- Mar 15, 2024
- 30
- 5
- 8
Tiny ears swivel back and forth in a test of their dexterity and awareness... there is much to live up to, she's decided, based on tales of her grandmother and given truth by the living, breathing example of Howlingstar. Family, it seems, is complicated in the way it intertwines with itself and though Mottledkit understands what being related means, in some vague sense, she cannot quite connect the dots on how exactly that all comes to be. Her momma had a momma... but that momma was not here anymore. It is confusing, dismaying, and mostly just sad... The concept of someone not being around anymore seems abstract at best, unrealistic if she were being stubborn. Why anyone would walk away from the ones they love... is a mystery unsolved.
Today, she opts to play with some sort of round, brown thing that had fallen from the trees during a blustering spring wind... it rolls easily between her paws, does not break when she hunkers herself on top of it, leaves smooth little scratches where she bunny-kicks it to see it slaughtered and slain. But... it remains more or less whole... and unbothered by her assault. A furrowed frustration finds itself swatting the annoying thing away entirely, though not without consequence as gleaming venom eyes watch it arc across the camp until- thunk.
"Heheheh," the tortoiseshell giggles, hiding her mouth behind her paws to stifle herself so her poor victim may not so easily recognize it as her fault. It is uncle Skyclaw... by some dumb stroke of luck... who finds an acorn to have smacked him in the small of his back. His eyes find her quickly and her laughter is quickly silenced with a quick, "Oopsie," but his agitated approach doesn't register as much a threat at all and instead, Mottledkit beams up at him so sweetly, with her pearl baby whites on full display.
"What happened!?" Asked obliviously, like a liar caught red-handed.
@skyclaw
Today, she opts to play with some sort of round, brown thing that had fallen from the trees during a blustering spring wind... it rolls easily between her paws, does not break when she hunkers herself on top of it, leaves smooth little scratches where she bunny-kicks it to see it slaughtered and slain. But... it remains more or less whole... and unbothered by her assault. A furrowed frustration finds itself swatting the annoying thing away entirely, though not without consequence as gleaming venom eyes watch it arc across the camp until- thunk.
"Heheheh," the tortoiseshell giggles, hiding her mouth behind her paws to stifle herself so her poor victim may not so easily recognize it as her fault. It is uncle Skyclaw... by some dumb stroke of luck... who finds an acorn to have smacked him in the small of his back. His eyes find her quickly and her laughter is quickly silenced with a quick, "Oopsie," but his agitated approach doesn't register as much a threat at all and instead, Mottledkit beams up at him so sweetly, with her pearl baby whites on full display.
"What happened!?" Asked obliviously, like a liar caught red-handed.
@skyclaw