pafp FRESH SALT FOR THE WOUND -ˋˏ ✿ ˎˊ- ROGUES & WARRIORS

[LAMBKIT]

When the patrol had returned with their grim news, their raised voices had been what prompted him to stop playing and listen. He had slipped forward on soft kitten-fluffed paws and in his round blue eyes he had been spectator to the force that was his father. That filthy rogue needs to answer for what they did. In his young mind, Slatesnarl is the embodiment of what a warrior should be, justice incarnate. He just looks so strong as he stands there, fur quelled into a tempest, shoulders squared and claws dug into the sand. Lambkit wants to be just like him some day. He doesn't care what the other adults say, his dad is the coolest.

He had been ushered away from the drama and into the nursery by insistent paws, but he had already seen enough that his imagination was running wild, and a few days later, he gets an idea for a game. Rogues and warriors.
"Okay you be the rogue, and I'll be the warrior, now go hide and I'll hunt you down! If I tag you I win!" he squeaks t lo his playmate before turning and closing his eyes "1 2 3 4-" he pauses as a shadow passes over his eyes, cracking one open only to be greeted by a warrior he knows to be on his mothers council "Hi Sorrelsong! Do you want to play too? We're playing rogues and warriors!" it would be a little weird if she played with them, and she's have an unfair advantage, but it would probably be rude if he didn't at least offer right? Butterflytuft had told him he should always do his best to make sure everyone is included, after all.

// Please wait for @Sorrelsong? to reply
Also tagging @RAMKIT but no need to wait for her to post and anyone is free to be the kit he's playing with
Cat version of cops and robbers that is very obviously inspired by what happened with Kitestorm recently

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ- but I'd stand in the garden with you

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  LAMBKIT SKYCLAN KITTEN ; HE / HIM
  SLATESNARL X ORANGESTARLITTERMATE TO RAMKIT; HALF BROTHER TO CHERRYBLOSSOM, OWLHEART, GLIMMERSUN, TAWNYCLAW & EGGBOUNCE
  
  

  A fluffy cream coated tom with mismatched white socked toes, a white marking blazing a trail down his face, and striking blue eyes.

  ✿ easy in battle + no formal training
  ✿ difficult to befriend
  ✿ Peaceful + healing power-play allowed, anything else with permission only
  

 

[SORROWTHROAT]

-ˋˏ ༻༺ ˎˊ-

Prey in maw, Sorrelsong peers down at the kin of the clan's most important cats. His little eyes - stars even his little voice. He was one of them, huh? His plea nearly draws her nose up in disgust. Of course I don't want to play with you - Whelp of a whelp But a sharp sigh escapes her and reason returns. She cannot hold a kit to the sins of his father. And she should not think so harshly of him - Lambkit is young. To young to be saddled with the rage she felt for his blood. It was a small miracle she was allowed to walk within these camp walls, though she often choose to sleep outside of them now. It would be foolish to push her luck.
The prey finds it's place in the fresh kill pile, and she finds a spark of grace for the kit. "What are we playing? Moss ball?"
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— A chocolate point tabby molly with icy blue eyes and a slightly uneven pelt. She has small scars on her back, her shoulders and a slightly crocked tail.
— 71 moons old; ages the 1st of every month
— aro/ace. ; currently not looking
— child of NPC and ANWIR :: sibling to Duskpool, Shadowfire and Smokefang
— Mentoring Mercurypaw and Plumpaw && Mentored Flora
— loyal to Flora
— hates Orangestar and Duskpool
— "speech", thoughts, attacking
— peaceful powerplay allowed

 

[Cherryblossom]

Lambkit nearly runs into Sorrelsong, and Cherryblossom knows she must do something. Not even for the sake of her brother's impressionable, fragile mind, though that rules chiefly through her quick stride over, but for the sake of letting the bend-tailed molly know she has no business enjoying herself after making others miserable.

The calico appears with a flourish at the little prince's side, tail raised high with faux-friendliness. She lowers it to curl loosely around Lambkit, peering down at him with a sisterly smile. "Let's..." She lingers delicately on the word, and the sense of us and her it brings. "... not play with cats who hate our mother, mmmkay?" The edges of her smile harden as she looks up at the lead warrior, the faintest smoke-wisps of a snarl curling on the bridge of her nose. "I'm sure she'd be too good at being a rogue anyway," the younger warrior simpers.​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

Sometimes, when she runs into little Lambkit prancing proudly about camp or sleepily requesting to learn where the sun goes at night, she wonders how he could possibly be Slate's child. And then, sometimes, he'll bark something in an innocent kitten mew that will remind her exactly who his father is. Doeblaze's sigh steams around her face as the kit's words drift across camp to where she's paused halfway to the exit, pelt tidied and ready to be mussed all over again.

" Lambkit— " she begins gently as she crosses camp, a cringe pulling at the leftmost corner of her muzzle. Clan life was harsh, and it rarely discerned between the children of the powerful and the weak—but only a few moons old seemd a little early yet. Far too early for grotesque reenactments of Kite's crimes, crimes that had left sparks zipping under SkyClan's collective skin, waiting for the proper strike by careless paws to ignite.

Unfortunately, two of the cats probably least equipped to handle such a situation with the appropriate delicacy beat her to it. Sorrelsong, who with each passing day feels more like a problem waiting to happen—and Cherryblossom, who does nothing to help wiith delaying that. Doeblaze's brisk steps bring her close enough to catch the snappish tortoiseshell's barely-veiled derision.

" I think what Cherryblossom means to say is maybe you should pick a different game, Lambkit, " the tawny lead warrior swiftly cuts in, sending a pointed jade look the ex-deputy's way. Really, it almost feels difficult to remember that Cherryblossom was ever deputy at all, the way she acts sometimes. Perhaps the rancor wit the tortie employs now could make her a formidable foe on the political field? Or maybe she'd simply opt to swing a white paw and send it all crashing down. " How about you play Clan instead? Lambstar has a nice ring to it, dontcha think? "

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