private I feel for your every little issue ƚƚ Howlkit

[Houndshade]

There's a desire to keep her claws on the pulse of the gossip within ThunderClan, there's a quiet power to it. She enjoys it more than anything that could actually be of use, maybe it's because this is something that she doesn't have to work for. It just comes to her whenever they want it to, what's not to like? There had been a group of kits and Coltpaw guided to Gentlestorm's den earlier in that week. Later finding out that they had brawled, brawling may be too harsh a term, kitten spat just sounds lame though! So a brawl it is, who started it depended on who she asked, kits are fickle things and easily swayed. Their loyalties are clear as day when asked about this and she didn't particularly have the patience to work through them to find out what actually happened. Anyone older is no good either, they'd either roll their eyes or ask why she cares so much about something so tiny.

Maybe they care because she just likes to know things or maybe she cares since one of the parties involved is a sibling to Fallowbite. The two aren't close, they insist that they're friends but she isn't sure if it actually agrees with her about that. There was a curiosity to know just how much Howlkit takes after it's older sister, both potentially being biters is a big sign. With her is a squirrel but oh it's much more than that, it's a promise of a conversation, a potential future friendship. With a dainty trot they find the kitten behind the elders den, it truly seems like everyone just keeps finding new places to try and shield themselves from the perceptive eyes of their clanmates.

"Howlkit, have you eaten today?" She questions around the prey in her jaws, waltzing to a respectable distance of the kit and setting down the squirrel. Remaining there, just shy from it's personal space but close enough to indicate that they didn't plan on leaving any time soon. "So! Sent to the medicine den huh?" They push aside long strands of fur from her face, taking the time to groom the fur that resided by her chest. Keeping a calm air, one that borders on callous and uncaring.

"Who started that anyways?" They're direct, from the limited understanding she has for this kit they thought maybe being direct and skipping the fluffy small talk might actually get her what she wants.

@HOWLKIT

​

 

[HOWLPAW]

Howlkit sits behind the elders' den, its amber eyes scanning the dirt below, clawing absentmindedly at the ground as its mind drifts. It always likes to sit in quiet places like this, tucked away from the noise of the camp. It likes the silence. The quiet gives it time to think, to observe without interference. In a world where everyone seems to be in a rush to talk or act, Howlkit prefers the stillness. The sound of soft pawsteps approaches, the rhythm deliberate and measured. Howlkit lifts its head slowly, amber eyes narrowing slightly as it catches sight of the approaching cat, a squirrel in her jaws. It's clear she isn't here for casual small talk. Her words confirm as much.

It stares at her for a moment, silently assessing. She's close enough to make her intentions clear but far enough not to invade its space. Howlkit appreciates that. It isn't one for pleasantries either, so it doesn't respond immediately, instead watching her with that eerie, distant gaze that often unnerves others. She sets the squirrel down, a clear offering, but the question lingers in the air, hanging between them like a challenge. Her voice is calm, almost feigning disinterest. Howlkit doesn't flinch. It's learned long ago not to let others get under its skin, and besides, it's used to the curiosity. It's always curious glances, hushed whispers, and questions just like this one.

Howlkit's eyes flick up to meet hers, sharp and unblinking. The mention of the fight tugs at something deep inside it. Not anger, not quite, but a simmering unease. Fights always remind it of something darker, something it doesn't want to think about. "It doesn't matter," Howlkit replies, its voice low and deliberate, mirroring the carefulness in its every movement. It doesn't want to be drawn into a conversation about its actions or anyone else's. Though it had had its reasons, it almost feels as if no one ever believes it, than everyone will always take whatever side is against it. What's the point in defending itself if it won't be believed anyways? But the other cat's curiosity won't be satisfied with vague answers, Howlkit can tell. She's here for something more.

"Why do you care?" Howlkit asks, its voice quieter now, more curious than accusatory. It tilts its head slightly, watching her with those sharp, calculating eyes. She's brought a squirrel, sure, but this isn't about kindness. It's about information. Howlkit knows that game all too well. It knows it has a reputation to uphold—or, at the very least, a reputation others have built for it. The kit with a silent stare that makes others uncomfortable. The feral child who will bite anyone who comes too close. The cat who is willing to attack anyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It isn't interested in living up to that reputation, but it isn't interested in fighting it either. It looks at the squirrel she's brought, considering the unspoken offer. A conversation, perhaps. Or maybe something more. Howlkit isn't naive—it knows how to play this game too. But it isn't in the mood. With a slow blink, it looks away from her, back toward the ground. "I've eaten enough," it says quietly, its tone flat but final. If she wants more, she'll have to work harder for it. Food is a start, at least, but it doesn't trust her. Perhaps if she gives it reason to be interested, it may answer her questions. It's willing to consider it, at least.​

