camp DREAMED UNQUENCHABLE FIRE [✦] accident


✦₊ ⊹—— he's meandering about camp, as he's become apt to do. cicadakit wants to get in the water again, quite badly, but his parents would never permit him to swim unattended—the thought stings the back of his throat for some reason. still, he's merely wandering listlessly about on stilted legs, thinking vaguely that he's cold, but he's always cold. it's not a change, really—the only time he's been warm, really warm, was when he was a newborn nestled at his father's flank. he wonders where his siblings are, wonders if they're playing a game, talking with the other kittens, bothering the older cats for stories.

he wonders if they're having fun.

distracted as he is, he doesn't quite notice his paws getting closer and closer together—doesn't quite notice that he's not yet mastered the art of walking with a lifted chin and proud march as starlightkit has, nor beekit's cherry gait. he simply lurches about on legs far too long, paws far too big, wobbly and weaving like a deer in the trees. all of a sudden his paws are tangling together, crossing over, and the rock ahead of him is getting closer and closer until all of a sudden he shuts two-toned eyes as his muzzle makes contact with it, his chin thudding against the stone and blessedly not biting his tongue, merely banging pearly milk teeth painfully together and springing an instant ache to his nose. instinctively he mewls, "ow!"

it's like no pain he's known before, not the dull soreness of his clenched-teeth headaches; it spreads across his nose like a burst of stars, makes him scrunch his eyes up and sit dumbfounded on the sand. he's not crying but there's a dampness on his muzzle and on the sand, and when he raises his white paws to his nose they come away spattered with small drops of red. it came from my nose, he realizes, and he licks it off his chin where it's run from his nose. it tastes bittersweet, like iron, and he looks again at the deep crimson dripping onto his paws with a sort of fascination. though his face aches, it's almost beautiful—he's never seen such a red color, never seen such a thing before.

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  • ooc: tl;dr he fell and banged his face on a rock - not seriously injured, just has a small nosebleed
  • disclaimer: it's important to note that cicadakit is not always in a stable state of mind. his view of the world may not always be accurate to objective reality, which may include seeing things that are not genuinely there, reading motivations or thoughts from actions that are not actually implied, and making assumptions or jumping to conclusions. this is not an attempt at metagaming, powerplaying, or mischaracterization, and is not legitimately true or correct to reality or what your characters actually think or believe.

    it will always be noted in the post if he is seeing something that isn't actually there. all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
  • Tse77Co.png
    — cicadakit
    — he/him ; kit of riverclan ; 2 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — penned by dejavu

 
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( 🐝 ) Beekit had been playing mossball with a few other kittens, the adrenaline that she felt chasing after the small ball only to swat it to other kittens and the way her blood would pump though the kitten was beginning to get a little tired even if the other kits tried to keep playing with her. She was tempted but the sound of a familiar voice was enough to separate her from the small group, large ears rotating and trying to figure out where the noise had come from or rather who it came from. It didn't take long until her mismatched gaze locked onto the long limbed form of her brother, Cicadakit, and her usual cheery gait became more panicked as she scrambled forward with worry on her face.

"Cada! Are you okay?" She asks beginning to examine him noticing that blood was dripping from his nose, onto the sand, and his paw. The metallic smell of blood causing her snout to wrinkle in slight disgust and not having the same fascination as her younger sibling, large ears laying flat on her skull. The crimson hue was indeed interesting and perhaps lovely in it's own odd way but the last thing that Beekit really cared about was the color of the blood that seemed to drip from his brother's nose. After a moment of simply gawking at him, she leaned forward to give his head a few swipes of her tongue to possibly comfort him or perhaps she was trying to comfort herself.

She was certain of one thing and that was she didn't like that blood was spilling from her kin. Something about it made her gut twist and churn. Beekit mumbled quietly to Cicadakit in a gentle voice with no malice in her tone, "You need to be more careful, minnow-brain." Maybe had she not been so distracted with the other kittens she could've seen him not paying attention and warn him though she knows its bound to happen. Something she was beginning to understand was that she and Cicadakit were different whilst she enjoyed the attention, it seemed he did not and was rather opposed to it. "Okay?" She adds still looking him over for any further injuries with worry dancing in her mismatched eyes then sighed.

She keeps calm and levelheaded deciding that Smokethroat or another adult would eventually see the two of them, there was no point in shrieking and bringing attention to the both of them... To Cicadakit. With her head, she would bump it gently into his shoulder.
( KILL EM WITH THE MOJO ; CINEMATIC SLO-MO )
 

⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆ It's not that Fallinglight's avoiding their leader and deputy's kits per se, but he tends to find something that needs doing whenever he sees them ambling a little too close. It isn't...fear, really; he's afraid of very little, and he hasn't found anything that he can't overcome yet. He doesn't know how to explain it, just that he sees the little mini Cicadastar and Smokethroats, sees their resemblances to their parents and each other, and all he can think about is how he's forgotten the color of his mom's eyes, or her voice. It's not comfortable. Most of the time, Fallinglight surges through that kinda emotional baggage, but he's having a harder go at it now.

