pafp fly across the globe .. history lesson

can we leave it behind? It was a rare event seeing the dark tom cater to the kittens roaming about, but with his warriors working hard at rebuilding nearly every inch of camp, he figured it would be worth keeping them entertained. Away from not-so-safe reconstruction going on. A bit of storytelling, learning their history, might not be so bad. He wasn't sure how much they actually knew. The time before ShadowClan had broken into its own piece of the marsh was not as uniform as today. Food was a larger insecurity most days, trying to house so many cats. Spats between marsh cats were common, impossible to get along with everyone, but Sabletuft had felt a sense of belonging. Had made it a home, him and Rye.

"Alright Swankit, let me tell you about what the forest was like before we had StarClan." He spoke loud enough in some hope his denmates would overhear and come gather. "Before our leaders were gifted with nine lives to guide us, before we had any safety in medicine or cats that knew as much as Starlingheart." — tags

// pls wait for @swankit to post!​
 
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NOW I KNOW WHAT'S REAL, WHAT'S FAKE

Swankit has always been fascinated by stories, the more fantastic the better. Older cats seem to prefer true stories, but Swankit really doesn't mind whether a tale is true or fake. Anything that can capture his attention will do. And mister Sabletuft, he promises an interesting one. Swankit's attention is rapt. Unlike some of the other kits, he is not so in need of attention to keep him from making trouble, but it does him well regardless. Gets his mind off of things. When his mind wanders, his paws do too, and that doesn't seem to lead to anything good.

Now, Swankit sits still, half-lidded eyes blinking up at Sabletuft as he listens. "Before StarClan?" he murmurs softly. He still doesn't quite understand the concept of StarClan, though everyone seems to expect him to. It's where the cats who don't wake up go. So... where did they go back then?

He quiets as Sabletuft continues. No medicine, no leaders with nine lives... "Sounds scary..." he says softly, tone flat. Maybe Sabletuft wasn't scared, since he's strong and all. Swankit thinks he would've been scared, though.
RATHER SLEEP THAN STAY AWAKE
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  • //
  • SWANKIT named for his pale fur, after his maternal grandmother.
    — he/him. 3 moons.
    — shadowclan kit.
    — quiet and dreamy.

    penned by saturnid.​
  • "SPEECH"
  • Untitled147_20230514003200.png
 

Nettlekit shared a love of stories with Swankit; so much was clear during fleeting games of make-believe, during which the cinnamon-and-white tom would assume the role of an award-winning actor with the voice-projection of a leader making an important announcement. Anything fantastical, anything unreal... it was thrilling, really. And even this- overhearing Sabletuft and knowing this was history rather than conjuration, it illuminated his blue gaze just the same.

He did not live in the nursery, but had been spending more time nearby recently to sate ceaseless social need, therefore was lucky enough to be able to hear this story. But- but, he didn't just want to hear. He wanted to listen- to have Sabletuft's eyes on him some of the time, a student of this tale- he wanted to be told the story, rather than just eavesdropping on it. So, he settled beside the pale tom and flashed the older warrior a charming grin (one that looked more charming in his head, settling a little awkwardly on such youthful features). "Can I listen?" A snowy head tilted, and blue eyes glided toward Swankit. Sounds scary. "It does, doesn't it?"
penned by pin ♡
 
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He has to wonder what it is that draws kits to Sabletuft. This is the second time he's found him speaking with them, namely Nettlekit, who happens to be in attendance yet again. Rosemire can only hope that his retelling of a not-so-distant past is better than his bear speech, and less hackneyed than his answer to Nettlekit. Otherwise, he'll have to consider his respite from kicking shape back into their wrecked camp a complete bust.

His pale gaze whisks across the two rapt listeners, who are understandably unnerved by the image Sabletuft has cast thus far. Only natural to fear what isn't known, though in truth, this reality is not so different from the past. Fewer faces, maybe, but after last leafbare— well. They can't even claim to have fuller bellies. "It wasn't so bad," he says with a shrug of broad shoulders. "But you wouldn't have been named Swankit or Nettlekit, if you were born then. I used to be Roseal, and Briarstar —our first leader— was just Briar." His smile's a knowing one as he gauges the kits' reactions, all while he sidesteps the beckoning of the bottomless drop Briar's name invoked.
 
invis.png
It wasn't like Mothpaw didn't know the history- okay, he definitely didn't. But that was okay, right? His ears twitched as he heard the kits and warriors conversing, and decided he was going to approach, pushing to his paws and padding over from the apprentice's den. Mothpaw's tail twitched, dipping his head in greeting. After all, he should he respectful, right? Quietly, Mothpaw settled down, listening in with perked ears. Curiosity started to burn within him, and he just had to say something.

It wasn't like you could keep him quiet. "Why.. why did they add paw and kit?" Mothpaw prompted, his eyes wide and ears perked as he leaned in. Definitely interested.​
"speech"​
 

†—— the harlequin kit sees a couple of other pelts, one of them a familiar cinnamon-and-white, clustered around a dark-furred cat. she approaches silently, prowling, her small bicolor paws quiet in the perpetual muck slicking every surface as she slinks eelishly about to reach the group. huge midnight eyes watch the cat's backs before ghostkit emerges amidst them with a trace of a sound, staring and silent. she seats herself without a word, white and black fur ghostly and her eyes piercing the other cats like starless skies pinned in her sockets. eyes without a soul, one might think, dull and without a shine to them like the ancestors that apparently roam above.

