camp I better ace that interview // pafp

[✧ Mottledove.]

⊹​⊹ LOOKING IN THEIR EYES WHEN THEY'RE DOWN ⊹⊹​

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mottledove & 23 moons & female & she/her & skyclan perma-queen​

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Peering down at skyclan's newest addition, mottledove can't help but think that time truly does make things easier. WHen she'd arrived in skyclan, belly round with kits, she couldn't possibly have imagine the future she'd be living. She'd been utterly out of her depth, a single mother far too soon. But somehow, she'd pulled through - even with aspempaw catching yellowcough, somehow they'd made it. And then shimmerkit had been added to her brood, a boy with no name but a pelt that reminded her of the stars. It had been just as awkward, but easier. And now, this - "Hi there, I'm mottledove," she says gently, voice warm and soft as she hobbles over to greet the kitten - sparring a brief glance towards dogbite and the others who'd been on the patrol. Her heart is already breaking for him, but she keeps her features bright and warm - she is learning, she is getting better at this. "Aren't you cold? Why don't you come over here - it's very warm in the nursery, we have lots of soft places to sleep and things to play with," Snow litters the ground, and she can see her breath lingering in the air - concern flits through dull blue eyes, ears twitching nervously as bottlebrush tail swishes about. Her own thick coat has only grown in size as leaf-bare begins, her winter coat only adding to her already sizeable fluff, but kittens are not the same - they get sick so easily. She doesn't know what she'll do with herself if this one gets sick too.

— I'll be there on their side, I'm losing by their side ♥

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: please wait for @antkit - opt. ping for @Dogbite for cute moments maybe
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a fluffy she-cat with a mane of fur and a mottled cinnamon tortie pattern. she is missing half her back left leg leaving her at a disadvantage in most things. mottledove is very quiet and withdrawn, a gentle soul. she and the kits she cares for adorn her pelt with flowers and 'paints' made of plants.
  
  — physically extremely easy && mentally very hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#74a2a5]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[antpaw.]

The little red tabby has done little more than shift wide eyes around the venture to what he'll come to know as camp. The journey is spent having from the jaws of an unfamiliar feline, who's quickly becoming the most familiar in the new, cold world. Tipping his head up to greet the queen, he keeps his lips sealed. Blinks owlishly. Mottledove. It doesn't sound like any of the names he knows. The owlish stare he's gained since being lifted and dumped on SkyClan territory unceremoniously is one that greets her. His fur sticks up at odd angles at the attempts to warm him up. His chest aches at the separation of the coat that he's usually pressed into, the most calm of the rambunctious litter.

He's also supposed to have a familiar fluff to hide behind, but he's been taken away. Never having much to say, his words are soft and short. "Mottledove." The small tom agrees. "'M Ant." He huffs softly. The words are like pulling teeth, usually resigned to the safe confines of his mind, words not often passing his lips. Politeness is inherent to his upbringing thus far, prompting the reply. He doesn't want to be in the clean cold snow that takes, that is only associated with the

"It's cold. It's not nice." The words are spoken with a tentativeness that has them landing as soft as the snowflakes that creep down to blanket the ground. Her soft words draw him close, he misses the clear ring of his mothers meow, but the soft ground of the nusery is oddly pleasant, cushioning every footfall. The kind of disbelieving unsureness unsteadies his legs, leading him nearby Mottledove. His tired gaze is drawn towards the entrance to whomever is occupying the entrance. A whispered request filters over. "It's cold. Come in."
​

 

[DOGBITE]

✦ His gaze had widened in disbelief when they first fell upon the small child, nestled in the unforgiving freeze of leafbare and the aftermath of a brutal storm. Despite the harsh conditions, the luck of this kit seemed to surpass even his own. Determined to shield the tiny bundle from the biting chill, they kept the kit close, expertly maneuvering over icy mounds as the patrol made its way back through the bramble. Entering the clearing, a sense of relief washed over him at the sight of his friend, a familiar face amidst the chaos of the evening. It was perfect timing and just the cat he needed. Trotting over, he carefully deposited the small scrap of fur at her paws. Evergreen eye blinking gratefully as the Queen effortlessly assumed control of the situation. While the scarred feline wasn't inherently suited for handling kits, a newfound sense of responsibility settled within him.

He'd willingly oversee the kit and offer occasional check-ins, but the finer details were topics for later discussions. Returning his attention to the kit, he was taken aback by the broken response, the most words he had heard from the youth during their brief time together. His tattered ears twitched curiously at the mention of the name 'Ant.' "Good to see you're feeling better, Ant. Sorry I didn't mention it earlier, but my name is Dogbite." He stated, the name feeling fitting for the tiny red kit. Following suit, Dogbite paused at the nursery's entrance, nodding in agreement before softly meowing. "Of course." Offering a small smile, he observed as Ant toddled closer to Mottledove, exploring the holly bush. He saw no reason not to stick around with good company.

Stepping inside, he aimed to lightly brush his side against the tortie, hoping to catch the molly's attention as he settled. "Thank you for watching over him. Stars know I would've been clueless." They admitted with a pinch of mirth, warmth returning to his pads after the earlier icy encounter. However, the ease of the moment was short-lived as a somber note entered the conversation. His voice dropped several octaves while they quietly shared information with Mottledove. "He smells of kittypet, and there were two-leg prints where we found him. No mom or anything. They just left the kid helpless and lost." Their scarred muzzle tightened into a firm line, a mix of sadness and frustration evident. Numerous questions lingered in his mind, but answers were scarce. Heartless bastards. A bitter and fitting label for the careless two-legs who abandoned the defenseless kitten. While they'd acknowledged that not every two-leg fell into this category, the act of leaving a kid stranded was a low that seemed unfathomable.

✦ OOC ✦ INFO

• 
  ———✧———​
  ✧ LH cinnamon tabby w/high white one blue eye
  ✧ child of npc x npc ; sibling to crescent and bear
  ✧ skyclan warrior ; ex-loner ; mentor to littlepaw
  ✧ 31 moons old ; birthday 07/01 ; ages realistically
  ✧ AFAB ; nonbinary ; he/they
  ✧ pansexual ; polyromantic ; single
  ✧ "speech", thought, attack, powerplay
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric
  
  ———✧———​

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