- Jul 5, 2024
- 42
- 36
- 18
" watch it, stumblekit! "
the shove -- if one could call it that -- had hardly moved her on mitted ankles, but she'd felt it enough. she'd lived and breathed a constant risk of collision, always sturdy enough to take the full shove of her brother's stringy body when he inevitably charges into her ; someone once had said to be gentle with him. she can't remember who that was. she does remember her first memory in blistering sun, the first venture past nursery curtains that left her battering obsidian paws. she does remember that stormkit had been fine, and fine every time after that . . after all, he was the most falling - downest cat she'd ever met . . but he always popped right back up. this worked well particularly with bayingkits shoving - downness.
stormkit's brief collision into her heavily - striped shoulder is met with a heavy check of said shoulder back into him, aiming to send the scrawny black tomcat stumbling to match his newly bestowed namesake, a crooked grin stretching the white mottled patch of her maw. despite his weird, ugly legs and his crooked gait, he was one of bayingkit's favorite playmates . . spared the snarl and hiss her words implied, she will hover over him with a heavy sniff while he collects himself, reorients his paws in the strange way he always does. its a push - pull since early kithood, a butting of heads that has her papping at his sprawled paws, an adrenaline - pumping sense of recklessness that she couldn't find in stupid, weak honeykit or prim baby lightningkit. this was playing.
regardless of how far he stumbles, she braces herself for retaliation — waiting with baited breath for the tomkit to spring up and throw his body wildly at her again by crouching, letting her tail lash a violent storm at her haunches. her ears pin, forepaws tearing at the ground eagerly, " how’re you gonna, gonna be an apprentice like that, huh? " she prods . . and is quickly surprised by the fleeting feeling of her turning belly. ( nervousness? ) if he could wrestle with her, he was probably fine . .
the shove -- if one could call it that -- had hardly moved her on mitted ankles, but she'd felt it enough. she'd lived and breathed a constant risk of collision, always sturdy enough to take the full shove of her brother's stringy body when he inevitably charges into her ; someone once had said to be gentle with him. she can't remember who that was. she does remember her first memory in blistering sun, the first venture past nursery curtains that left her battering obsidian paws. she does remember that stormkit had been fine, and fine every time after that . . after all, he was the most falling - downest cat she'd ever met . . but he always popped right back up. this worked well particularly with bayingkits shoving - downness.
stormkit's brief collision into her heavily - striped shoulder is met with a heavy check of said shoulder back into him, aiming to send the scrawny black tomcat stumbling to match his newly bestowed namesake, a crooked grin stretching the white mottled patch of her maw. despite his weird, ugly legs and his crooked gait, he was one of bayingkit's favorite playmates . . spared the snarl and hiss her words implied, she will hover over him with a heavy sniff while he collects himself, reorients his paws in the strange way he always does. its a push - pull since early kithood, a butting of heads that has her papping at his sprawled paws, an adrenaline - pumping sense of recklessness that she couldn't find in stupid, weak honeykit or prim baby lightningkit. this was playing.
regardless of how far he stumbles, she braces herself for retaliation — waiting with baited breath for the tomkit to spring up and throw his body wildly at her again by crouching, letting her tail lash a violent storm at her haunches. her ears pin, forepaws tearing at the ground eagerly, " how’re you gonna, gonna be an apprentice like that, huh? " she prods . . and is quickly surprised by the fleeting feeling of her turning belly. ( nervousness? ) if he could wrestle with her, he was probably fine . .
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i. @STORMKIT normal playing …..
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- ” speech “
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BAYINGKIT
———————SHE / HER, KITTEN OF THUNDERCLAN. NIGHTBIRD xx RACCOONSTRIPE, SISTER TO TWILIGHTKIT, TIGERKIT, STORMKIT & LIGHTNINGKIT. 3 MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE DISRUPTED SOIL & WET FUR. PENNED BY ANTLERS.
a large, unsightly black tabby kitten.mongrelish, standing all thistlethorn fur and bared teeth, bayingkit would be thought roguesblood if not for the dogtooth crown she uncomfortably bears. a hereditary haunting lies in the shag of ornate black striping and long limbs that do not yet suit her wide, slouching shoulders ; her fathers daughter, laced in dredge and filth moreso than he’d ever been. a constant, incessant need to make herself small forms in hunched spine and weary, whale - eyed suspicion, communicating mostly in rumbling growls.. bayingkit tends to hold herself with a tuck tailed and trembling livewire of feral volatility.
