camp i dream in phosphorescence 𓇢𓆸 begging

[honeysucklepaw]

"Hmmm~ Hm.... Hm hm hmmm~" Velvet soft pads trace the dust-dirt earth in hapless purpose, wandering in swirls and scratches to dimple the ground with aimless marking. Sing-song tittering lacks any coherence, lyrics lost to the disarray of a mind still absorbing words... there are far too many and all the same not enough to explain the odd melancholy that lingers in too-young bones. The sense of being misplaced, adrift in an ocean of gorse-heavy scents, lacking direction or purpose- these are thoughts too big for one so small and yet they persist, images of shadow-twin features standing as harsh reflection. Brokenkit... his purpose was made clear, at least to her... He served as an effigy of all that was wrong with the world, would bear that burden and be the careful paws that mended it.

But what of Honeysucklekit...? What fate lies hidden in petal-soft identity. She scries the ground in hopes that some great sign will find her in subconscious drawing but the scribbles become more and more useless as they continue... Choir-sung hums die out softly as teeth peek from behind pulled lips to show her distaste for her great 'art.' It holds no answers to the secrets of destiny... and she is quick to muddy it by rubbing her paws wildly over the creases to obscure the lines again.

"Mmm...." The consideration for what to do next sits at the tip of her tongue, sedge-green eyes scanning the dip-dappled camp for someone to bother, for someone to ask for entertainment (StarClan knew her mother loved her, but only when she was quiet... only when she stayed out of the way). "H-hey," she squeaks, scampering across camp towards a cat far taller than she is (Can I be that tall too?) and pawing desperately at their leg with round, pleading eyes. "Can I... please go with you? Outside? I'm bored... I wanna 'splore! I promise I'll be quiet... and I'll stay close!"

A tiny, thorn-pointed tail lashes behind her, stretching to bat at the face of who humors her, an insistent begging in the motion. "Pleeeaaassseee? I won't tell anyone!"

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 'what am i meant to be? how long must i wait to know?'
• HONEYSUCKLEKIT
  - child of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  - a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes

​

 

[SCORCHSTAR]

༄༄ The newest members of the clan are small and dark-furred, and although Scorchstreak does not look particularly kindly upon either of their parents, neither does she look down upon them. The two certainly are a pair she hadn’t expected to procreate at all, and much less with one another—but they have brought new life into their clan, and Scorchstreak is hopeful that the kits will grow to be more than their blood. She also cannot help but to hope that they will take after her mate, more than the facetious Mintshade. The first kit, Honeysucklekit, approaches her as she means to leave camp, tiny paws tracing across the dappled fur of her legs. From her mouth fall a series of pitiful pleas, begging for a trip outside of the gorse-walled camp.

Golden eyes drop to stare at the kit. "No." She speaks, and believes that her words are final. The kit, however, persists. I won’t tell anyone, she promises. Perhaps she thinks Scorchstreak a fool, or a pushover like Periwinklebreeze so frequently is. Perhaps she thinks that round wet eyes will be enough to crack a stone-coated heart. But the calico’s conviction will not crumble—not to the likes of this kit—and so golden eyes roll to the sky, before settling on Honeysucklekit once more. "You will not leave camp until you are six moons old. That is the law of WindClan." A dark paw bats gently, carefully at the younger she-cat’s tail, an attempt to move it away from her own face.