Still, when he notices Cicadakit trip spectacularly and bust his little nose on a stone, Fallinglight can't pretend like he's got better things to do than make sure he's okay. Beekit's there at his side already, comforting him, behaving reassuringly. "That looks like it hurts, bud," he says, wincing, imagining his own eyes watering from a blow like that. "Sit tight, I'll find Ravensong. I'm sure Beekit'll keep you company." Maybe he should fetch the kiddos' parents, too, but Ravensong's the main stop, and he doesn't waste more time setting off that way.

//@RAVENSONG

  • ooc:
  • FALLINGLIGHT / / 11 moons old / / amab and uses masculine pronouns; will be startled by the use of any others.
    — warrior of riverclan / / earned warrior name early at 10 moons / / skilled but not experienced / / mentoring [n / a].
    — npc parents / / father died in the great battle and mother left when he was apprenticed / / no contact w / siblings.
    — flirtatious & disastrous bisexual / / fairly indiscriminate (even when he should be) / / closed to long-term romance.

    a fairly trim, athletic cream tabby and black chimera with high white. fur is thick and a bit sharp, though tends to soften and curl primarily around his face and tail when wet. eyes are a bright, gleaming blue at home with the river on clear, sunny days. he is rarely without a devil-may-care grin, though despite his daring personality, has yet to accumulate noticeable scarring.
  • dear shell, cicadastar makes tall look intimidating, but his mini-me has a long way to go 'til then. here's hoping he doesn't trip his way into seriously hurting himself, or earning a clumsy reputation as an apprentice.

 

They are truly exhausting. The moment they got out of the nursery he was putting work into keeping up with the three of them and his worries of not being able to lose the excess weight he'd gained during the pregnancy was completely gone. Give him a few more moons of chasing them and he'd be back in his usual shape without any other effort needed. Smokethroat was finally relaxing again, having corralled them into one spot in the camp where he can watch and keep an eye out while not having to move from her comfortable spot. He's closed his eye to doze off briefly only to have it snap back open to the kitten cries of alarm.
Hearing any other cat be referred to as 'Cada' was something he still wasn't used to. The dark tom hears the shout long before he spots the kits and rises from where he had been lounging in the sun to head in that direction; immediately the scent of blood has his fur prickling and his veins frosting over with a chill he was not accustomed to, his steps harried as he reaches the two of them and spots the tiny red droplets on the ground before he forces his long orange eye up to the wiry kitten's face with his breath held. The relief is immediate, a smashed nose was not the injury he had been mentally preparing to see and he steps over Beekit to shroud her in his shadow to reach the crooked-tail child and dip his head down to rasp a tongue over his forehead. Fallinglight arrives, also urged along by the sound of kitten's making shrill sounds surely.
"You're fine, bumped your face into the ground did you?" With those unsteady legs it was a wonder Cicadakit didn't stumble and fall more often; his mate had not been kidding when he mentioned that long limbs ran in his family, he just hadn't been prepared to bring one of those doe-legged abominations into the world; gangly and awkward - that was his son. "I think we can just get some moss to hold on that." Fallinglight offers to fetch the medicine cat and he nods a quiet thank you.
There was no need to bother him with herbs or anything, if it was actually serious there would be more than a few pinprick tears and small red specks on the pebbled ground. Cicadakit is staring still at his paw and down as though mystified and it occurs to him then that the kits didn't really know a lot of the world still. He was probably wondering what this red stuff coming out of him was.
"Blood. That's what its called. You really want to keep that in you if you can help it. We need that to live. So let's try not to lose too much of it."
 
Her fascination with the kits is not because she wishes to mother them or hound them—Iciclefang sees bits of the leader she’d known since her eyes are opened now peering up at her from a tiny body with too-big ears and too-long legs. Likewise, sees the mentor she’s come to see as a confidante now in a squat little body with mismatched eyes, fussing over her brother whose nose spurts blood. She imagines what it would be like to see those traits you carry every day, that you know so well in yourself, now carried in another cat, one who is malleable and small.

She pads beside Smokethroat, dipping her head to her deputy as she does. Agreeing with Fallinglight, she says, “I’m sure that doesn’t feel good, but congratulations on your first battle scar, little Cicadakit.” Smokethroat’s advice causes her characteristically small, tight little smile to break the ice of her muzzle. Keep the blood in you, indeed. How amazing it is to see a kit learn what blood is, never knowing how much he will someday spill in the name of RiverClan.