"it sounds fun." she mews, tone flat, eyes fixed on the black and white storytellers in turn. and it does—a world where she could do what she wanted without starlingheart telling her to "apologize", a world with less of the morals ghostkit unknowingly lacks. her confusion, her poison, goes beyond ignorance; there is a void inside of her where there should rightfully be an understanding she simply does not have, a meaning to the tears and blood of others. more than just being bad, she is fundamentally missing something, some spark behind the pale moonface she turns upon her new companions.

"yeah, why aren't i just - just 'ghost'?" she questions, prying, repeating mothkit's words in question of a past she doesn't understand, not having lived it. briarstar is a foreign name to her for the most part—except for one thing. with this thought, she mews, "somebody told me i have fur like briarstar once, see?" face blank, she pokes at the feathery ruff of spiky fur curling at the base of her neck.


  • ooc: ——
  • † ghostkit — named after the deceased ghostpaw
    she/her ; afab cisgender female — shadowclan — kit — 2 ☾s
    —— ghostkit is the daughter of the soft-spoken medicine cat starlingheart and her possessive mate, granitepelt. she looks just like her mother, and while she can be a little difficult, there's nothing really wrong with her ...... right?
    —— smells like milk, herbs, and .... iron? ; sounds like tbd ; speech in #EB80B7 ; thoughts in #253DC6
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim (kitten)
    —— too young for romance ; open to enemies, "friends", tormenting other kits, plotting ; not open to battles, romance
    penned by dejavudesklamp9 on discord for plots
  • shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

 

Ferndance was older than StarClan's discovery. As she daintily found a seat nearby, lazily picking dead leaves and bugs out of her fur as Sabletuft began his story, she recollected how much... easier life had been without fear of being smitten at any moment by the dead. Traveling with her family on an open path with naught but their pride and each other; no clans, no faith, nothing but the desire to do whatever they pleased. It was easy to think it would've been that way forever, now, that possibility should this clan thing not work out seemed uncertain. Questions began pouring in from the kittens and a large ear swiveled to the side to listen in, a wedge-shaped head slowly following. Blinking like an owl, Ferndance's mouth moved before her brain. "So we know what rank you are. Some of you kittens look way too big to be kits or way too small to be apprentices, changing your names makes things easier," she meowed, having next to no clue if that was the true reason behind the names. She hadn't paid much attention to her induction, all she remembered was the suffix 'dance' being given to her rather quickly - had Briarstar liked to dance?

It wasn't a thought that continued for long. Ghostkit mentioned looking like Briarstar and leafy green eyes began to squint as she tried to see the resemblance. She didn't remember Briarstar having a stark white mask, though she might've had fur that was as jagged as the tip of a holly leaf. A long time had passed since she'd seen the late leader, but one thing remained certain: Ghostkit certainly didn't look like her now. "I... don't think Briarstar has fur anymore," she pointed out innocently enough, unsure of the logistics of that. Did StarClan give you your bones back? It would be awfully inconvenient to have bones in StarClan, bones just got in the way. "Or eyes... or ears... or even really a neck..." More and more body parts were listed under her breath until, after a dozen seconds or so, she'd ran out of words. "But... if you mean when she was alive... I absolutely see the resemblance." Her simple smile did little to hide the truth: Ferndance did absolutely not see the resemblance.

 
can we leave it behind? And like little gnats to a flame they gather, some gnats more like moths, like Rosemire and Ferndance, but he doesn't object. If anything, they could end up being more helpful than not, which surprisingly Ferndance fulfilled. Before quickly backpedaling on being anything but grim. The dark furred tom sighed before twitching his tail dismissively.

Has she ever shared the thoughts of an easy life before their dearest StarClan overseers ascended, he would have agreed. StarClan was not the only afterlife to exist beneath the forest or even the entire stretch of sky beyond the trees and river. He believed in something else. His soul would not pass onto their starry paths, but flutter about the leaves of the wind. Or the chilled breath that greeted them to the first morning snow.

"Like Rosemire said, many of your Clanmates had different names before we settled completely. Some more commonly known to the nature in the forest, and others more... creative. No meaning behind it other than a name, like Loki's. As StarClan laid claim to the forest, we attuned to it, and name our kin after what these woodlands harbor."

He added a bit more to Ferndance's explanation. "Those ranks also show milestones of what you have earned. As a kitten, you earn the opportunity to learn of your Clan. Of it's customs and how to treat your Clanmates. As a -paw, we know you are still learning the life of a warrior. There is plenty of expectation, but even more potential with that rank. But you have earned your place to learn to defend and honor your Clan."

Sabletuft thought a bit more for a moment before his eyes rested on Swankit and Nettlekit. "Before we split into five, my mate and I followed Briarstar when she was still Briar. She led the swamps with bravery and valor. No one could ever take her home from her, and she would have fought till the forest was upside down if it meant doing what was right." What she had them believe what was right. "But it was still... disorganized. No defined law like the warrior code. You lived beside cats of different ambitions and morals, and without any set of boundaries or expectations across all of us, it caused disruption. The warrior code, it isn't perfect yet. But as we grow with the Clans so will the laws of the forest." — tags