"Unless you would like to ask Sunstar himself?" She would not truly subject her still-recovering friend to the whims of a kit, but the calico hopes that the offer will deter Honeysucklekit from asking again.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ she’s a growing bed of thorns

• ooc: —
• 
  SCORCHSTREAK ❯❯ she/they, deputy (tunneler) of windclan
  ༄ small, slim flame-streaked calico with fiery golden eyes. stoic and shrewd, but clearly cares deeply for her clan.
  ༄ mate to bluepool ; sibling to rattleheart & rabbitclaw
  ༄ mentor to pinkpaw
  ༄ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ༄ penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Mintshade’s kits are her kin, though Bluefrost hardly thinks of either Bluepool or Mintshade in that capacity anymore. They had been quick to break away from Sootstar, quick to denounce their blood-tied loyalty, and both look upon her with eyes full of what she perceives to be disdain. The gray tunneler watches one of them, fuzzy-pelted and triangle-tailed, pad up to WindClan’s deputy and pat her on the face, pleading to be let out of camp. Scorchstreak’s expression is stony; she does not relent, does not budge, even in the face of innocence, of unspoilt youth.

She pads closer, though she keeps a respectable distance from the tortoiseshell warrior. Green eyes glint like emerald-splashed marble under direct sunlight. She levels Honeysucklekit with a look and murmurs, “A true WindClanner respects the warrior code. Are you not a true WindClanner?” There is no love in her voice; neither is there vitriol. These kits are WindClan kits, whatever else they happen to be, and they should be treated as such.

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

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 16 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a.
  — windclan warrior. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue and white she-cat with emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.
  
  

​

 

[ROWANPAW]

Rowankit had always wondered what life was like outside of the sandy hollow. The nursery was feeling far too cramped nowadays, and even a move to the apprentices' den would not fully cure their appetite for exploration. They wanted to see the moors, the lands that their father's ancestors had roamed and hunted upon for generations. They wanted to patrol and train and do things that older cats did. They were quickly tiring of kitten play.

However, Rowankit was not known to be a rule breaker — in fact, they would not even bend them. Neither Snakehiss nor Gorseptal had tolerated troublemaking children and had been quick to drive discipline into Rowankit's mind from an early age. They knew what happened when one broke the rules. Snakehiss' exile had been a rather extreme example of that.

Matter-of-factly, the chimera meows toward Honeysucklekit with narrowed eyes, "You could be picked up by a hawk if you go outside of camp." It is not their intention to scare her or dampen her dreams, but they are stating simple truths. If she were smart, she would listen. "There are dogs too, you know. And foxes." And without the protection of the entire camp? The burrows? Forget it. Honeysucklekit would be as good as dead. They had been told so; their earliest memories consisted of cautionary tales warning against straying away from the nursery. Predators especially loved to prey on small cats, and helpless kits were perhaps the easiest meals yet. Honeysucklekit would be a fool to wish to leave camp now.

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙮

•  

• 

• 

  ₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾

  rowankit
  

  — they/she; kit of windclan
  — a shorthaired black solid/tortoiseshell chimera with heterochromia
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — link to full tags; @ on discord or dm @beaaats for plots!​

  ​

​

 

[Addervenom]

Never in a million years would he have assumed Mintshade to have kits. It seemed more like foxes would fly faster than the idea of his ebony aunt conceiving children. But, regardless of what he thought, her young tottle around camp, seeking things to get into and trouble to start. Addervenom trails behind Bluefrost, sitting beside his littermate as she interacts with Honeysucklekit. With an expression carved of stone, he regards the child with a flick of his tail. "Your denmate is right, many dangers lurk beyond the bramble of camp. Eat. Grow. Your sixth moon will come soon enough." The tabby drawls, sweeping his tail over his paws. ​

»»———- windclan warrior / seventeen moons old / he/him ———-««​

 

[sparkspirit]

The cool logic of his clanmates is something of a shock for Sparkspirit. He doesn't really understand why; he has known them for the entirety of his life, after all. Maybe for a moment he briefly confronts the memory of his mother and his littermates? Echo's indulgence in his play, and Lark's creativity? That they're together again (in part) still seems surreal. WindClan as a whole did. He laughs despite himself, a brief, disbelieving noise. Six moons old. Impossible. He had been on the moor for three at that point. It sounds like he's laughing at Scorchstreak; he realizes that too late. "You can't be afraid of dogs and foxes and hawks as a warrior," he says, mostly for Rowankit's benefit. He lifts a paw to poke at the kit, never quite making contact. It hits badly to recognize who their father is.

