pafp EVERYBODY NEEDS A HOME —⟢ AWKWARD QUESTIONS

Feb 23, 2024
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As Bilberrykit understands it, when a cat grows up they are supposed to find a mate or they are supposed to have kittens. When someone has a mate, they are supposed to cuddle with each other and groom each other between the ears and sometimes say that they love each other, very very much. It is one of the things that Bilberrykit is looking forward to when he is grown—he thinks he’ll find a mate really fast! (He’s really good at finding things, just yesterday he found a cricket.)

But when Bilberrykit looks around WindClan, he cannot help but notice that many of the adults don’t have a mate and don’t have kits.

Sometimes, this is for a reason. Grown up cats aren’t always pretty, and they aren’t always very nice. This means that nobody wants to cuddle with them or lick them between the ears or say that they love them very very much. It’s a little sad, but it’s alright if things are a little sad, on occasion. But then there are cats like Cottonpaw—she has a name like an apprentice but she’s grown up, and Bilberrykit has never seen her tell anyone else that she loves them very very much. She’s pretty and Bilberrykit has never seen her be rude, so it would stand to reason that she does have a mate, somewhere, that Bilberrykit hasn’t noticed before.

It is with this conclusion that Bilberrykit approaches Cottonpaw in the center of camp, tail held aloft and nothing but curiosity on his young face. “Where’s your mate?” As he asks, he peers beneath Cottonpaw’s belly, as if she might be hiding them down there, “And why don’t you have any kits? I’d notice if you had kits, we’d be over there together.” He nods his head towards the nursery.

//please wait for @cottonpaw
📱on mobile! | windclan kit | black and white harlequin | three moons | tags
 
Cottonpaw tries to wipe her worries from her mind as she talks with her Clanmates, eager for the conversation to continue on. It's something about the nicer weather, the ash washing away with the rain - she opens her maw to speak on the regrowth of plantlife, when the little patchwork kitten approaches her with a question. Blue eyes widen with surprise, and the medicine cat apprentice doesn't have an immediate answer. He looks beneath her as if she is hiding something, and Cottonpaw lets out a nervous giggle. His questions don't seem to end - and she doesn't fault him, for she was much like him in her kitten days.

"I suppose we would be, huh?" she jests with Bilberrykit, and she feels her own frustration press into her pelt like muggy, humid air. "But I'm not ready for a mate, nor kittens either. I'm still training, you see - I'm still Cottonpaw. Like how one day, you will be Bilberrypaw." She tries to handle the black-and-white kitten with grace, but anyone who knows her more intimately knows that somehow, the youth has struck a nerve. Her tail twitches, the circumstances of her position still clearly bothering her.

"And even then, I'll have so much work to focus on... I'm not sure I'll have time for kittens," she decides to say, though internally, she does not believe as much to be true.​
 
Cottonpaw, once upon a time, had been a threat to their existence. And, all the same, she had been the very catalyst of it. In a strange way, perhaps one could say that Rowankit owed their life to the medicine cat apprentice — not that they would be aware of this, however.

Utterly naive to the past that her father and Cottonpaw once shared, they listen to the blue smoke molly's words with silent interest. Some of her denmates liked to hound older cats with questions, some of the said questions being silly and repetitive, but Bilberrykit's inquiries were rather personal. Rowankit did not know the medicine cat apprentice too well; they had never given thought to the fact that Cottonpaw did not have a mate. The personal matters of other cats did not interest them too much, anyhow.

"Wouldn't Wolfsong help you if you had kits?" Rowankit inquires with a slight tilt of their head. They had not planned on jumping into the conversation, but they genuinely were curious. "He has kits, too. And a mate." So, Rowankit supposes that they don't quite understand what Cottonpaw means by having "too much work" for a family, especially when her mentor had one of his own. Hadn't Cottonpaw helped him when he was busy?

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    rowankit
    they/she; kit of windclan
    a shorthaired black solid/tortoiseshell chimera with heterochromia
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​
 
AS HE RAISED HIS FIST BEFORE HE SPOKE — For most of his life, Rattleheart had never been able to enjoy the company of a mate. It hadn't been an absence in his life that he had longed for, but it had been an absence that had always lingered. Especially after he and Scorchstreak had joined Windclan, and he had become familiar with the variety of different families that made up the clan itself. Mates that had loved each other for nearly as long as he had been alive, not to mention their kits that made up the warriors and apprentices of Windclan - even if really, they had been members of the colonies for far longer at that point. That was history far beyond his own scope, and a distinction that neither Bilberrykit nor Rowankit would be even remotely worried about.

