camp I CRIED IN THE SHAPE OF MY DREAMS - out of the nursery at night

[AGATEPAW.]

It's late, and Agatekit knows she should be curled up with Mudfern and her siblings but... But she can't sleep. It was going to be another bad day, she just knew it.

Because she wants to cry.

Most everyone's asleep now, she thinks, and so she finds a place where she doesn't think she'll be found and she does just that. Why can't she just be like Stonekit? Does Stonekit even like to play with her, or is it just because they're littermates? Why does she keep feeling like this?

A thousand whys and what-if's flood her mind, and she stifles a sob. If Stonekit doesn't think she's good enough, if she's just someone who he lets tag along... What would she do if her idol, her best friend didn't actually care? She could ask her brother how he feels but... no. That'd be too much. She doesn't want to know the truth if it'll make her hurt.

Everything feels like a muddled mess in her head, and she doesn't like that. It makes her want to cry a little harder. Her claws dig into the ground beneath her and she tries to take in a few deep breaths.

Agatekit closes her eyes and tilts her head up, knowing that the stars will not answer her but still wanting to ask. "...What do I do if... if I feel like... I don't like myself? Or that I'm afraid something is wrong with me?"

She wants an answer, but hopes not to receive one, hopes to not be overheard.​

"Speech"​

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STEP FROM THE DARK TO THE LIGHT​

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[HOLLOWMASK]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- "Poor, poor Agatekit.." The voice that follows is one of faux worry, masked beneath a frown and shineless eyes. She circles around the nursery, her bulky body like a snake coiling around its prey. There comes no bitter or slicing remark from her lips, but merely a soft hum instead. She seats herself beside the young kit, putting some space between the two so she isn't touched by the squirming insect of a child. Her golden eyes direct upwards, blinking solemnly.

"What is bothering you so, that you must speak to the stars with such a tone?" She questions curiously, hiding her real curiosity behind a worried exterior. She wondered if this kit would be useful in the future, but alas.. She was merely a squealing, squirming kit who had no true abilities as of right now. She didn't dislike children, but she certainly didn't enjoy wasting her precious time on them either if it yielded no benefit to herself. Hollowmask rolls her shoulders, her fluffy tail patting the damp ground beneath her.

"As far as I can see, there does not seem to be something wrong with you. You look just fine to me, yes?" She smiles softly yet again, summoning up every bit of strength possible for this. She could pretend to care, she was good at that.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── はるか遠い遠い昔　巻かれた首輪 ⋅❁⋅ 人が欲しい人が欲しいと叫ぶ　呪いの首輪 ──┐‎

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• 

• 
  HOLLOWMASK ✩ she/her, warrior of shadowclan, thirty moons.
  ⭃ big, bulky body that stands at 10in, with long, wild and spiky fur. gives off weird vibes despite oftentimes seen smiling.
  ⭃ no close friends // dislikes nobody // no mate, no children.
  ⭃ will kill / will not show mercy / will rarely flee
  ⭃ [DANGER!!] this character is cunning, manipulative, sadistic, and controlling yet hiding under a friendly guise. please proceed with caution when interacting with her. ic opinions/actions are ic only.
  ⭃ attempts at healing is permitted, peaceful powerplay is permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by @icaria ↛ @icariarests on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[MARBLEPAW]

Little paws shuffle from a nest adjacent to her's. Mudfern's nest. Marblekit yawns and squirms into her moss, peering with one sleepy eye over her bedding. A kit, draped in shadows but recognizably Agatekit, is heading out of the den and toward the middle of camp. Marblekit scrabbles in her nest, curiosity driving her out after her denmate. The she-kit tilts her face toward the stars, and she asks, her voice soft: "What do I do if... if I feel like... I don't like myself? Or that I'm afraid something is wrong with me?"

Marblekit frowns, her whiskers twitching. Oh, she knows this feeling. Agatekit's prayer brings her back, back to when she'd been a spitting, hissing scrap of pale tabby fur, back when Siltcloud's absence had stung like claws across her belly, to when Betonyfrost's words had stung her like acid.

She opens her mouth to say something, but then Hollowmask slips from the darkness. The words she bears are sweet as ripe berries. "She's right," Marblekit agrees, turning back to Agatekit. "There's nothing wrong with you. Don't be mean to yourself, okay?" She tries for a smile, unsure.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Marblekit, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 5 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
  — mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
  — shadowclan kit, formerly a rogue. siltcloud x lilacfur, gen 3.
  — currently mated to n/a.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.
  