Swiftly, the warrior moves on. "Have you even explored all of camp? There are so many secrets around this place. I bet you haven't seen half of the coolest ones."

𝘛𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘌𝘋 𝘐𝘕 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘋𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐  ･｡ﾟ  🗲  ╱╱ 02.13.2023 𝘊𝘈𝘕𝘕𝘖𝘛 𝘚𝘈𝘠 ˊˎ＜

• OOC. —
• 🗲　　. 　 ˚　.  SPARKSPIRIT. HE - HIM - HIS. 17 MOON OLD MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. VERY LOYAL TO HIS CLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS.  ————
  
  
  ——  a trim mock tortoiseshell tom with mostly black fur splashed with the occasional patch orange. he has a singular white mark on the back of his neck shaped similarly to a lightning strike, and a small scar across the bridge of his nose. his eyes are a shocking electric blue.
  

  ✦ ECHOLIGHT x ELMBREEZE. ADOPTED BY YEWBERRY. BRIGHTFAM, BUT SOMEWHAT ESTRANGED DUE TO HIS LOYALTY TO WINDCLAN. ————————

• "speech"

​

 

[dimmingsun]

The sudden burst of numbers within the nursery's safe corners is truly a blessing, even if Dimmingsun is certain Scorchstreak deems it as anything but that. Recent warrior ceremonies means the apprentices' den feels a bit lacking after so many moons, but there is new life here, brimming with potential and the desire to go out. Dimmingsun is swift to ignore legacies; there's little reason to dwell on who the kits belong to and even less reason to compare offspring to parents. Mintshade might not make him as bitter as Snakehiss, but she is definitely not amongst his most beloved company — no doubt the feeling is mutual.

He announces his arrival with a light chuckle, fur along his muzzle flaring with the amused exhale. Honeysucklekit has already emptied her canvas and is ready for something more exciting than some haphazardly-drawn lines in the sand. He can't possibly fault her for that.

"Instead of foxes and dogs, I can be your mighty steed." The offering is punctuated by his body lowering to the ground, flank and back presented to Honeysucklekit; should she wish to take him up on it, she will have no trouble climbing that golden mane to get to the top. "Like Sparkspirit said, there's plenty to explore here too. You might just need a change of altitude to see 'em."
​

 

[honeysucklepaw]

Scorchstreak is decidedly, no fun... A stickler for rules that the tiny kit does not understand the value of. Her face pinches in a look of disappointed frustration, dramatically spinning away when the older molly presses at her tail to keep it at bay. The suggestion to ask Sunstar is one she isn't too thrilled to experiment with... he is an impossible, larger-than-life figure and she's sworn her momma has mentioned that he could very possibly be her dad, if she asked him nicely enough. "Well... Well maybe I-"

Bluefrost appears like a chilling, rolling fog, depositing a ice cold droplet down her back and sending a shiver down her spine. The warrior code? True WindClanner? Dismay colors her features in a mouth hung agape in dismay, "Noooo! I am, I am a real WindClanner," she protests with a whine. "I just wanna help... I can help!" Anything but sitting in that nursery all day waiting for time to pass, her watery gaze begs.

It does her no justice to have one of her own den-mate speak out against her, scolding her like he's some big grown up that has some real life experience to lecture her with. Her snout scrunches in distaste for Rowankit's threats, "That could happen to anybody- being a little bigger won't change that!" But for all her summoned logic, she is thwarted again with Addervenom's appearance. How... souring an experience.

Flattening her ears dejectedly, Honeysucklekit is more than prepared to admit defeat in the face of such a kill-joy crowd. At least Sparkspirit and Dimmingsun are a little nicer about it, dangling distraction and kit-like wonder in front of her face like a shiny new toy. "Oh yeah? Like what," she asks with a tiny huff. What could possibly be cooler from a tails-length higher up?

mother tell me 𓇢𓆸 will you stay?

