private I know that time is elastic 》Storytime

[KITEWAIL]

Unless Coyotecrown demands them to hunt, Kitewail does not let the kits out of their sight. When they must tear themself from their kits panic immediately fills them, it's the same panic that overcomes them at night when they come to terms that leaving them with Florabreeze means that they'll never see them again. They let their kits feel independent but the black tabby is always watching. Just as they would do with Florabreeze, Kitewail tries to memorize all her kits' mannerisms and appearances; no amount of observing them will ever satisfy the fervid desire be there for the rest of their life. It will have to be enough though to cling onto fading memories. Memories will be the only thing to suggest they ever had kits in the first place. At the very least they have a reminders of Florabreeze— the family they planned to raise together, her torn collar. They do not plan on returning to Duskclan for long after they leave their kits behind and it will only be long enough to retrieve Florabreeze's collar.

The mushroom collar... it protected their beloved from their slashing claws. Kitewail shows them the collar often and keeps it tucked in the brittle nest they all share so any of the kits can have access to an artifact from their mother. They offer no explanation to why it is torn apart, and the faded droplets of blood are ignored as well; for all the kittens know it is their Da's own blood, not Florabreeze's.

Kitewail stares at the collar now through partially lidded eyes. The sun begins to set and their kits begin to settle beneath cover of gorse bushes Kitewail has laid claim to. It has been one of their solemn days, where they speak few words to the kits and must summon dwindling energy to walk into the camp's clearing with their kits so they can enjoy the weak sunlight. The tabby's ears fold back and an inky forepaw reaches over to the collar and hooks it closer. They slide their paw over the item and finally raise their head to check all the kits have begun to settle down. A slight twitch of their lip up can be seen when Kitewail is immediately comforted by just the sight of them. "My sweets... I'll tell you all a story before you... must sleep." Kitewail's tail strokes the head of Wiltingkit before curling around the lilac kit's back. Most times their stories are lies or myths, inspired by the way they would hear Florabreeze benignly lie. It did the kits no harm to fill their ears with cheery tales of great tales. However tonight they would like to tell a real story.

A paw outstretches to scoop Hollowkit and Starlitkit closer, with an encouraging nod Kitewail beckons Rookkit and Larkspurkit too. "I have told you all... plenty of times that Duskclan is not a... real clan. Where your mother lives is Skyclan... and that is a real, powerful clan—" They wince and pause for a few heartbeats. Why couldn't they see that then? "Would you all... like to hear about the place where you will... someday live?" Kitewail paw still rests on the torn collar, almost like if they let go of it they will slip back into the somberness which has plagued them all day.

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shame is sharp, and my skin gives so easy

• my children!! @HOLLOWKIT. @Rookkit @larkspurkit @starlitkit @wiltingkit
• KITE ; KITESTORM ; KITEWAIL 》 a small statured black tabby with compact muscles but the very first thing one would notice are the welted scars beneath their eyes. kitewail is perceptive & clever. may appear unfriendly due to neutral expressions but is very sociable, or rather once was; in their current situation kitewail does not speak to anyone unless they approach another first. they have a soft, monotonous voice with a rasp to it. their gentle side is only reserved for their unborn kits, they do not care much for any duskclanner.
  ✧ 43, ages every 21st ✧ they/them ✧ mate to Florabreeze
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed, all opinions IC

  
  

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[HOLLOWKIT.]

WHERE DID MY PARENTS GO?​

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the kit is laying rather comfortably near its littermates. why wouldn't it be when it feels pretty safe here? little to prove to anyone within this circle, it does not feel the pressures of society when just sitting in this circle and it finds itself relaxing. it doesn't even squint, simply okay with the blurry globs in its far away vision. when this close, it can see its family good enough. it's ears swivel before perking right up when it's da says that they want to tell it, and it's siblings, a story of where they'd be living one day. something pangs within it's stomach. of course it's curious but... it doesn't want to leave it's dad. sniffling as it thinks, is simply snuggles closer and closes its eyes.

