HEART GOLD ⅋ SOUL SILVER 𓆩⚔𓆪 BLACKKIT

[SHARPPAW]

It will be a full twelve moons of passing soon enough.

Yet, there has been a feeling this will only be the beginning.

Sharppaw doesn't expect much out of RiverClan for him to gain as he have been residing here for four moons as of lately. Friendships— they don't hold any significance to him. As often that his mentor would encourage him to open himself, he can't find the ease in reaching out to others. Regardless, most of their peers don't wish to approach them because of their intimidating nature; it radiates such coldness that can easily cut through skin and bones. He means nothing to them as they mean nothing to him either, and Sharppaw can simply live with that fact for the rest of its life only as long as it can evolve itself into a powerful guardian in the end. Loneliness is nothing to it.

Strength is everything to Sharppaw.

Even after the sun dies once more, its vivid sanguine across the sky fallen into endless black with brightest stars scattered everywhere, they haven't placed an end to their combat self-training. Their forepaws reach forth and fall, slashing the beaten reeds, then it repeats. Its claws glint through the merciless moonlight and, yet, the sight is menacing that can bring the witnessing stars to shudder still. Time and space doesn't exist to it. Only itself with its imagined enemies are in narrowed focus. Across its intense training, Sharppaw thinks about the enemies attempting to harm itself, while how they can be in many different forms of its kind or greater as bears and wolves.

Sharppaw thinks about saving those around itself—

Her, with lights leaving from wide glazed eyes—

Their forepaw slams against the wetland and a snarl escapes them, facing towards a shuffling sound. Piercing emeralds meet tender golds, and they see it's only a young RiverClanner. A carp is placed between them, its size akin to the other's, it's surprising it didn't end up swallowing her whole on her way over. Sharppaw's cold gaze returns to the kit and realizes it's just Blackkit. Her words tore across the camp, an ever raging promise in the declaration of becoming one of RiverClan's greatest warriors. It was an echo after their four moons made vow of bringing nothing but the high glory to the deep blue Clan. It was also this damn voice that had woken them from their wonderful nap.

Sharppaw tsks, the agitation flaring clear in everywhere of himself.

"What do you want?"

| @BLACKKIT
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[BLACKPAW]

"In all blazes, can you just try to relax for one second?"

Although Blackkit's words come across as rough against the cutting inquiry, forming a disharmony between great gold and sharp silver, the concern present in her eyes doesn't flatter even while they're rolled to the side. Despite being perceptive, Blackkit rarely sees Sharppaw around in the camp across her two weeks of being part of RiverClan. She doesn't often wander beyond her sacred quiet space during the nights, only wishing to mostly sky gaze or admire the river paths on her own as consumed by her thoughts and memories, before she would try to sleep within the tight nursery den. However, the sounds of battered reeds had eventually caught her attention.

Then there's Sharppaw who looks like he's planning to kill her.

Still, Blackkit doesn't flinch at the glare from Sharppaw and, instead, pushes the carp closer to him. "Eat with me." It's not a question or an invitation, but rather an order from a kit who can understand the ugly language of starvation. "I haven't seen you eaten anything today." As someone who can only roam across the camp, she often knows who had visited the freshkill pile or not. Bearing the hauntings of nearly dying with her adoptive father to hunger, since then, it has been one of her responsibilites to ensure that everyone would have at least one meal in a day, and she doesn't plan to have Sharppaw skip one despite him being nothing more than a stranger to her at this time.

She thinks she hasn't seen him eaten as often as he should.

"Even I have some self-control..." It is a mutter more to herself while she can't resist but offer the broken reeds a sympathetic glance, internally grimacing at the grim thought about how heavy Sharppaw's blows must feel. Blackkit often self-trains too, even as a kit, although at least she likes to think she isn't extreme like this muscle freak over here. He'll pass out if he keeps going at it without any attempted restrains. Hesitation forms when her face nears the carp, but slowly, she bites onto her side of the fish and the wave made in cold salt washes over her tongue. A pleased hum falls, seemingly created as a form of persuasion for Sharppaw to now focus on eating along.
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[SHARPPAW]

Her request of him "relaxing" causes his furs to bristle out of annoyance, although Sharppaw still have the keen energy in him to execute his sarcasm: His shoulder drops in casual state and a feigned smile is offered to Blackkit. Soon after uttering a blunt "One," he drops the play and deliberately tenses. Sharppaw fights the cruel grin that threatens to form wide upon his maw, part of him becoming morbidly curious to know how Blackkit will react afterwards. When Blackkit pushes the prey closer and demands him to eat it with her, Sharppaw scoffs, his amusement absent. "You're bold to want multiple big things out of me as someone who's just talking to me for the first time."

