camp IT’S A LONG WAY DOWN [first catch]

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 Two or three moons old. That’s how old Cicadaflight was when he caught his very first minnow. And Iciclefang had been the one to teach him to be a warrior—how come she can’t teach Crabkit how to fish? She’s not a bad teacher or anything. Maybe he’s just a… a bad son. Maybe that’s why he only has one mom, while some of the other kits have two moms, or one mom and one dad, or just more than one parent. Or maybe… maybe it isn’t his fault at all. Maybe he’s a really good fisher, and it’s just that the fish are… are… fuckers. Yeah, they’re just stupid, dumb fish who don’t want him to succeed. At least, the little tomkit thinks so.

As he stares down at the water, a lump forms in his throat. The last time he’d tried to catch a fish, he’d found something that stained the river red with blood. Hooked with silver twoleg claws and already dead before Crabkit and Eveningkit had gotten hold of it, the fish hadn’t been a good catch at all. It had been discarded by Willowroot immediately. The thought frustrates him—stupid twolegs, ruining his first catch. They ruin everything, just like those stupid rogues did. Just like… just like everything outside of RiverClan ruins things. ShadowClan and WindClan ruined the gathering, and ThunderClan is nasty, and SkyClan is weird. And twolegs kill fish and cats and all kinds of other things.

Mossy green eyes brighten as he spots a fish under the water’s surface; no blood trails behind it, and it’s right there. He could just… reach out and catch it. So with a quick movement and a carefully scooped paw, Crabkit strikes. He smacks the fish right in its side, and he sinks his claws into it to hold it still until he’s able to pick it up. And then, he turns around and faces the rest of the camp. "Mmmph-!" He attempts to call for his mother, but the minnow wiggles, and he’s forced to bite down a bit harder to keep it still. The familiar taste of blood coats his tongue, though this time it’s a bit fresher than most of the prey he eats. He hopes Iciclefang will look at him soon—he doesn’t want to hurt the fish!

˚𓆛˚｡ the river will take me

• ooc: —
• 
  CRABKIT ❯❯ he/him, kit of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragkit & pinekit
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[FERNGILL]

Ten moons old. That was how old Ferngill had been when he'd caught his first fish- it had been a long time coming, but for so long he'd bore paws much too big for him on a twiggy, runtish body. Since then he'd filled out, pelt growing from ember to inferno, kitten-blue deepening to green, a small form becoming correctly-proportioned and silken-furred, but even still... he was living proof you could struggle and still be good.

Crabkit was kin, so there were bound to be shared traits between them- but he hoped his fishing skills would be inherited from Mudpelt and Iciclefang, not him and... well, he didn't imagine Stormywing was very naturally talented at that, either.

(Where had his own uselessness come from?)

A single eye of green was trained diligently upon his nephew- whenever he wasn't hunting, or spending time with Sablemist, his eye would find them easily, feeling easily the joy that their existence ignited within him. That joy tripled then, upon seeing Crabkit smiling through the slippery scales of a freshly-caught fish; he was running over before he could think about it. "ICICLEFANG!" Overjoyed toned carried her name in the call Crabkit hadn't managed himself- and Ferngill grinned like he'd never before. His entire face ached near immediately.

"Wow, Crabkit! Wow! Well done, buddy!" The fact that Crabkit wasn't killing it flew as high over Ferngill's head as a gull. ​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[iciclefang]

How old had Iciclefang been when she'd caught her first fish? Three moons or four, she thinks, similar to Cicadaflight. She had missed her apprentice's first catch, but she will not miss her son's—the sun gilds two fiery pelts at the water's edge, one small figure ribboned with cream fighting something in his jaws. Ferngill's rapturous expression brings a smile to the queen's face. "Crabkit? Is everything alright?"

She approaches swiftly, wondering if he's caught more Twoleg trash that hasn't been cleaned out yet, until she stops dead in her tracks. Crabkit has a minnow. He'd caught a minnow by himself! "Crabkit, you did it! You caught your first fish!" Her astonishment is the silver lining on the burning banner of her pride. She comes to sit beside her son, a purr beginning to rattle rustily in her throat and chest. "Make sure you kill it so we can give it to one of the younger kits!" Her blue eyes gleam now, watchfully.

Would he refuse?

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 24 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[HOUNDSTRIDE.]

Thinking back on it, he'd never really figured out when he caught his first fish. What seemed so memorable to kits faded to monotony in the warrior's long past. With everything he did, pulling fish from the river just felt mundane. But there's somethin' about seeing it– joy on another's face. Pride. He's not a familiar face around the nursery but Hound enjoys the the shallow pools just near it. They're a peaceful place to soothe his paws after a patrol so that's where he lounges. Paw pads dip into crystalline water and lift back up to let droplets ripple. Steady and gentle enough not to scare the fish away, it'd seem. Crabkit is solidly ignored right until his own claws lash out. The warrior jolts. Can't help it much. His paw smacks down harder and the remainder of the little fish flood away, tensing as if to stand and rush to whatever aid he may offer before he realizes there's no need for it here.