Things had changed in the last few moons though, as Rattleheart had finally worked up the nerve to confess his love to Venomstrike. He'd been deliriously happy since then, even through all of the chaos that Windclan had been subjected to in those same moons. Now, he finally even got to enjoy the miracle of having his own kits - which, while he was delighted about, he knew wasn't for everyone. Not every warrior wanted a mate or kits, and the lead warrior could never imagine trying to force anyone into wanting them. Then again, he was an adult while Bilberrykit and Rowankit didn't have the same moons of experience. They probably assumed every cat ended up with a mate and children, regardless of their life or rank.

Still, sympathy for Cottonpaw drove the queen over to where the trio stood, long tail flicking out to lightly brush along the top of Bilberrykit's head. "Not every cat has a mate and kits, Bilberrykit. Plenty of warriors don't want either, and some have them later in life. I'm only having my kits now, and I'm many moons older than Cottonpaw." Rattleheart offered the medicine cat apprentice a smile, hoping that his words would be able to smooth over the discomfort that she was clearly feeling - or at least attract the attention of both of the nosy little kits. "Wolfsong had many things going on while he was dealing with his kits, Cottonpaw might just want some more experience first, too." The rule regarding kits didn't even pop into his head for the moment, the lead warrior not overly familiar with the guidelines that medicine cats had put in place for themselves.


  • 75034712_8183RsjuzqJmQXv.png
    longhaired black and white tom with pale green eyes
    51 moons old; ages the 1st every month
    afab; uses he/she/they pronouns
    homosexual homoromantic; mated to venomstrike
    sibling to scorchstreak, lizardbounce, and rabbitclaw
    currently mentoring downypaw
    somewhat difficult to befriend; wary but kind
    "speech", thoughts, attacking
    peaceful powerplay allowed
    all opinions are ic
 
Cottonpaw explains that she doesn't have a mate and doesn't have kittens; Bilberrykit frowns as he considers this new information. Surely, he thinks, there's someone? But Cottonpaw offers no names, and no one approaches like Bilberrykit thought they might, and Cottonpaw isn't hiding anyone in her immediate proximity. He checks beneath himself now, just in case he may have stepped on them, and then returns his attention to Cottonpaw.

"You should tell Wolfsong to be done training you," It is the obvious solution, after all. Bilberrykit is surprised that Cottonpaw didn't think of it, "And then you won't be an apprentice anymore and you won't be training anymore and you'll have time to do whatever you want." And then, anticipating another rebuttal of how much work it is to be a medicine cat, Bilberrykit adds, "Plants don't do a lot. I've seen them before."

To Rowankit, Bilberrykit nods in eager agreement. Someone else got it! "And if you two get too busy you can find another med-med—you can train someone else to do what you do!" And then a brush of fur against the crown of his head. Bilberrykit peers up at Rattleheart, still visibly animated from Rowankit's agreement. "Yeah, but Cottonpaw is pretty," Bilberrykit chirps and gestures to Cottonpaw to emphasize his point, "Pretty cats find mates first."​
windclan kit | black and white harlequin | three moons | tags
 

Witherkit was practicing his hunting crouch, it was looking surprisingly good despite his long gangly legs that yet to be grown into. he was practicing of course for his apprenticeship, maybe if he already knew how to hunt he would get to be a warrior sooner. That was the hope at least, they were eager to grow up. Being trapped in this tiny weak body was agony most days, why couldn't they just be useful already?

He is distracted though when his cousin, Bilberrykit, seems intent on arguing his case with adult cats. This would be entertaining enough. He slipped into the conversation, catching just some of it. The group is talking about mates and kits, there is initial disgust from Witherkit, sticking his tongue out even at the notion. That is the one part of growing up that he has no interest in. His siblings, parents and apparently cousins, are already enough to deal with. If they had to deal with kits? And a mate!? That would be too much work.

"I hope I'm ugly when I grow up then." He makes the statement very clear. If all it took was being pretty to obtain a mate, he didn't want it. Truly he should have been old enough to know that wasn't how it worked but he hadn't paid any thought to romance. Arguably even less than Bilberrykit, and the bi-coloured kit didn't know much about it either.


"speech"
 
"Cottonpaw cannot have kits." Bluefrost appears on silent paws, her green eyes luminous, her tone blunt. She sits beside Rattleheart, thick about the middle with pending children, and beside her sister, who shifts her paws so uncomfortably under the kits' scrutiny. She gives both Cottonpaw and Rattleheart a cool, curious look, wondering why neither of them had told the children the truth. "There is a medicine cat code now. Cottonpaw will never have kits."

