- Jan 12, 2023
- 163
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clanmates tell shellkit that she shouldn’t drag hazecloud around. she’s heavy with kits, they say, as if the girl isn’t aware, she can’t be chasing you around all day now, can she? they ask this like a question, but never quite like shellkit’s answer — sometimes she thinks they don’t even want her to answer at all.
today, however, it is hazecloud that takes her out. she’s had a good day today, shellkit had ; the headaches had subsided, the place up in her nose and behind her eyes that throb with dry pain had eased with the moisture in the air. she’d even been watched by another warrior while her queen and lichentail took a nap in the nursery. it was fun, but shellkit liked to have hazecloud with her. she knew her scent like a bird knew the morning sky, like a fish could swim, like a cat knew it’s way home. it’s ingrained in her, marred into the curves of her tender skull ; safety. true, utter safety. it eases her like a poultice, puts that ever - present strain of illness seemingly to ease.. or perhaps she is simply less afraid of it with her around. as if the queen could take away the weight on her chest, the difficulty she had to breathe with just a touch of her nose to a gaunt alabaster cheek.
there is something for her to see at the shore, the ice - encrusted waves around the outskirts of camp where sand strews family across the grey - white expanse. the evening was still cold despite the gentler winds, a fine mist settling low across the dark, feeezing river. she eyes it warily as they near, only ever having witnessed it’s might from the center of camp. never allowed too far, the brittleness of her lungs not to be trusted near the waters until now. whats algae? to what’s shell? had come quickly once shellkit had finally infiltrated the nursery again, sidling onto lichentail’s side to watch the litter in her queens belly fight to get out. a shell was here, apparently, ” its safe? “ the words ghost her tongue, river soft and corroded with sick grit at the back of her throat.
her paws touch the bare sand and she shudders at the feeling, spreading her toes at the grainy feel. brr.. the waters look intimidating this close ; deathly still and deep, shadowed near the bottom. she can see shadows beneath. carefully, the child weaves closer to the molly, bumping lightly into her arm as her gaze never wavers from the icy depths, ” how close.. are we going? “
today, however, it is hazecloud that takes her out. she’s had a good day today, shellkit had ; the headaches had subsided, the place up in her nose and behind her eyes that throb with dry pain had eased with the moisture in the air. she’d even been watched by another warrior while her queen and lichentail took a nap in the nursery. it was fun, but shellkit liked to have hazecloud with her. she knew her scent like a bird knew the morning sky, like a fish could swim, like a cat knew it’s way home. it’s ingrained in her, marred into the curves of her tender skull ; safety. true, utter safety. it eases her like a poultice, puts that ever - present strain of illness seemingly to ease.. or perhaps she is simply less afraid of it with her around. as if the queen could take away the weight on her chest, the difficulty she had to breathe with just a touch of her nose to a gaunt alabaster cheek.
there is something for her to see at the shore, the ice - encrusted waves around the outskirts of camp where sand strews family across the grey - white expanse. the evening was still cold despite the gentler winds, a fine mist settling low across the dark, feeezing river. she eyes it warily as they near, only ever having witnessed it’s might from the center of camp. never allowed too far, the brittleness of her lungs not to be trusted near the waters until now. whats algae? to what’s shell? had come quickly once shellkit had finally infiltrated the nursery again, sidling onto lichentail’s side to watch the litter in her queens belly fight to get out. a shell was here, apparently, ” its safe? “ the words ghost her tongue, river soft and corroded with sick grit at the back of her throat.
her paws touch the bare sand and she shudders at the feeling, spreading her toes at the grainy feel. brr.. the waters look intimidating this close ; deathly still and deep, shadowed near the bottom. she can see shadows beneath. carefully, the child weaves closer to the molly, bumping lightly into her arm as her gaze never wavers from the icy depths, ” how close.. are we going? “
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i. @hazecloud HEHEHE
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delicate lilac - striped molly with sugarplum eyes she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of shell - touched cream, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined warm, sugared amber.SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. KINDLING xx UNKNOWN, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
currently exhibiting symptoms of whitecough. this includes a running nose, wheezing, sluggishness, and labored breathing. please keep contagion in mind.