camp in the thick of it now ↺ intro, hunting

[MOORBLOSSOM]

A teeny nose juts out from the nursery, narrowly noticeable between the bristly shoots of the gorse wall. It twitches, picking up an array of scents from the outside world. Clanmates mostly, but a sharp, tasty smell is interspersed amongst the cats that passed by: fresh-kill.

It's eating time, Moorkit's second-favourite part of the day, and the girl watches enviously from the thicket's shade while grown-ups and big kids ate portion sizes much grander than what Swiftshrike had brought back. We're talking entire birds here.

It's not fair, she's a growing girl. And since her parents had the AUDACITY to wean her off milk, the least they could do is let her eat more! Just a bit! More than the bits and giblets thrown her way. She could have eaten double- no, triple what had been given to her tonight. As a matter of fact, Moorkit now sits in time-out for trying to demonstrate this to Swiftshrike; Cottonkit's helping is apparently considered "off-limits", whatever that means.

A grouchy pout slapped to her maw, the black-furred kitten issues a silent prayer to the stars above. She wishes for a sign, perhaps, or a prophecy, speaking of an end to this reign of tyranny. The girl would also accept a piece of prey, if StarClan were so merciful, to satisfy her remaining appetite. Oh, that would be so nice of them! She can just visualise a rabbit scurrying across the ground before her, or a bird falling right between her paws, or a-

Snake! There's a snake!

Her butt wiggles, and Moorkit launches herself from the gorse bush. Wee claws unsheathe mid-air, and her outstretched (and quite stubby) limbs grab ahold of a clanmate's tail.

Ah, her bad. She thought it was a snake, but she can still pretend, can't she? Playtime is her first-favourite part of the day, after all. "Got you!" she squeals, her voice brimming with whimsy.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit isn't necessarily giving. Perhaps she can be with her siblings and closer friends, but given the general scarcity of food (the moor runners just won't stop talking about it!) the youngest is more keen on keeping her belly full rather than watching her eldest sister eat several more helpings. It had been an unwelcome surprise when Moorkit attempted to nibble at her serving, and the grey she-kit would be an awful liar if she said that she didn't feel an ounce of smugness when Swiftshrike chided the other for it.

Regardless, she loves her sister, and she loves it more to watch the darker furred feline practice her own hunting techniques. She knows not of the other's endless pit of a stomach (though she often infers it,) instead letting out a bubble of quiet giggles when Moorkit makes her mark. Cottonkit trots closer, no different than a tumbleweed fluttering just above the ground, before practicing a sort-of crouch of her own. They'll be apprentices soon, and Cottonkit is not without the need to prove herself early!

"Let me know if y'need the help, Moorkit!" she mewls, wiggling her rump comedically. She's far too obviously off balance - a good gust of wind could knock her over, even.​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Being weaned is a harsh reality all five of Sootstar and Weaselclaw's kits are facing now. Swiftshrike had been firm thus far. There were no secret sips of sweet milk, none of the comfort latching and nursing once brought them all. Two moons is old enough to eat fresh-kill, everyone says, and Bluekit wants to be old enough desperately.

She shares Moorkit and Cottonkit's displeasure, and the new hollowness in her belly is, so far, an unwelcome part of being old enough, but she bears it with more dignity than her eldest sibling. She had stared, appalled, as Moorkit had tried to steal Cottonkit's bit of fresh-kill. Swiftshrike had put her in her place, but Bluekit is still amazed that she had tried.

Something she does not share with her sisters is their boundless creativity, their imagination that colors their world in rich and decadent colors. Where Moorkit and Cottonkit see a snake slithering through the grass, Bluekit sees only some poor warrior's tail. No matter how hard she tries, it never turns into a snake for her. Perhaps she is broken. Perhaps she is missing the part that makes you see those things.

Bluekit looks almost longingly at Moorkit and Cottonkit, and when she speaks, her voice is soft. "Maybe you should bite the... the snake," she offers, but it's halfhearted.

It's just a tail, after all.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[TIGERFROST]

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The air is cold, but it's fresh within his lungs. Tigerfrost had finally limped out of the medicine cat's den, and though he was battered and clawed and hobbling on his three uninjured legs, he still takes a moment to enjoy the wind and the sky. Quiet moments like these were pleasant, and a much needed break from the claustrophobic walls of Vulturemask's tunnel. He won't risk the fury of his clan-mates just yet, so Tigerfrost had not bothered trying to sneak his way onto a patrol. No, he sits idly in the camp, eyes half opened as he dozes with evident boredom. So many hungry bellies, and he was trapped, unable to prowl the moors.