Nevertheless, Sharppaw is still silently impressed by how willing Blackkit wants to face them at this time and space that it's not typically the best to interact in. When was the last time someone at their age had approached to them for anything beyond chores or training related? He narrows his eyes when she states his lack of feeding for today, unable to sense if he should be surprised about how a kit had noticed his eating pattern or offended because she's putting her nose into some utter strangers' businesses like his own. "Isn't it past your kitty bedtime, hm?" Why do you care so much about me? The real inquiry is replaced with distraction that can hopefully steer her focus.

"Huh?" Sharppaw manages to catch her last words and grits their teeth. Fucking unbelievable, she is— "Self-control—?" Whoever Blackkit is, she surely have nerves of steel to not only intervene with their night self-training, but to drop all of this on them. Then seeing her eat the carp like nothing had happened only irritates them far more. "Big words from a small kit you are, I'll show you self-control—" It swings a forepaw upon her head, but the contact between them doesn't occur. Sharppaw slams its paw on the prey's center, its claws pierced into the wet flesh that is then pulled over; a rejection. "I suggest that you leave me alone now or I'll lose it." Its promise bleeds.
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[BLACKPAW]

Blackkit have met many different kind of cats even in a short span of her life— known few of the utter worst ones, in which she have to carry their blood with. Yet, there is something about Sharppaw himself that's infuriating to her somehow more than the three RiverClan bullies she had encountered recently. She watches him display a fake sense of "relaxation" and hearing the number, her veins begin to boil. Somewhere in Blackkit snaps. "What a shitty effort." she sneers at him with thicker sarcasm dripping over her words like venom, "I'm many things, thank you very much." And what is his damn problem? She doesn't think she knew any RiverClanners who are grouchy as Sharppaw.

Sharppaw's inquiry given, while reducing her to just a mere kitten, brings Blackkit to grit her teeth. Her tail lashes side to side in all piercing vexation. "I'm not a kit! I've been practically at an apprentice's age, you dummy!" With as much effort she can hold her volume back, her hushed whisper still rips the heavy night air between them. The tension continues to build that can break the whole world beneath their paws. Through her anger, Blackkit doesn't realize Sharppaw will actually land a hit on her and she holds her breath with eyes shut tight. But nothing burns. A wet smack occurs and Blackkit finds he only hit the fish, pushing it back to her. The rejection stings.

Part of her does regret approaching to Sharppaw in the first place when he's nothing but an asshole. "I told you, I'm not a kit." Yet, despite him being so, Blackkit doesn't move a muscle at his threat, abandoning him in the dark. 'He's saying that to scare me.' Lichenstar would heavily dissaprove one for harming their own Clanmates. Sharppaw won't dare to. She shoves the fish back to him and growls, "I have a better suggestion for you: Just shut up and eat with me." In the end, Blackkit doesn't run away as she still demands him from a place of sheer stubbornness. She doesn't understand Sharppaw at all, but she will be damned having to leave him alone with an empty stomach.

"...Please." Her fear cracks into the bitter night, sky shivering.
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[SHARPPAW]

A loud tsk leaves Sharppaw at the face of her stubbornness, a complete unnecessity. It wonders what is Blackkit gaining out of this. If she is seeking some form of connection— even in the negative kind, then she's a fool to believe she can establish one with it. "Seems like annoying is one of them." Regardless it's surprised to find how easy they're shooting each other sharp words, as if this have been a tradition between them for years. It mentally shakes its heads at the absurd thought and rolls its eyes at Blackkit's defence. Piercing emerald hues gleam before it cants its head out of false confusion.

Her statement repeats, earning a scoff from them. "Then why do you still have the 'kit' part?" Sharppaw can assume the possible answers, but the inquiry is more meant to be a heavy reminder in a jab about her current rank. They watch Blackkit push the carp closer to them with a pathetic growl, her intention resilient against their own honed nature. Faint amusement flickers across their eyes at the suggestion, then. They plan to return a snarky response to Blackkit, once more attempting to reject the strange order with a smack of the fish in her way, but the urge dies within them at her quiet plea.

In late moonlight, Sharppaw catches a certain dark glint across her eyes. Fear. It had noticed the uncertainty behind her action of first eating the prey. There is a lot about her that it doesn't know and understand, but, perhaps, she will finally leave it alone if it eats with her... Tsk, what an unusual kit Blackkit is... "If I eat with you, will you also shut up?" Without waiting for her response, a defeated sigh expels, then following its teeth into the scaled skin. The fresh salt taste washes, almost immense from the lack of preys it had today, yet, it's an welcoming embrace around itself nevertheless. Sharppaw says nothing.