And some part of her knows her sister's heart twists at this revelation. She remembers Cottonpaw's blue gaze, falling to her paws, as Bluefrost inquired after her heart's intentions. She recalls the softness of her gray pelt against Snakehiss', against Mouseflight's. There is something in her sister that yearns for family, for kinship, but Bluefrost is oblivious to the extent of that longing. She looks her sister in the eye, searching gleaming blue depths for truth.

Young Witherkit proclaims he hopes he's ugly for life. Bluefrost eyes him thoughtfully, tearing her gaze away from Cottonpaw's. "Ugly cats find mates, too," she offers, somewhat awkwardly.

  • ooc:
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  • Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
    — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring Brackenpaw ; previously mentored n/a.
    — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
    — penned by Marquette.

    lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.


 


The Tunneler had little stakes in a conversation between a nosy child and his medicine cat sibling, all the same, it did not stop the chimera's approach, smiling as if passionate to share his knowledge with the younger generation. "Do not fret, it is the plainest cats that find love first," he replied to Witherkit, eyes glinting in a pre-determined decision to elaborate. "Cottonpaw was betrothed before any of us." He didn't pause long enough to let the implication sit, shrugging his shoulders in a gesture mixed with disappointment and defeatism, likely only those closest to him knowing the true meaning of his 'teasing'. It was not a sibling rivalry, it was meant to hurt, to insult what he himself couldn't be insulted on (perhaps, in a part of his mind he could not admit to, it was because of his relation to Cottonpaw that he felt so comfortable poking fun at her). "Perhaps it is for the best that she fell out of favour with that traitor, to break a code would be a dire event indeed. To break a code with Snakehiss... well, the stars would surely weep." Whoops, had Bilberrykit known much about that?

Twisting his head like a swan, Sootspot's attention soon found Bluefrost, blinking at the finality of her statement. He would let the black cat's name linger, but it wouldn't be him who would elaborate, instead, his tufted ears shot upwards. "Ah ah, not quite!" He tutted haughtily. "StarClan chose her path, but she does not have to follow it. She would be allowed kittens should she yearn for warriorhood once more, though... one must wonder what that would do to Wolfsong." But say that their cursed ancestors shoot a message down from the heavens agreeing with her chance at motherhood, who would WindClan be to deny them?


 
Rowankit is quick to retreat to silence as soon as more cats arrive, steering the conversation and adding their input. They regard the older cats with listening ears, ingrained respect of their superiors deterring them from running their mouth like a babbling brook. The idea of a mate and kits was desired by some and not desired by others, Rowankit concludes, and some cats decide that they want them later in life. They were far too young to seriously consider what they'd want for their future, but they certainly wouldn't want to be stuck raising a litter as a young warrior. How... counterproductive! Rowankit could not be one of WindClan's finest warriors when they were bound to a nursery. Plus, that would mean finding another cat to settle down with, and they could not even fathom the idea of potentially courting one of their nurserymates. Yuck.

They narrow their eyes when Cottonpaw's littermate cooly informs the group that any dreams of her sister bearing children are simply unattainable. Medicine cats cannot have kits. Now, why was that? Wolfsong had kits; what had he to say about it?

The chimera's attention does not linger on Bluefrost for long, not when Sootspot chimes in with a curious word. "Betrothed?" Rowankit echoes aloud, testing the term on their own tongue. However, what Sootspot says next causes everything else to immediately fall away to the back of their mind. He brings up their father, provoking confusion within the kit. Rowankit had been determined to move on, to forget about that traitorous man who had abandoned his kin, but they still couldn't help their curiosity about him whenever he was brought up in conversation. "What do you mean? What does Sna— What does he have to do with Cottonpaw?" Their mind is too naive, too young to understand what Sootspot was trying to imply. Or, perhaps, a part of them was simply trying to deny the idea of any relationship between their estranged sire and the medicine cat apprentice. That could not be what Sootspot meant... right?

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    rowankit
    they/she; kit of windclan
    a shorthaired black solid/tortoiseshell chimera with heterochromia
    "speech", thoughts, attack
    link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​
 
When in camp, Whitedawn wasn't often far from the nursery, willing to do some kitsitting. This is how her ears caught the conversation, with the ivory femme slinking over silently as more cats gathered. "I don't think our clanmates are ugly or plain." Whitedawn's gentle voice spoke up as she came up beside Bluefrost, though her pink gaze was narrowed at Sootspot. She failed to see why the tom felt the need to bring her estranged kin and Rowankit's father into this conversation. Especially since her younger kin was now questioning his words. Thanks, Sootspot. As much as Whitedawn wanted to address the topic of Snakehiss, that was Cottonpaw's business, and would leave her friend to answer it.
[I'M BREATHING]