private I no longer dream ☾ Brackenpaw

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Frghtkit's pelt was sticky.

One doesn't consider how awful of a feeling that is until one is stuck with it. Frightkit hasn't found a reason to leave the nursery yet, with cats yammering about outside and Periwinklebreeze distracted with Vulturekit's disappearance, Fry had chosen to curl herself tight in the shadows. Now, attempting to rise to her feet, she found half of her pelt stiffer than the rest. It dragged on her skin when she moved against the adhesive. Red had long since given way to black, stuck fast to her thick coat along her flank and neck - it was a morbid sight for someone completely unscathed. Unlike Witherkit. Unlike Vulturekit. Unlike m- she lets the thought end there.
Wincing when she moves a paw and incurs a flash of pain from shifting a mat tangled tight enough to pull skin, she considers the urgency in getting herself cleaned up. Tired, she glances around the dark den, made somber by the parents hugging their kits or the kits hugging each other - made worse by those that weren't here. Frightkit doesn't need to glance over herself to know it's not going to be easy to clean herself off on her own, especially when she's not keen on licking off her ma- she doesn't let that thought finish, either. Instead, she shuffles quietly for the nursery entrance, peeking outside to see if everyone's stopped with the babbling and orders and screaming and crying....a little, but not much. She's wary to push further outside, not in the mood to be rushed into Cottonpaw and Wolfsong's den just like Witherkit had been, She scans the clearing instead for someone else to help her, but besides Periwinklebreeze who's busy wailing about his missing kid, there's not really anyone who's very good at grooming her pelt.

"Mamma? " her call sounds distant in her ears, like meowing a 'good-morning' to someone when you're still half-aslee-
Oh.
Frightkit stands at the mouth of the nursery, eyes dull as she struggles to process.
That's a funny mistake she just made, considering her ma is- she banishes the thought.
Who else is going to help her groom if her ma- she banishes the thought.
No one groomed her better tha- banishes the thought.
Mamma had the softest - banishes the thought.
Without - banishes the thought.
Fry mi - banishes the thought.

Frightkit stares out into the clearing. The chaos of it all, the stickiness in her pelt, all suddenly feel so far away. She wants to go back to sleeping in the shadows until - she banishes the thought.
Dizzy, she can't remember why she even left her spot in the first place. Turning on her paws, she winces as a mat in her fur stings in her skin. She banishes the thought.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/7/24

• // I'm so sorry this got so depressing so fast! @Brackenpaw <3
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

​

 

[Brackenpaw]

There was no point in Brackenpaw trying to guard an exit, not when there were countless duskclanners aiming to leave. Giving up on her post was a tough thing to do but she reluctantly found a lack of care in it, not with Periwinklebreeze raising the alarm about the disappearance of Vulturekit. In this moment she just needed to know that it was only him missing, as horrible as that sounded. They couldn’t chase after whoever took him but they could focus on making sure their ex-den-mates were all safe, just because they were all counted for doesn’t mean that they were safe.

What if they were injured? Her thoughts jump to Frightkit, the kit who threw tantrums because she couldn’t get her way, the kit who seemed to hate them but still showed up to their nest because she couldn’t sleep. The kit that they willingly accepted into their nest too, the kit that they sought out stories from. With the metaphorical dust setting on the aftermath of this night she decided that they weren’t going to do anything other than make sure that their friend was okay.

The sound of her calling out to her mother causes Brackenpaw’s stomach to drop, the fact that she didn’t hear the young girl's mother call back out to her caused the calico to find a second wind in her steps. Recovering a speed that they thought was lost in the shell shock state of witnessing all of this chaos. The tunneler apprentice uses their light paws to weave through different clan-mates, not bothering to give pleasantries or excuses, not right now. There was at first relief when she found Frightkit- that relief is immediately washed away with dread like a tidal wave. The sight that greets the calico causes her to still her movements and for a moment all she can do is stare. Her friends usual silver and charcoal fur is mixed with a dark red substance, was that blood? Whose blood was that?

Normally narrowed eyes stare wide at the kit, was this how it felt when one was stuck on the Thunderpath when the blinding lights of a monster approached? There was never any impact in this moment unlike with being struck by a metaphorical monster, no bones broken and no blood spilled- at least not Brackenpaw’s blood. With a sharp inhale they remember where they are, still hearing the howling and chattering of their clan-mates dealing with the aftermath, was no one going to help Frightkit?

They were here, they could help. Regaining their senses they resumed their walk towards the kit in the clearing. “Hey Frightkit” is all they can manage to say at first, there’s uncertainty in their tone, should they be warm? Stern? This isn’t something they should have to be considering- no that’s too selfish, this isn’t something that Frightkit should have ever been confronted with. They go to brush against her but stop- remembering the blood on her pelt, she might not even want to be touched right now.

“Do you want some help with cleaning?” They wince at their own words, always one to cut to the chase even at moments like this. This is stupid why did she think she could help anyone? Still, they press on. “I promise I’m pretty good at it, it looks like the queens are busy right now” and since her mother hadn’t run immediately to her kits call they could only presume that she was either injured or dead. They hoped that she was only injured, if WindClan hadn’t somehow forsakened StarClan’s good will they prayed that she was only in the medicine den.

---

‎‎ ‎┌── Im just a dog ⸙ with no bite ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  ooc.
  
