- Jul 29, 2023
- 34
- 7
- 8
( tags ) CW: owl attack & kitten injury! not very graphic.
The warm, late greenleaf evening was uncharacteristically quiet, a moment of tranquility as the sun touched the horizon, the twilight sky fading from vibrant orange and rose to grey. Poppykit was alone—as she often was found as of late, many of the kits grew bored of her silence and her tendency to fixate on a single object for extended periods of time—holding a crow feather between her paws in the center of Shadowclan camp. They stared at the glossy black feather, quiet as they ever were, red tabby tail swaying in the last dapples of sunlight.
Poppykit liked the little bone that sat in the center of the feather, perfectly middle-positioned and sharp. Feathers were the fur of birds, and she wondered if the fur of cats had needly bones within their fluffy midst. She couldn't see any fur bones on herself unless her tail counted as one—it was particularly middle-positioned... Perhaps they were too small for her kitten-eyes to see. Poppykit learned there was much that existed that chose not to reveal itself to her eyes or ears. Sickness was one such hidden object, an invisible trickster that latched unseen teeth into the throats of cats and made them cough and sneeze and droop where they sat. Shadowclan was scared of the sickness, and Poppykit wondered if it would be less frightening if they were able to see it with their cat-eyes, or if the thing would be all the more terrifying when it showed its face. Poppykit didn't think they were all that frightened of things they could not see. In fact, they were somewhat unsure of what fright was supposed to be, as they had never felt the feeling described yet in their short life.
In the sky far above Poppykit, another creature still unseen and unheard by her hungered. Two black holes bore through a flat white disc face like a fang-punctured moon, and a bone-sharp beak jutted out harshly, clicking together in anticipation. A sharper-eared cat may have heard the muffled sound of wind through feathers as the owl made its dive, and onlookers would certainly see its blurring white shape descend upon the kitten, but Poppykit would remain in pleasant ignorance until the moment talons hit her body in a sunburst of pain.
The small kitten would have hardly a chance to react—in confusion and distress at the hot stabbing feeling upon the delicate skin of their chest—before their paws were dangling above the crow feather that now remained flat upon the ground as the predator lifted off on its tawny wings. A rush of something invaded her small body and exploded in a brain that was only accustomed to pleasantly drifting, twirling thoughts. Overcome by instinct, the typically silent kitten would let out a piercing, resonant shriek of terror.
Upon later reflection, Poppykit would come to the conclusion that the feeling they felt at that moment was in fact, fright.
// pls wait for @Skunktail
"SPEECH"
The warm, late greenleaf evening was uncharacteristically quiet, a moment of tranquility as the sun touched the horizon, the twilight sky fading from vibrant orange and rose to grey. Poppykit was alone—as she often was found as of late, many of the kits grew bored of her silence and her tendency to fixate on a single object for extended periods of time—holding a crow feather between her paws in the center of Shadowclan camp. They stared at the glossy black feather, quiet as they ever were, red tabby tail swaying in the last dapples of sunlight.
Poppykit liked the little bone that sat in the center of the feather, perfectly middle-positioned and sharp. Feathers were the fur of birds, and she wondered if the fur of cats had needly bones within their fluffy midst. She couldn't see any fur bones on herself unless her tail counted as one—it was particularly middle-positioned... Perhaps they were too small for her kitten-eyes to see. Poppykit learned there was much that existed that chose not to reveal itself to her eyes or ears. Sickness was one such hidden object, an invisible trickster that latched unseen teeth into the throats of cats and made them cough and sneeze and droop where they sat. Shadowclan was scared of the sickness, and Poppykit wondered if it would be less frightening if they were able to see it with their cat-eyes, or if the thing would be all the more terrifying when it showed its face. Poppykit didn't think they were all that frightened of things they could not see. In fact, they were somewhat unsure of what fright was supposed to be, as they had never felt the feeling described yet in their short life.
In the sky far above Poppykit, another creature still unseen and unheard by her hungered. Two black holes bore through a flat white disc face like a fang-punctured moon, and a bone-sharp beak jutted out harshly, clicking together in anticipation. A sharper-eared cat may have heard the muffled sound of wind through feathers as the owl made its dive, and onlookers would certainly see its blurring white shape descend upon the kitten, but Poppykit would remain in pleasant ignorance until the moment talons hit her body in a sunburst of pain.
The small kitten would have hardly a chance to react—in confusion and distress at the hot stabbing feeling upon the delicate skin of their chest—before their paws were dangling above the crow feather that now remained flat upon the ground as the predator lifted off on its tawny wings. A rush of something invaded her small body and exploded in a brain that was only accustomed to pleasantly drifting, twirling thoughts. Overcome by instinct, the typically silent kitten would let out a piercing, resonant shriek of terror.
Upon later reflection, Poppykit would come to the conclusion that the feeling they felt at that moment was in fact, fright.
// pls wait for @Skunktail
"SPEECH"