Maybe it'll increase the chance of her leaving them be sooner than later.
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[BLACKPAW]

At the quick derisive comment towards her statement that is— to her regret— widely interpretive, a choked laughter in dismay escapes from Blackkit, instantly shocked at her wonder over his silver tongue. There's a good reason he's known as Sharppaw, she sees now. "I think annoying fits you better." The fact that he would even think to ask her that stupid question while appearing as he knows the possible answers of it is infuriating. She hisses, "My apprenticeship got held back for a moon." Nevertheless, she finds an urge to give him the reason that have a few layers behind it. She can respect this choice made by Lichenstar and Moonbeam. Blackkit is new and wounded.

Not only as the physical aspect of the latter, but emotional as well from the sudden changes along with the loss of her adoptive father and twoleg pair who they were close to. She bears such a short life, yet, so many significant things had happened across it. All of this time, she has been surviving more than existing. She's still a kit. She's just a kit— "You're not from here." Blackkit doesn't share the inner reasons of her delayed apprenticeship to him, of course, only having to point out the fact that formed after her observation: His scent isn't strong with RiverClan's, as his behaviours are unlike Clanborns.

Pride burns deep across Blackkit's veins, her head perking up with surprise, when Sharppaw finally gives in. She doesn't say anything to his question. Instead, out of most attentiveness, she watches him eat from their carp at last. She swears she sees his body relaxing upon the first fine taste of salted meat. Her lips twitch and she realizes it's been curled into a grin of victory. "You're so hopeless. Are you always like this?" Relief washes over the fear and Blackkit chases the kinder feeling through an another bite from her side. It's only a chuckle, yet, her happiness chimes high sweet into the leaffall night.

How can she just be quiet after seeing someone as Sharppaw being like this?
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[SHARPPAW]

It seems their assumed answers align with Blackkit's true ones. Words spread quick across RiverClan, so they had heard she stranded upon here. Sharppaw can imagine the delay from that event alone. "I look forward to your apprentice ceremony just so Lichenstar can rename you Annoyingpaw." They pause when they remember that most beginning parts of the Clan names would be given after certain physical attributes. Their gaze dwells over her curled whiskers. "Or Curlypaw. Curlyannoyance have a nice ring to it." They smirk and hit her whiskers, satisfied of the harder impact in their insult.

Sharppaw did make their "promise" that they would lose their self-control the longer Blackkit chooses to accompany them. She's lucky enough that it didn't break into the worst outcome. They squint at her blunt statement, bewildered at how she knew already. "Neither are you and some other RiverClanners." Sharppaw doesn't invite her to say more about their outer origins by asking the point of this statement, but maybe she will find a way regardless. Blackkit is bold, indeed. They lack care in origins that they believe hold little impact to capabilities and potentials. Anyone can be the most clever and powerful.

It knows it will become one of them in the end.

Sharppaw's ears twitch in annoyance when it senses pride from Blackkit. Motion of eating pauses and it glares at her when she chuckles, her delight a dreadful sound akin to a scratch long and deep against the rough surface. Question crafted with sick mockery breaks the wave of satisfaction from its meal. It flexes its sharpened claws, the temptation still coursing through itself. Morbid curiosity lingers. Can she fight? "If you mean working myself hard so I can become the strongest warrior, then, yes. I'll give you this reminder of how I am like the next time you think to approach me again—"

Its forepaw raises with an attempt to scratch across Blackkit's maw.
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[BLACKPAW]

...

Blackkit stares at Sharppaw with eyes wide as full of astonishment.

Curlyp—

CURLYANNOYANCE?!

"You little sh—" Her expression shifts into a glare when she realizes he's mocking her curled whiskers and she bats his forepaw away from them upon contact. How dare he? "Get your damn paw off of me. Don't touch me!" Blackkit doesn't leave him still, however. If anything, he seems to be begging for it to happen otherwise, but the thought only makes the vindictive part of her want to stay longer and see how far she can go to infuriating Sharppaw before the inferno will break loose from him. With furs bristled and teeth bared, Blackkit takes several deep and sharp breaths, trying to calm herself.

She isn't going to let him win this banter battle. "And I look forward to your warrior ceremony just so that Lichenstar can bestow you the most deserving name, Softhead, because you're nothing but a sore stupidity." Blackkit puffs her chest with a sense of accomplishment that she outbeat Sharppaw in their mental wound game; there's nothing for him to counterattack her insult. It's bizzare RiverClan could take outsiders like Sharppaw. What does he have to offer but his sharp tongue and softer head? "Don't you see you're being more rogue than Clanner with that attitude?"