Something sharp presses into his tail, and he whips the limb away as ears flatten and his head snaps around to peer upon the cause. Initially, he had thought some clumsy warrior had stepped on him, and had that been the case, Tigerfrost surely would have given them a few grumpy words. But no, it's a kitten, one of WindClan's newest. The tiny thing appeared to have taken an interest in hunting the chimera's tail. Ah well, what better way to build up their strength and reflex? His ears straighten out once more as he gives his tail a few flicks back and forth, something for little Moorkit to chase and leap after, if she liked. He does notice the two other young kits making their way over.

"You three must be bored." Tigerfrost finally speaks, a bit amused. "Have any of you learned how to play moss-ball yet?"​

 

[Addervenom]

Life doesn't discriminate

Adderkit lays upon his belly with the femur of a hare crossed between young paws. The growing boy can still feel the gentle hollow curve of hunger as he nibbles at the bone, removing remaining scraps of flesh and gristle. The weaning process annoyed him, no longer could he top off a good meal at the milk bar. Instead he had to be grateful for what he is given and he intends to remove every last shred. A huff escapes him as Swiftshrike chides Moorekit, gifting his eldest sister with a brief timeout for attempted thievery of Cotton's portion. Sometimes he believed Cottonkit to be too nice, if it were him he would have cuffed Moore over the ears.

Quietly he watches as a game begins, the assault on a warrior's tail. Burning amber eyes drift to Tigerfrost, gauging his reaction as he moves to stand, his picked clean bone forgotten. The chimera seems relatively unbothered as Adderkit makes his way over, standing amongst his sisters. Mossball? "No," He grumbles, tail lashing as it comes to rest at his side. "Does that help you become a strong warrior?" The boy questions pointedly, attention drifting from his siblings and the tail Moorekit clutched back up to the warrior's face. If it did not offer beneficial skills then he wanted no parts of it. It was his goal to make Sootstar and Weasleclaw proud of him, to be a strong warrior that brought honor to their family with starclan's grace. ​

Between the sinners and the saints​

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[SUNFLOWERMASK]

( ❁ ) Sunflowerkit watches the kits, settled nearby as they nibble on a lizard. The younger kits are attacking a warrior’s tail, it seems. A noble goal, if only they weren’t also pretending it was a snake -- that’s just silly. But Tigerfrost suggests moss ball instead, which is absolutely insulting. Moss ball is boring! These are the leader’s kits, they need a real challenge. When Adderkit asks his question, they shake their head. Moss ball won’t make you strong, it’s just silly kit-play. Though, they suppose, these are pretty young kits… They’ve barely even left the nursery. Still, though, they seem to want a challenge.

Well, Sunflowerkit does have one idea. They’re big enough now, they can handle a swarm of 2-moon old kittens. They pad over, raise their voice just slightly. “Hunt me instead?” They offer, a slight smile on their lips. They hum. “Bet you can’t,” they add playfully.

And with that they crouch down, ready to leap away as soon as a kit comes their way.​

 

[MOORBLOSSOM]

Much to her glee, the serpentine prey escapes her paws and tries to slither away! Moorkit catapults into the air when her squat paws push off the ground. There is not a glint of mercy in her beady eyes as they lock onto their quarry. Her front legs are extended as far as StarClan allows, but she narrowly misses her mark, and fails to stick the landing on top of that. A terminal combination of momentum and velocity sends the kitten tumbling over onto her belly moments later.

She cannot admit defeat, though! Not when the creature still lies within reach! Wee arms latch onto the brown-and-white adder, allowing her to deliver unto it a flurry of kicks before it ultimately escapes her grasp. "Awwww!" protests the she-kit, who unsteadily rises to all fours.

A couple of all-too familiar voices then emerge behind her. She swivels her head in their direction, and she bears a toothy grin when she sees who it is. "Cottonkit! Bluekit! Di'ja see me? I almost had it!" the girl boasts, who felt proud even in her failure. Neither Cottonkit or Bluekit have tried to hunt any snakes yet, so she must be a better hunter than them!

