i know you don't see what i see - bobbie

[CROWSIGHT]

There is a lot he doesn't understand. The introduction to camp and others didn't go to well. He knows his mother was a little upset with him. To be honest he doesn't really understand why it was rude to say that Fireflypaw was not his mommy, or that saying his face is funny also counts as rude. It was true, so why was mommy mad? As for Brightpaw being nice, he actually didn't think she was mean. The issue really was that there were too many cats around and he just wanted to feel less trapped. Go away may not have been the best of words to use or convey what he wanted, but the little tom was still learning. He was going to misunderstood for awhile, and with his current communication skills... Let's just say cats would have to have some patience with him. His siblings Drowsykit and Lupinekit were off doing something around camp. Knowing his sister, she might as well be taking a nice nap somewhere while Lupinekit was trying to learn more about the cats who lived here.

Crowkit decided to stay by his mother's side. He wasn't making as much as a fuss today, yet it was evident that he had something on his mind. Guilt eats at him because he knows his mother tries. There are times where other queens or cats take care of him while his mother has her own free time, so he does try his best not to cause too much trouble. It's the least he can do. However, he does feel the need to apologize to her. Small inky paws prod her leg. When she does stop and give him the attention he asked for, Crowkit's hazel eyes look down to the ground. "I sowee mama."

He shuffles his paws and glances up at his mother. "I no mean make you mad. It too loud, smehlly, ans so much cats. 'M not think Bwitepaw bad. Says go away becah no more cats. Is too much." The explanation of his actions of that day become clear. It is just as Bobbie would expect. Her son was simply overwhelmed and didn't know how to convey that to the others. He held no real anomosity towards his clanmates. Brightpaw is answered for and he knows there was another cat. The name of the cat he can't quite remember correctly. The little tom looks down at his paws this time. "Frypaw not mommy. Only mommy make sure Lupee, Sye, and me not sick or ouchy. Is mehdi cat other mommy?"

// @bobbie​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

The thin fur underneath Bobbie's pale sage eyes is slightly darkened by the fatigue that bruises the skin underneath; the other queens have been pitching in, which she's certainly grateful for, but the gaping absence of a committed second parent is felt nonetheless. Her kits have no father to occasionally follow or climb on or talk to instead, nor another cat to occasionally watch them in the time between patrols; she is their one source of comfort, of emotional support. Bobbie loves her kits with her heart entire, wants to and tries to provide this support to them, but it stretches her thin at times. The nastily rising winds have been whooping between the trees close to every night, accompanied by the crashes of falling branches, often startling her or the kittens awake, and the interrupted sleep has reverbated throughout her.

Officially introducing her children to the rest of camp had let up the pressure of their constant presence slightly, but brought with it new challenges. Tiny heads were often bumped or little paws stubbed on a root, or an argument had with another kit, or simply the sensations of the new space overwhelmed the kits. Thankfully, Drowsykit was dozing in the nursery under another queen's watchful eye while Lupinekit greeted some new cats last she saw, and so only one tiny black-furred form sits at her side as she relaxes in the moment of relative leisure. Bobbie feels small paws prodding her lilac leg and glances down to see Crowkit shuffling his paws and gazing down at the ground. His kitten mew emerges in broken sentences and improperly formed syllables, but the queen's quickly become adept at deciphering the strange speech of kits, who sound like if miniature badgers tried to learn cat.

Her heart softens at his childish apology; perhaps her mew had been made harsh by stress during their first time out of the nursery, gentle as the chastisement had been intended to be. Bobbie listens as her son offers the explanation in simple sentences; she reminds herself that her kits are still young, that it's difficult for them to explain how they're feeling with emotions so large and a vocabulary too small. The queen leans down to reach the level of Crowkit amongst the swirling gales of late, mewing gently, "It's okay, Crowkit. I'm not ma-mad at you. I know the camp can be a little overwhelming your first time out there." Bobbie knows this all too well; her own first venture in had been a startling attack of sights and sounds and cats, and she was an adult. Her tone is soft and patient, but her words are well-formed; the lilac cat prefers not to baby-talk her children. Bobbie holds back a giggle at his last question; to laugh at his misinterpretation of Fireflypaw's name and designation of him as a second mommy would probably not be best in this situation.

It's a slight pang of a reminder, that her children will grow without a second parent; without a father to offer another perspective, soothe their hurt feelings, cuddle with them at night as a fully-formed family unit. His leaving had put paid to all that could have been, left a gaping hole in her heart and life that she hopes dearly her children won't feel. Bobbie continues, "When you feel upset like that, though, you can come tell me and take a br-break. It's not a nice thing to tell cats to go away, or that their faces are fuh-fuh-funny." She smiles at the small distressed face, hoping that the lesson is conveyed gently, adding last, "Fireflypaw. And he's not your mommy, but he'll treat you if you get hurt or sick. I can figure out if you're sick or hurt, but I c-can't fix it. Fireflypaw and Dawnglare can."
​

 

[CROWSIGHT]

Crowkit is beyond relieved to hear that his mother is not mad at him. Such a simple statement causes him to beam at his mother. It's not very often he smiles at her and it's not because he isn't happy being with her, it's because he shows his love by other methods. When it comes to others outside of their family, it wouldn't be farfetched to assume he couldn't smile. Although his smile does drop when she tells him that camp can be a little overwhelming. The biggest understatement of the century. To emphasize this, he shakes his head in disagreement of her word choice. It was not a little overwhelming. It was something beyond overwhelming.