•  
• BIOGRAPHY
  ✩ they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 8 moons (ages on the 22nd)
  ⭃ a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
  ⭃ Speech, thoughts, attacking
  ⭃ NPC x NPC, mentored by Bluefrost
  ⭃ easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ⭃ All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
  

​

 

[Frightpaw]

*+:｡.｡ Frightkit feels her ears twitch into position more so than she hears her name. She almost walks right past them, laser-focused on continuing as close to normalcy as the universe will allow. One step, two steps, follow the familiar track back to bed, the same steps you've taken a million times, the same conclusion waiting for her once she reaches the nursery entrance.
She'll be waiting for her there, surely.
Instead, she feels a presence brush ever so lightly against her fur - more like a faint breeze that ruffles only the tip of her hair - but it's enough to force her to look up and away. No words escape her, but she clocks in that Brakenpaw is here. Her mouth is moving, she's speaking to Frightkit, but her attention drifts away towards the setting sun behind her. It illuminates Brackenpaw's tortoiseshell fur into an inferno, soon to be swallowed whole by the night similar to the black splotches that threaten to overtake Brackenpaw's fire. The night is approaching. "Can I sleep in your nest again? " she hears herself ask. Her brow immediately wrinkles. No...no, she can't do that, her paws are meant to follow the familiar track back to her nest - a nest she's already sharing with...with her family...with...

She blinks hard, struggling to focus. "You want to... " she stumbles through her mind's eye, tracing backward the barely-registered memory of Brackenpaw talking. Clean, they had offered. Frightkit is reminded, once more, of the painful pull of her sticky pelt. Suddenly tired, the girl sits heavily, refusing to continue her walk and almost grateful for the excuse not to.
"Yes please " she mumbles, her voice small. Frightkit had always loved being groomed. By - and by Periwinklebreeze. Being groomed by Brackenpaw would be known - although they hadn't offered to groom, they'd offered to clean...clean the....Frightkit feels her body trembling, against all the lessons she'd been taught to hold still if she wanted a good session. Hopefully, Brackenpaw wouldn't rescind their offer. Frightkit longed for a taste of normalcy.

*+:｡.｡ Updated 6/7/24

• //no this isn't a million years late I have no idea what you're talking about xAx
  
• 
  " Speech "
  
  
  GENERAL:
  ☾ Frightkit
  ☾ DFAB— She/Her — Unsure
  ☾ 6 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
  ☾ Windclan Kit
  ☾ Sister to Deathkit, Witherkit, Grasskit, Whitekit and Midnightkit
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ☾Physically very easy | mentally very easy
  ☾ Attack in bold #1b1e21
  injuries: None

​

 

[Brackenpaw]

The question brings Brackenpaw pause, could she sleep in their nest again? To be honest they didn’t see themself sleeping tonight until exhaustion staked its claim and dragged her into the realm of the sleeping. Even then, that would probably teeter dangerously close to the daylight hours. When looking at the kit before them, covered in blood that she selfishly hoped wasn’t Frightkit’s own, she couldn’t even think of another answer. “Of course, you’re always welcome to” it’s sincere, why wouldn’t it be? They notice the brow wrinkle yet not yet know the reason as to why that would be occurring. “You don’t have to ask in future, just be fine with me getting a scare out of seeing you there suddenly” that wasn’t too forward was it? Not too assuming that her friend wanted to keep finding solace from the nursery there. It would be a temporary thing, she was meant to be an apprentice soon right? A lighter thought amongst the chaos.

The calico isn’t too sure what she should say when Frightkit blinks then sits suddenly. Heavy and blunt with her movements, there’s a moment where even though her eyes were open they assumed that she had fainted. An irrational thought is to flag down Cottonpaw or Wolfsong, their rationality kicks in though and she can realise that this is probably just exhaustion from the events surrounding them. “Okay, I can do that” they sit beside her, grooming- or cleaning rather, wasn’t unknown to them. Obviously she has her own fur to upkeep, the offer to do so for others was few and far between but this wasn't unknown to her.

There’s the slightest pause, hesitance over if what they were doing was the right thing right now. She presses on though, rasping tongue over silver tabby fur. Trying to wash away the crimson from it the best they can, making sure her face was hidden so Frightkit couldn’t see her cringe at this taste. They’re no stranger to the copper taste of blood, it was in the prey they kill, the food they eat. This was different though, knowing that this blood came from somewhere. A cat’s blood on her tongue, mingling with her senses and Frightkit’s scent. They knew that going forward any metallic hint of blood in future in the air was going to remind her of this moment.

What they felt wasn’t important though. Not when the trembling body of Frightkit was against them, oddly enough it was enough to ground her into the now. She thought about offering a distraction, more so than what they were doing now. “Did Rootstep- or anyone else tell you anymore stories lately?” They ask as they pause her motions, leaning back to give Frightkit a once over. Making sure that she was still with them. She often still thought about that story that the tabby had told, of kits made of smoke and their grizzly fates. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to bring up but if she was up to talking then a story could probably help both of them.

“Was that story real, by the way?” She finds herself asking before going back to the self imposed task of cleaning her pelt. The tang of copper had started to become numb to their senses now, it was all they could smell and taste right now so when in the middle of that sensory storm it wasn’t so bad. For a moment she could even pretend it was normal.

---

‎‎ ‎┌── Im just a dog ⸙ with no bite ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• 
  ooc. Spins you around don't even worry I'm also late with this reply <33
  
•  
• Brackenpaw
  ✩ they/she, tunneler apprentice of Windclan, 9 moons (ages on the 22nd)
  ⭃ a lithe and fragile looking calico that looks like they still need to grow into her ears
  ⭃ Speech, thoughts, attacking
  ⭃ NPC x NPC, mentored by Bluefrost
  ⭃ easy to befriend other kits, gradually harder to befriend every rank after that
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Juice ↛ @/ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  ⭃ All opinions are IC!! Bracken is a little hater
  

​