Crabkit caught something. It wiggles in his maw; Houndstride finds a lazy smile of admiration crossing his face. "Well done!" he chuckles with the others. The kit's no kin of his and so he's not ecstatic, but it's warm nonetheless. "That'll make a good meal to fill a denmate's belly." It doesn't cross his mind that the kit'd want to spare the thing.

𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐓: 𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊.  ╱ ( 𝑬𝑿𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑨𝑴𝑳𝑬𝑻 ) 〚 03.11.2024 〛 𓆟༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆｡˚ ༝ • .𓆝

• OOC. —
• 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄. HE - HIM - HIS. PRODIGAL WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. ————— mauled by a fox moons ago and has the scars to prove it. though his wounds are healed, nothing can rid him of that pain.  ╱ PENNED BY REVELATIONS
  
  a lean chocolate tabby with lime green eyes. the scars that had once been limited to the bridge of his nose now shatter and expand across that entire side of his face, up to a ripped ear and down to his shoulder and front right leg. it is somewhat difficult for him to put his weight on that paw at odd angles, and he gets grumpy after a long while of walking, but it does not inhibit him terribly.

• "speech"

​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

As per usual, he's a late arrival to the impromptu gathering, still shaking river - water off his pelt as he pads into camp. The faintest scent of fish - blood, fresh and coppery, instantly draws his attention—the tall tom pushes through nodding ferns that speckle him with honey - thick droplets of greenleaf dew, trailing the smell through the winding paw - worn pathways of the camp that, blessedly, segment it into more private bends of the river. He can't imagine what it would be like to live in a different camp . . . can't imagine the world without the constant sound of it, the smell of it, the sight of it. A world where he doesn't wake greeted by soft whispers of the current, breathing an intoxicating siren's song, the perfume of fish and fresh water rising from its silvered ripples? Well, that would no world at all.

Rounding the corner near the nursery, the blood - scent thickens from a wisp to a roar, making black hackles raise until spires of rumpled curls are ruffled up on broad shoulders . . . a cropped ruff quick to settle once he's appraised the scene. He's greeted by the sight of little Crabkit with the wriggling silver flash of a minnow clenched between his jaws . . . recalling their conversation when he'd towed a fattened trout into the nursery for Iciclefang and her brood, he can't help but feel some weird, mutated emotion that might be . . . pride? There's a dull warmth lodged in his chest, so unlike the destructive flames that usually lick at the space between his ribs, and he pads closer, joining rank with the small clump of warriors gathered around to marvel at the catch.

" Nice catch, " he remarks, tufted ears twitching as he stands by Ferngill, easily dwarfing the compact ginger tom. Heavy muscle ripples in his back as he leans down to peer at the minnow . . . it's a sizeable one, not a bad piece of prey for a kit Crabkit's age. A lot of cats, thankfully excluding himself ( his parents would have never tolerated such a delay ), didn't make their first catches until well into their apprenticeship . . . and the little ginger tom's already handily snared one while he's yet to bear the coveted suffix.

" He takes after you, evidently, " he remarks with a light nudge at Iciclefang from a crooked black bottlebrush. Turning a bicolor gaze back to the kit, he's in unconscious imitation of Houndstride in his thinking; he's only now realizing it's still alive rather than in its death throes, and he doesn't even entertain the notion that Crabkit might want to keep it that way. For a cat who'd been given a gutting demonstration before he was a paw and started killing minnows no more than a moon weaned from his father's flank, death is just an aspect of the world. If you catch something you kill it, whether that something is a minnow or a rogue . . . tortoiseshell fur and muffled gasps flash behind his eyelid. Abruptly, he clears his throat and agrees, " Yeah. Could make a fine meal for one of Robinheart's, if they've taken to prey yet. "

OOC : —

☆

​

 

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 The first cat to come striding over to see his accomplishment isn’t his mother, but instead his uncle. Ferngill’s eye is bright and his smile is wide—he shouts out Iciclefang’s name, and surely the queen can hear him. The ginger lead warrior moves on quickly to congratulating him, and Crabkit’s grin only grows wider to match his uncle’s. His tail flickers happily to and fro, excitement searing through every inch of his body. His mother is quick to appear, with an exclamation of concern that shifts to pride after a moment. Crabkit, you did it! It’s the best thing he’s ever heard!