  

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[FLINTWISH]

These are not the types of musings a mere kit should be having, but Flintwish knows well what should happen is not always what does happen. The moon hangs high in the sky, but he cannot sleep. Granitepelt has died, and after seeing Siltcloud in... whatever that place had been, he feels too rattled to even attempt settling in his nest, especially now that he's moved to the warriors' den. It's a significant improvement over still being in the apprentices' den, of course, awkwardly oversized limbs splaying into his denmates' nests, but it's still... new. Lonely, maybe, were it not for the company of a few friends. Maybe he's just unsettled by Agatekit's cries; cries far too similar to his own in kithood.

Marblekit exits the den not long after Agatekit, and Hollowmask circles the duo with a smile on her face, words encouraging. Flintwish moves to join the odd crew. If ShadowClan's kits are this insecure, then what must their warriors be doing? But Flintwish already knows. He'd been the subject of their judgment in his own kithood, too close to Granitepelt for anyone's liking; reprimanded for the cold and spiny nature he'd grown as a result of their bullying. He still holds Granitepelt like a cross on his back, even now that the tom is dead. Dead, and certainly not in StarClan.

His dull eyes settle on the wailing kitten; his lips are settled into their usual frown. "What makes you say that?" he probes, ears twitching. If someone was planting these ideas in Agatekit's head, then he will be sure to have a word. "Did someone say there's something wrong with you?"

used to be one of the rotten ones ( and i liked you for that ) //

• ooc.
  
• FLINTWISH —— warrior of shadowclan, mentored by forestshade & scalejaw . granitepelt x starlingheart . littermate to nettlepaw, ghostmask ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a small, slate-blue tom with mismatched blue and green eyes. hard to approach and harder to enjoy, but beneath his spines he seems to have a good heart, and cares for his clanmates
  ✦ unlabeled gender / he, she, they pronouns / 13 moons & ages every 12th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will start fights / may flee / may show mercy. tends to fight dirty on account of granitepelt's teachings. will fight tooth and nail to win, as this is one of the few ways flintwish can probe his worth to himself
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[mockingbirdcry]

Mockingbirdcry has never slept . . . well, exactly. When she was younger and scrappier, it had been easy to attribute her restlessness to a fear for life and limb back in the comparative lawlessness of the colonies. If your biggest concerns where what you'd eat, where you'd sleep, and whether you'd wake up with your throat cut, it's not surprising that you wouldn't rest well, if at all. In the relative peace of ShadowClan, though, where her claws haven't struck blood for many moons, it's harder to pin down the reason for her expanded waking hours; that, and she doesn't particularly care to burrow into the whys.

" Agatekit? " she murmurs sleepily through a half - yawn, baring viciously curved fangs before velvety muzzle conceals them once more. The little she - cat isn't one of the denizens of her nest, but she recognizes her tri - color pelt and the smell of Mudfern even through the gloom. Soft tawny - cream ears just catch the scraps of the kit's question, and Mockingbirdcry's brow furrows in concern, the diluted tortie shaking off the last bits of sleep as easily as water from a RiverClanner's back.

A small clump of cats have already begun to deliver reassuring answers; she can trace the outline of Flintwish's small form and Marblekit's knobby limbs dwarfed by the looming bulk of Hollowmask. The latter two deliver placating reassurances, while Flintwish devotes his few words to probing questions. Mockingbirdcry gives the barest of thoughts to following his line of questioning, then deems finding the reason to be of little use; the primary concern now is ensuring these ideas don't take poisonous root in the kit's mind.

" Marblekit and Hollowmask are right, " the queen agrees in a wisp of a tone, each feathery tuft of fur limned white - gold by the hollow claw of the moon above. Strands of fur as whispery as her voice ghost in the humid breeze, suffusing her whole body with pale moonlight that nearly betrays the small size of the cat cloaked beneath her thick tawny coat. " There's nothing wrong with you, Agatekit, " Mockingbirdcry murmurs, dipping her head low and aiming to nose the kit gently behind one ear in a gesture of tacit affection. The slightest bloom of a logician's humor colours her translucent voice when she next speaks. " There's nothing that could be . . . wrong with you, anyways; you're a kit. Your only job is to have fun, right now. "

" speech "

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