Because of the earlier contact, she's been on high alert over Sharppaw's possible hits and it's no surprise then that he'd actually try to hurt her. Blackkit yelps while she jerks her head back to dodge the swift motion, faster than him from the differences of their body sizes. He even have his claws out still, what a monster! That does it. If they get caught, she'll shove him over. He did start this after all. Blackkit charges full upon Sharppaw and tries to smack his face. "Hah?! You can't be a warrior— even so as the weakest of all!— if you keep acting like this!" Him? The strongest warrior? What a hilarious joke!
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[SHARPPAW]

At the mockery in its warrior name, it growls loudly. Softhead. Sore stupidity? It'll show her she's even the worst case of so. Being questioned upon its character being more akin to a rogue than a Clanner, it scoffs and shakes its head in disbelief. Nothing from Blackkit is just ever pleasant for itself, huh. "Why does it even matter to you?" Sharppaw shoots her back a question. Nothing about her makes sense either. How can Blackkit be caring about its lack of meals to holding fear around food and hunger to being heated because of it in only a single hour? She's nothing but an unpredictable fire to be with.

"You may be an outsider like me, but we still hold vast differences from each other." 'But I'd never want us to be similar. You're NOTHING to me—' Sharppaw's thoughts are cut off by the heavy impact of her forepaw contacting its cheek, a near hit against the eye. Black dots dance wildly across its blurred visions as its takes a few steps away from Blackkit to compose itself. Once Sharppaw finds its equanimity again, although secretly impressed over Blackkit's quick movements, at her foolish statement, he can't resist but bark a vicious laughter. The sound can ripple the rivers near them.

Sharppaw runs toward Blackkit, though, swiftly moves to the side when she may think it'll attack her upfront so it can catch her side beneath its sharp claws and slam Blackkit's frail body against the wet surface. It senses a small hot pool forming beneath its paw. Disappointment sinks deep in its body. "Being a rouge or a Clanner— like either— it shouldn't matter, but I know even a kittypet can fight better than you." It isn't going to let anyone align its worth with anything about itself. It certainly will never let a know-it-all runt like Blackkit go against its ultimate dream of becoming the greatest guardian.

"Don't tell me you actually think strength can be defined by kindness."
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[BLACKPAW]

| CW : Dissociation, PTSD symptoms, and youth abuse

"Don't tell me you actually think strength can be defined by kindness."

Somehow, the sentence hurts greater than the harsh collision between herself and the wetland, the flare running through her twitching body from the churned stomach. His cruel laughter behind it, she thinks of the chorus that would haunt in every savage delight directed at her. Burning deeply, she attempts to tell Sharppaw to just shut up, but only the choked sounds fall. There's a sense of something leaving her body, hot thin sensations prickling all over the flank. Memories bleed over her, bleeding, bleeding, bleeding— laughing, laughing, laughing— "YOU'RE NOTHING, THREE! NOTHING!"

I see a kit gets slammed to the flat surface by another who wears similar colours and markings, her head landing hard first. While blood forms beneath the claws and drips over the side, two more peers laugh harsh along with him. Love doesn't exist in this dark place and neither are we. We are just nothing. Weak sobs reach to what covers over the entire sky, freedom. These sounds, feeble, yet dreadful, they only ask the world why. You were supposed to care about her. You were supposed to love her, even if she is nothing. Why don't you love us at all? The answer is full of sneers and laughter. Everywhere hurts.

Everywhere burns still. Heavy breathing rapidly builds in Blackkkit as she searches frantically for anything that can support her. She won't cry for help— she can't wake the whole camp up just for everyone to see her struggling. Seeing the river near them, she furiously rolls away with her pelt rid of Sharppaw's claws, then strikes the water surface over to his direction a few times as distraction. She winces from the flaring pain, though, doesn't stop until he's soaked enough to be caught deep within the night coldness. Blackkit recalls the training with her adoptive father, someone who loved her.

He was kind enough to her, as he had loved her like she was everything.

As practiced with her adoptive father, Blackkit dashes in zig-zag towards Sharppaw while he's still distracted. Before he can reach out to her, she fully lowers herself in swift speed and leaps as high as she can, hoping to land on his back. She hopes there will always be vast stark differences between them. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to find anything in common with him, even after many passing moons. Blackkit isn't ever going to let anyone like Sharppaw get in the way of reaching to her grand dreams. She will in the name of kindness. Love. This is how she fights— survives everything, herself.