"yes, i wanna hear. im a good listener."

they at least have that going for them. a yawn leaves them and they use their paw to push on their own muzzle as if ashamed that they're tired. they want to listen to the story. they would, even if they had to pinch themself with their claws to keep them awake during it. they need to know what will happen when they leave here... if this is what must be.
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[larkspurpaw]

Kitewail was motionless for much of the day, the only indication of life being the monotonous rise and fall of their flank as they laid still. A large part of Larkspurkit wishes his Da would go elsewhere to have these episodes, somewhere private where his more sensitive siblings could not see them so vulnerable. For the most part, Kitewail is already absent and a ghostly figure to the kits on days like this. Their Da will groom them, feed them, then encourage them to go to sleep but it is done with a heaviness to their motions which is not there otherwise; they go through the motions until the veil lifts and they are able to be themself again.

Larkspurkit grimaces as he struggles to groom a mat on his spine. His struggle pauses when he hears the stirring of grasses from where Kitewail has been frozen, his feathery ears twitch wildly in the most excitement he will demonstrate outwardly. His crooked face lifts to fix Rookkit with a placid frown before the chimera tom swivels his head toward Da.

They have heard their Da speak fondly of Skyclan but mostly of their mother who was barred from coming with them to Duskclan. Sometimes such discussions makes Kitewail quiet, they stutter over details or evade his questions about why the elusive Florabreeze is not with them. Why wouldn't their mother want to meet them? There are no suitable answers to his prodding. You'll be there soon... You will meet her soon.... soon, soon, soon. He is tired of not knowing these things, he can't even say he is scared to leave Duskclan, only that he is annoyed he has to go somewhere with so many mysteries. Kitewail will answer them once they reunite with Florabreeze, he assumes.

Da beckons them all forward and at once Larkspurkit plods forward to fall onto his flank beside Hollowkit. His tail waves in excitement even if his features look like he would rather be anywhere else. He looks quizzically at the collar Kitewail grasps at, but such a thing is normal for his Da to do so he ignores it and focuses his attention upon Kitewail's branded face. His face scrunches in momentary confusion: haven't they been told enough about the forest? Larkspurkit only nods stiffly and waits to hear the story.

accordion

Larkspurkit is a black smoke/silver tabby chimera wip wip wip

Kitewail x Florabreeze / littermate to Rookkit, Starlitkit, Wiltingkit, Hollowkit / half-sibling to Magnoliashine
mentored by who / mentoring who
2 moons old as of 02/15/2025

penned by ken_unot

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[starlitpaw]

Starlitkit stares into the nothing. The realm beyond them flickers to death, the sun tearing bleeding ribbons into the sky befors it dims entirely. Stars light it then - a promise of what comes of the end. The child watches each faint light with an assured curiosity, as if a sign will be sent downwards to them. They are named for silverpelt in a way, and thus the ancestors that inhabit the swaths of night must honor them, right? They expect to be revered, adored, by the dead - but nothing. Instead they are toted along by more whimsical and strict siblings, by an aunt who oft decides their parent is of better use in the wastelands than in the clutter of their camp. One day. They know that the stars will descend and cradle them. One day.

Kitewail's voice echoes in a hollow softness, a warmth to behold upon their chidlren. Their normal static distance is what the child is used to, even after moments of well taught grooming and lessons of the world. They love their parent - even when Kitewail is despondent and distant. This is all they've known of them. Anything serving a modicum of difference is unnerving and uncomfortable. Kitewail hooks a paw to them and beckons them closer, and Starlitkit obeys like a hound lured by a treat. But that doesn't lessen the dimmed spark in their green eyes. That doesn't quiet the new roar that sounds behind their maw.

"SkyClan..." they echo, and their gaze falls to the discarded collar not far from them. A name said once or twice, with now a story to be told about it. They say nothing more, simply patient in waiting for Kitewail to speak again.
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