He's never met his father. Doesn't even know his name. All he knows is that he has one and that he and his siblings look like him. They have to. After all, they don't look too much like their mother. All of them have darker pelts compared to hers and he's seen his mother's toes. He has more toes than her and he from what he's seen of Drowsykit and Lupinekit... They don't seem to have additional digits. What he has seen is some fathers visit their kits at what's deemed the nursery. No cat that could look like their father has come or said hi to him or his siblings. There are times he wonders what does their father look like and sort of cat he was. Although, every time he's imagined a father... It doesn't really do anything. At the end of the day he has no father. No amount of day dreaming about one or wishing is going to change that. For all he knows his father could be dead. The reason he doesn't bring it up with his mother is because she never brings him up.

Who knows? Maybe it was for the best his father wasn't around. Maybe their father was a bad cat and his moody nature would drive his father insane. What he is sure of is that his mother loves him. She's never mean and even now as she gently imparts her lesson, he understands that she is not disappointed in him. "Mmm'kay. But... mama why his face is like that? Did he come out with a funny face? Is bad thing, I get. But I says dat cuz it on da face." Bobbie needs not to worry as much. The lesson she had given him is not lost to the wind. He understands that telling people they look weird is not a good thing, but with kittens being curious, it's clear that he only said that as an observation. Something he wanted to know the reason for. Anyhow...

The little tom listens diligently to what his mother says. He is happy to hear that the big and funny looking cat is not his mommy. No offense to Frypaw, but his mommy was way more pretty. He doesn't understand how Fireflypaw can treat him, but he trusts what his mother says. He is saddened to hear that his mommy can't fix him, but she'll know if something's wrong with him. It doesn't make sense. To him, his mother is supposed to take care of him and fixing seems to be in the same category. She brings up a name of a cat he's never met before. Dawnglare isn't anyone important to him right now, just another cat that fixes things. It seems like her son isn't paying attention to her words when he mewls, "Fryerfrypaw?" His little face scrunches, the name of the medicine cat apprentice is too long and hard for him to say yet. He is woefully unsatisfied on his pronounciation of the name, knowing that what he said was awful. The sensation of his tongue against the roof of his mouth didn't feel right. His mother had said it clearly, yet he couldn't manage to do the same. "Fyer.. Flyer... Fligher," His little face is so scrunched up at that it appears as if he sucked a lemon.

Fustrated he lets out a huff and decides to give up on saying Fireflypaw's name. "How fix it?" To him, it seems weird that they would know how to fix him. It makes sense though, he's never seen a medicine cat work before. He's never even been in their den or seen the herbs they use among other things. Part of the reason why he wouldn't be allowed near the medicine cat den too much is before of sick cats. He is still rather young and susceptible to getting sick himself if he were to be exposed to sick cats. He tilts his head up, "How come mommy not fix it?"​

 

[DOEBLAZE]

The glowing smile that assumes its rare place on Crowkit's face soothes Bobbie's heart; perhaps she worried too much, but she'd been afraid of having given him the wrong idea during their introduction to camp. It slips off as quickly as it had come on, but the balm on her heart remains through the scrunched-up kittenish pout and furious head-shaking. Perhaps she'd worded that a touch poorly; she found camp a little overwhelming, but based on behavior alone he found it a lot overwhelming. It reminds Bobbie that while all three kittens look near-exactly like their father, none of them hold much of his personality—they all seem to draw from a deep well more similar to her own, a gentler and shyer one with their own little touches that seemed to come from neither parent. It's a gentle but somehow sweet reminder that these increasing moons and kitten problems are the forebears of developing adult personalities entirely independent from her.

Crowkit's explanation makes it out in tripped-over, bent kitten syllables and Bobbie again must suppress a giggle that's likely to be misinterpreted—kittens learning how to talk just sounded so funny. It was like if a Twoleg tried to talk to cats! She assumes he must be referencing the various scars that crisscross Fireflypaw's face; she herself has no idea how he'd acquired them, actually, but with a kit still quite young this was an important lesson to impart. Stars knew how impressionable kits could be at this age, Bobbie thinks absently, mewing, "Fireflypaw has scars on his face. Those are mar-marks a cat gets when they got hurt badly and healed." Sage eyes slide about; she has her own scars, and many cats had them in the more warlike environment of the forest. The queen holds out her own shoulder, bearing a grim reminder in dimpled pink bite-marks, adding, "See? I have some too. They're not a bad thing, it means a cat's been brave before."

Most cats, she thinks with a guilty pang of the heart; her own scars carry no brave stories of heroism or sacrifice. No, those are the aching memories of her own helplessness, her inability to fight back against the snapping jaws of the dog. Bobbie tries not to let this show on her face, to mind the delicate emotions of her son, as she listens to him trying to say the medicine apprentice's name. This time she can't restrain herself from a quiet, surprisingly girlish giggle; Fryerfrypaw just sounds so silly. "It's alright. You'll know how to suh-say it when you're older," Bobbie soothes; quietly she hopes Crowkit, with his face scrunched as though smelling something bad, hasn't somehow inherited her own kitten stutter. It had embarassed her a good bit when she was younger and its unfortunate return has evaded silencing.

He continues to question, reasonably she supposes, why Fireflypaw is the one who'll fix him up when hurt and not her. What seemed so simple to her after a few moons of Clan life was likely confusing for the mind of a kit; Bobbie smiles at Crowkit's inquisitive little face. "The medicine cats know a lot about herbs. Those are plants that will help you stop hu-hurting or fix it when you get sick or hurt. I don't know much about herbs, so I can't fix that stuff. But if you ever feel bad you can tell me and we'll go to them, o-okay?"
​