  
• 
  - three moons old
  - will bite you
  - will put nettles in your nest
  - latches onto anyone who shows her affection
  - she's trying her best, i swear