Movement is sensed behind her, and she turns to see that a set of stupendous legs now stood where the snake was. She has to crane her neck all the way up to see this grown-up's face. He looks a little silly, like he fell asleep in a puddle of white. "Moss-ball is awesome!" she replies excitedly. "But hunting is funner! Are you big enough to hunt twolegs? What do they taste like?"

Adderkit's voice manifests in the fray, but her attention is quickly seized by Sunflowerkit's invitation. "Yes we can!" challenges Moorkit, glowering at her peer. She then gives parting glances to her siblings. "C'mon, let's get 'em!"

And with that, her little limbs break into a sprint.​

 

[TIGERFROST]

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His eyes shift to Adderkit, and whiskers twitch with amusement. This one was a serious looking one, wasn't he? And with a striped pattern that reminded the chimera so much of Weaselclaw. Perhaps he'd take after the lead warrior's personality as well.

"Of course it does." Tigerfrost answers matter-of-factly, and indeed, it is true. For young kits, at least. "Moss-ball hones your reflex, your agility, and your cunning. All skills that you will need once you are older." He points out. The sharp sensation in his tail intensifies as it seems Moorkit had finally captured her serpentine prey, batting at the furry limb. Luckily for the dusty hued tom, kit-claws were far too small to cause significant damage.

"I think you wounded the snake enough to kill it." Tigerfrost points out to Moorkit, taking the opportunity to exaggerate a bit as his tail stills. As for the question about two-legs... he snorts, an amused sort of sound. "You can't hunt twolegs. They're big enough to touch the sky." The chimera points out, once more exaggerating a little to better explain the height of such a creature to an imaginative kitten's mind.

Sunflowerkit grabs the youths attention next as they challenge the group of young cats. Tigerfrost decides to observe curiously. After all, what else does he have to do? He's unable to patrol with his injuries, and the camp could grow to be so very dull when one was trapped there all day.​

 

[cottonsprig]

Though she knows not Bluekit's true thoughts, Cottonkit hears her tone and gives her sister a furrowed brow and a pout. The other has always been so... literal - a concept she knows the surface of, really. She's heard the warriors use it before and it feels right. Though Cottonkit supposes she could also call Bluekit fanatical, for she knows just as much of what that word means as she does literal. Regardless, Bluekit isn't having as much fun as she and Moorkit are, and it shows. Her mouth opens to try and convince the other of the game when the subject matter shifts entirely.

Tigerfrost claims that they must be bored and tries to suggest a game for them to play - one that Adderkit (when did he arrive? Cottonkit prides herself on her observant nature, and she hates that it's slipped even if only for a moment,) takes some interest in. Sunflowerkit is next - they're of few words, yes, but they offer Moorkit a more capable opponent. Perhaps even one that Bluekit can be convinced of. Cottonkit shifts out of her hunting pose finally, watching as her eldest sister takes the bait and attempts to garner the interest of the other three around. Adderkit will surely follow suit. Bluekit, she's not sure of. Regardless, the chatter about twolegs and their grandness interests her instead.

"If there are enough of us - surely then, we could catch a twoleg. They don't seem too scary," Cottonkit continues the conversation purely for her own amusement, hoping for the warrior to entertain her with ruthless tales of the furless beasts.​

 

[BURNETPAW]

Burnetkit spotted the moor-runners streak across the gaping plains from afar, like little imitations of illusions that wobbled along the lines of the horizon, like the shadows wresting with the moonlight in a dance of attrition. To her, the moors seemed so far away from her nest in the nursery, as if they were but the shapes capering in the reflection of rain-wrought puddles. Though, she knew that a life above the warmth of the damp tunnels was not her destiny, or at least she hoped so. There was a whole realm to hunt for and grab within the great beast of the darkness, within the comforts of paths carved out by forefathers' efforts, as though reading a tattered tome left behind by her ancestors. Even as others had traversed it all before, there was always a new adventure to seek out. Surely, there would be something great waiting for her within the shadows instead of the brilliance.

Burnet trotted up to the crowd with a bouncing gait, kitten proportions making her strut look more like a stumble, stopping just as she saw Moorkit lunge after Sunflowerkit. Golden eyes brimmed with honeyed excitement, swimming in owlish stare, as the umbra bathed in the surface of the moon's pool. The prospect of hunting down a creature of vaster proportions was a scary yet tantalizing thought. "Well, what could a Twoleg even do? Maybe they'd force you to be a kittypet!" Maybe that was what she and the other kids should do next. They could have a feast of Twoleg, and the clan would never go hungry again!
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