 

[Houndshade]

It seems that it's going to be difficult to ask it anything, Houndshade can't really say she's surprised. Howlkit and his littermates seemed like the quieter types, taking after their half siblings in their early days. "If you say so" she answers breezily with a shrug, an ear flicks at the guarded measured tone that the kitten carries. While they're known to stir up a scene every so often if her whims dictate it they were mature enough to be aware of her surroundings. To know when not to say things or to know what the right thing to say would be.

It's because of that maturity that they pause in regards to the feral kittens question. Why does she care? "I want to hear both sides, how else am I supposed to know a full story?" She tucks her tail undeneath a hind paw, never looking down at the squirrel after the initial glance to make sure they can place it carefully. It's up to him wherever he wants to accept or deny it, in their eyes the food is secondary. Just a means to an end, if it kept Howlkit relatively happy and full then that was just a bonus. "Anyone I've asked only seems to speak neutrally or in Twilightkits favour. Which is fine, I haven't heard it from your perspective, though." They shrug bringing a paw to pat down the long wisps of ashen fur gathered at her neck and chest.

It's a genuine act of casualness, they are so painfully casual it would feel like a new cat entirely if she tried to be formal. Wherever it worked in her favour here or not is another question, one that she is admittingly very curious to find the answer to. While they would be disappointed if nothing is gained from this conversation she could live with it, her own imagination filling in the blanks just fine. It's eaten enough, which is another disappointment but they don't show it, face painfully neutral as they nod.

"That's alright, would you want me to find someone else to eat it then?" It's a test of sorts, to see where she stands with the kitten. If it wanted her to leave right now or if she could squeeze in a few questions of her own. "I had my own nursery squabbles as a kit, all rather boring really. I know the reasoning behind my own, I was just wondering if yours was different" her own had been a very heated game of mossball, it's rather silly to think back on. There's an idle wonder if one day Howlkit will look back at these events and find them just as silly in kind.

​

 

[HOWLPAW]

Howlkit's eyes narrow as he watches Houndshade, stepping forward with a baring of his teeth. He crouches, his body tense and low over the squirrel, fur bristling in silent challenge. He isn't fooled by her casual tone or breezy manner—he knows better than to trust words that come so easily. The offer to find someone else to eat the squirrel? That earns her a sharp, warning growl, barely restrained and very genuine. As far as he's concerned, this squirrel is his now, and the mere suggestion of giving it away feels like an attack. Howlkit clamps his little jaws tighter, his body pressing even lower to guard his meal. He isn't about to let anyone take what's his—not again.

When she asks his side of the story, Howlkit hesitates, his eyes glinting with a mix of anger and defiance. No one's bothered to ask him, and he's suspicious of her intentions. But the quiet invitation to share his perspective, without the usual judgment or dismissiveness, stirs something in him—a flicker of something almost like relief. For a moment, he debates staying silent, but the memory of what happened with Twilightkit fuels him, bubbling up with a need to be understood. "Twilightkit brought me a bird," he begins, his voice low, almost a growl, as if daring her to interrupt or dismiss him. "She gave it to me, like it was mine to have." Howlkit's claws dig into the ground as he remembers the scene, the way she had placed it in front of him, then darted forward with claws unsheathed to grab at it. "But then, she tried to take it back," he says, bitterness edging his words. "Like it was some game, and I was supposed to just let her."

He looks up at Houndshade, eyes hard, testing her reaction. "So, I bit her. She shouldn't have given it to me if she was just going to take it away." Howlkit's voice is steady, guarded but unashamed. He doesn't see himself as the villain here—Twilightkit broke the rules, not him. He won't be made to feel guilty for defending what he was given. "Everyone keeps acting like I'm the one who did something wrong," he mutters, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the defensive edge in his voice. "But they don't know what it's like… always feeling like someone's gonna take things from you. Like nothing's ever really yours." He glances down, paw pressing against the squirrel as if grounding himself before looking back up. Howlkit's gaze sharpens again as he meets Houndshade's eyes, his voice returning to a steady defiance. "I don't care what she says, or what anyone else thinks. I know what happened." He locks away the vulnerability that had crept into his tone for a moment, claws curling into the dirt.​