• 
  'what am i missing? what's left to wait for?'
• HONEYSUCKLEKIT
  - child of wind-swept moors
  - she/her
  - daughter to mintshade and gracklestep
  
  - a solid pitch she-cat with fern-green eyes

​

 

[brokenpaw ♠]

————————————————————⊰♠♠♠⊱———————————————————
Brokenkit is drawn to the world that lay beyond the sandy incline of the hollow, as curiosity often worked in such ways. Only a few pawsteps beyond the gorse and heather, and he could breathe the same air any other apprentice or warrior would. Brokenkit imagined it not to feel so stuffy of milkscent and warmth. Instead it would be quiet, damp and peaty. Like how the apprentices did when returning from training.

He is a kitten of few or less words. Taught to be silent in favor of affection which quickly turned into silence in return for the same. Mintshade was not very fond of what he had to say, or how his voice trembled and croaked in each syllable. She seemed happiest (which still didn't sound correct) when he opted to say nothing at all.

But Honeysucklekit was different. Everything about her was perfect- she was pretty, she sounded pretty, she walked pretty, she breathed pretty. Brokenkit is sure his sister could repeat the horrors of WindClan's bloody past and Mintshade would brag about how eloquently she spoke. Today she used her voice to beg and pry for the chance to do only those old enough can- to leave camp. In his usual fashion he only watched, paws stiff and ready to jump if he needed.

She approached Rattleheart's sister first, the mean one, where her first failure lied. The deputy wouldn't budge for anyone. She is a mountain, and Honeysucklekit is but a gentle breeze rolling against it's snowy peak. Bluefrost challenged that to even consider breaking the code was breaking loyalties to WindClan, where the others take on stupid attempts to bait interest back into staying campbound.

Have you explored all of camp? Brokenkit wanted to scoff. They lived every hour of daylight in the hollow, of course they have! While his sister measured the worth of their offer, Brokenkit moved his citrus stare onto Scorchstreak.

COMPOSURE - SUCCESS

"I'll ask Sunstar." His mew is hoarse from both the unfortunate string of vocal chords he was given and perpetual lack of use. "I'm not scared."

♠ i swear to god, i did what i could ———— ♠ i practically begged you

•  
• 
  
  
  Brokenkit
  —⊰⋅ kit of windclan
  —⊰⋅ he/him
  —⊰⋅ mintshade x gracklestep
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ sh solid black tom with yellow eyes
  

​

 

[dimmingsun]

Honeysucklekit does not take him up on his offer just yet, but Dimmingsun is perfectly content staying down, eventually letting his legs give out so he can flop to the ground. Is this what a queen's life is like? Lounging about in the middle of a crowd full of kits, entertaining their ideas... all fun and games, right up until one starts screaming bloody murder. Yeah, that's not for him. The idealized version sounds much more pleasant.

He watches the sister argue with warriors (and a denmate for good measure, too), and the brother make a decision right in front of him. Brokenkit — the name sounds bitter on his tongue — seems determined.

Dimmingsun addresses Honeysucklekit first. "I dunno; you tell me. I've seen the camp from this angle for so long now... I'm sure I miss lots of interesting stuff every day." He dangles the promise of discovery before fern-green eyes, hoping it's shiny enough for her to bite on. Too much time had passed since he was a kit himself; Dimmingsun doesn't even try pretending to understand how a young mind operates, how it picks and chooses what seems fun and what is dreadful. He is just fine with leaving that up for the pair.

"Oh, this should be good," he murmurs, looking at Brokenkit next. Sunstar has always managed to handle too-curious and too-decisive kits before... has that changed? At the very least, he surely wouldn't snap at an innocent kitten wishing to expand his horizons... right? "I admire that fearlessness of yours."
​