She wonders how much of that is appropriate to share. She goes with, “Smokethroat is right. RiverClan blood should stay in RiverClan cats.” She curls her marbled tail about white-capped paws, her eyes resting coolly on the awkward-looking little kit.


  •  
  • iciclekit . iciclepaw . iciclefang
    — she/her ; warrior of riverclan
    — lesbian ; single
    — short-haired tortoiseshell with white markings and ice-blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Pin
 
Ravensong appears shortly at Fallinglight's call. There is a small crowd gathering around the spot where Cicadakit spilled his first blood but by the scent of it, Ravensong is not incredibly worried. His suspicions confirm themselves the moment he sees where the blood is coming from. Dipping his head graciously to the warrior, he departs from Fallinglight's side.

"Give him some space, yes?" Ravensong remarked to Beekit. "Thank you for taking care of him." The affection shown toward her sibling was admirable, but what he needed was space. Did no cat of this entire little black and black smoke family understand space?

As a kitten, he had been squeamish over blood, so Cicadakit was handling this quite well. The stark fact that he was not even crying was unnerving. "You need a few other things to live as well." Ravensong hummed, tacking onto Smokethroat's lesson with a gloomy shrug.

"Open your mouth for me, Cicadakit. I want to make sure you did not bite your tongue or chip your teeth. Afterwards, we can wash you up with moss." Smokethroat was right—no herbs necessary. Not quite a battle scar, as he heard Iciclefang remark, but he expected nothing less of the tortoiseshell warrior.

  •  
  • IMG_0250.png
    RAVENSONG of RIVERCLAN
    LH BLACK POLYDACTYL MALE (CARRYING CINNAMON, DILUTE) a tall, slender creature with pitch-black feathery fur, large ears, and a sharply angled skull held up in an aloof manner. smells of dried herb, speaks with a low and rumbly accent and walks with an elegant slinking gait.

    born in twolegplace and orphaned at a young age, he joined riverclan at its inception and began training as a drypaw warrior known for a bitter temperment until beesong made him his medicine cat apprentice. after his mentor's untimely death, he had been named ravensong at the moonstone, young heart revitalized with anger and guilt. he is a somber and thorough medicine cat that guards every word spoken in the confines of his den.

    secretly loves "the stars but not so much what inhabits them"
    openly suffers from chronic migraines
    single, but "it's complicated"
 

✦₊ ⊹—— of course, he doesn't go undisturbed—the son of riverclan royalty, he can't be permitted to simply sit and admire the strange liquid in peace, to his dismay. beekit comes scrambling towards him, her rounded form so different from his advancing in a way that seems far too panicked for the situation. she's loud, pulling attention to her like a magnet, but she seems better-intentioned than starlightkit is apt to be as she asks if he's okay, leaning and giving his curly-furred head a swipe of the tongue, which he accepts. beekit's voice is gentle, not prodding at him like so many cats do, sighing and bumping his shoulder with her head. though the words are knotted in his throat, he nods and mutters, "okay. 'm fine, bee."

one of the warriors pads over, calling him 'bud' and reassuring him before setting off to fetch the medicine cat before cicadakit can protest, blood drying on the kit's face. then his pa shows up, licking at his forehead too, which he chooses to accept with a silent nod. blood, then, is the pretty stuff dripping down his face and oozing coppery into his mouth. iciclefang, his pa's old apprentice, comes over too to speak—she's colder than the other cats somehow, difficult to get a read on; does she not like him? "okay," he nods, glances at it on his paw again, replies in a rare burst of speech, "i'll keep the blood in me."

another cat arrives alongside the returning warrior, making cicadakit shift uncomfortably on his paws, feeling eyes all around him. he's flat and gloomy, dark-pelted like cicadakit himself without the sharp starbursts of white, and he instructs cicadakit to open his mouth. he nods obediently if awkwardly and hinges open a long muzzle, revealing a small pink tongue set of milk teeth that are thankfully intact. he blinks at the cat, wondering what it meant to chip your teeth.

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  • ooc: ——
  • disclaimer: it's important to note that cicadakit is not always in a stable state of mind. his view of the world may not always be accurate to objective reality, which may include seeing things that are not genuinely there, reading motivations or thoughts from actions that are not actually implied, and making assumptions or jumping to conclusions. this is not an attempt at metagaming, powerplaying, or mischaracterization, and is not legitimately true or correct to reality or what your characters actually think or believe.

    it will always be noted in the post if he is seeing something that isn't actually there. all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
  • Tse77Co.png
    — cicadakit
    — he/him ; kit of riverclan ; 2 ☾s
    "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
    — penned by dejavu