The dark world blurs. "I do believe strength is defined by kindness itself." Her eyes sting at the vivid memories of her adoptive father saving her life from the sun shaped hunger, as Blackwater had done so too when she only kept trying to swim above the deep blue. Sharppaw is right, though. It shouldn't matter if one is a Clanner or an outsider, whatever the specific status of their origin they may be that depend on their capabilities. Furious tears roll over her cheeks when Blackkit remembers— she remembers kindness is the only thing that matters the most. Love, it will always matter more. "And I always will!"

Despite the pain still aching deeply, with every energy left in her, she attempts to Sharppaw's body to force him to move in higher unpredictability to where he'll go with a weaker balance, as added to his own effort of shaking her off of him. Blackkit notices the half-eaten carp that they had abandoned to their brawl and steers him there in hope to have him trip over it and crash into the river path ahead of them. Blackkit snarls, a new born determination wildly glaring upon her opponent akin to the great dawn striking the world to its golden blood. Sensing as more alive, she feels she can consume the sun raw.
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[SHARPPAW]

| Ending the thread here / CW : Death mention and general grim imagery

Kindness generally does not take one far in their life, Sharppaw believes.

This is a cat eat cat world where they all have to live in. A cannibalistic cycle where it leaves nothing but death and destruction everywhere in the end. Never, does the world care to consider for even a single delicate minute if one is a saint or a kit before taking upon their precious life in a cruel swift motion. Time does not slow for anyone or anything while space only expands across for more life and death to bear. Sharppaw knows that regardless of how powerful one may be, they will eventually meet their demise like every other ordinary beings. Yet, for itself, it only wants to die out of the most honour.

Sharppaw wants to die with the fulfilled promise that it made to its friend over the five darkened moons ago. One of us will become the greatest guardian. This promise doesn't die with her, as it has only been a blood beyond and star grasping. It becomes a dream of its own that Sharppaw will always chase after until it can finally reach its existence, with her in its deep slumbers. She meant everything to it and part of it had died by her sanguine side, within the deep blood of theirs and the hound's intertwined. Sharppaw doesn't want more to be in its path, even as grim and lonesome. Its best friend's death is enough.

Kindness is the slaughterer of the endless hearts and stars. In no doubt, it will soon kill Blackkit when she seems to be always placing others' life above hers, if she even has a worthy kind. Her life slips beneath its forepaw, though, it still breathes before it reaches toward the river by them. Sharppaw plans to chase after Blackkit, but is held down by the water splashed over to its frame. Shudder rips across itself within and it growls in frustration, more annoyed than distracted by her clever act. She's strategic, it'll give her that at least. Sharppaw dashes toward her who then leaps over, catching its back flesh.

"I do believe strength is defined by kindness itself..."

Sharppaw notices a crack in her voice and quiver across the soft sentiment... Is she crying now? It's incredible just how close Blackkit holds this thought— this foolish belief. Almost laughable, but still admirable. "And I always will!" Certain weight lingers behind her response that doesn't evince she's saying this with her whole heart. There's history to her words that shapes the value, similar to its own promise that it tells itself every single day and night. Sharppaw doesn't know what it entails, but the one thing it realizes during the intensity of their first moment: Blackkit only ever wants to live and die for love.

Kindness is the most terrifying thing, as so is love.

A loud grunt leaves Sharppaw who attempts to shake Blackkit off of its silver scarred pelt, its legs trembling by her weight with her own juddering. Sharppaw heaves and realizes it's quickly losing so much energy from the lack of meals for today. Annoyance breaks into itself and the moment it curses out loud, its forepaws bend backward by the contact of their abandoned prey. "SHIT!" Sharppaw staggers and seeing that they're becoming closer to the river, fear strikes across itself at the thought of Blackkit's head being smashed by the stones, potentially killing her from the severe head trauma—

It sees its best friend's head against the gray paved surface, splitted apart—

It shouts, steering its wobbly body away from the river path and purposely falls against its side with an intention to bring Blackkit with it on the ground. The impact to the world have stolen every energy in Sharppaw to fight further and a heavy breath leaves it choking on dust. Weakly, through the dancing black dots, it glances over to see Blackkit's frail body. Despite everything, relief washes over Sharppaw when it sees her moving still. Barely from shared exhaustion, but she's still alive as itself is so. It seems this is only a draw. "Fucking idiot..." Sharppaw falls still on the dirt and darkness follows them.

It sees its new rival with the moon and endless stars, bright as her.

Rare serenity rests between them.
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