"Yeah-!" He manages to exclaim with pride around the minnow in his mouth. The corners of his eyes, bright with glee and self-satisfaction, crinkle as he looks up at his mother. He’s… he’s done it! And there’s a smile on Iciclefang’s face, because she’s proud of him for catching a fish! Houndstride and Cicadaflight also congratulate him on his catch, but the only cat whose compliments matter is the tortoiseshell queen. He does preen just a little bit when he hears Cicadaflight say that he takes after his mama. But then…

Iciclefang tells him to kill it, and Crabkit freezes in place. Without thinking, he drops the minnow to the ground where it flops about for a moment before he presses a ginger paw down onto its side. Any pride that he felt before, any happiness, is hollowed out. Only a cold, harsh fear is left behind. "Huh? I don’t really have to—to kill it… right?" He doesn’t want to kill it. Green eyes go wide and worried, uncertain. The fish has to feed RiverClan, so it has to… to die. But the kit flexes his jaw, and he can’t imagine killing the minnow like Pinekit killed that injured bird. He can’t… he can’t do it. Tears begin to well up in his eyes, and he whispers to his mother, "Can… can you just do it?"

˚𓆛˚｡ the river will take me

• ooc: —
• 
  CRABKIT ❯❯ he/him, kit of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragkit & pinekit
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[iciclefang]

Oh, here we go. Crabkit drops the minnow and presses a ginger paw to its quivering side. "I don't really have to kill it... right?" Iciclefang's expression drains of its joy momentarily, leaving only a weariness. "Crabkit," she mews, "the fish is going to die out of the water anyway. You are giving it the gift of mercy. If you take a fish out of the water, you are already killing it, but slowly." She shakes her head, her tail flicking out to stop any good-doers who wants to take Crabkit's kill from him.

"You must do it yourself. I want to see you do it now." Her blue eyes are intense, focused; she narrows them at her son, all limbs and damp sunkissed fur, and waits for him to make his decision.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 24 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​

 

[Pinepaw ⭒]

-ˋˏ ༻ ❆༺ ˎˊ- Most of the time, Pinekit caught herself feeling sad for Crabkit. Her brother was the type to let his emotions get the best of him, and he wasn’t all that good at play-fighting, not like her and Cragkit. Still, the ginger tom-kit was her brother, so of course Pinekit would always support him, even if he was a step behind her; most were, anyhow.
Iciclefang! Her uncles outcry erupts from nearby the rivers bank, Pinekit almost doesn’t notice that the extra bundle of her at his flank is her littermate.
On her mothers tail, the kitten comes running, stopping just short of what all the clamor was about.
Crabkit caught a whole fish, by himself.
There’s a pang of something ugly in Pinekits chest, burning searing emerald as the praise from clanmates swell in the air around them, even drawing seasoned warriors like Houndstride near- including her mothers own beaming voice. It takes noticeable effort not to let her ears flatten as Cicadaflight joyfully makes his remark to Iciclefang. He takes after you.
Pinekit knows she should be celebrating this moment with her brother, Cragkit would, but… she cannot bring herself to move from where the girl is still planted. There is a spark in honeyed hues when her mother reminds Crabkit to kill his catch, her muzzle cranes forward with intrigue. Would he earn himself more radiance? Be the apple in their mothers eye for the moon?
No. He fails, verdant optics look as though they might just pop out of his head. Pinekit is not proud of it, but she can just barely suppress the sudden urge to let her lips quirk into a knowing grin.
The emotions that dance behind sunny optics are gross, deep down she knows- but as their mothers prideful gaze turns to something stern, the girl sees her moment of opportunity. “Hey, Crabby.” Slipping past Iciclefang and Ferngill, Pinekit would settle next to her littermate, and when she finally lets the smile shine through it is one of pure encouragement. A snow-dipped forepaw reaches for tawny, “ ‘ts just like eating lunch, right? ‘sy peasy.” A pause, golden gaze drifting to Iciclefang for a fleeting moment, seeking some sort of approval before she looks to her littetmate again. “ You got this. I believe in you.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── AND I BEG TO BE TESTED ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ BY GODDESSES RESTING ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• 
  PINEKIT ✩ she/her, kit of riverclan, 5 moons.
  ⭃ plush-furred tortoiseshell she-kit with white dipped forepaws, tail tip, and muzzle and round, honey hued optics.
  ⭃ daughter of Iciclefang && Stormywing ࿏ sister to Cragkit && Crabkit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

​

 

[FERNGILL]

The joy didn't blaze completely for a while- it flickered into embers in the atmosphere when Ferngill realised Crabkit's hesitance. Many of Iciclefang's kits traits he could find gazing back at his family, but Crabkit's pacifism he couldn't exactly place- maybe in Darkwhisker, but even his hatred of fighting had not extended to prey animals. Ferngill himself had been untalented but very, very willing- that sprawled through everything she did.

It hurt his heart to see tears prickling Crabkit's bright green eyes, especially with Houndstride and Cicadaflight watching. But Pinekit- sturdy, kind Pinekit- strode forward with a smile on her face to give her brother some encouragement and oh, Ferngill didn't know how Iciclefang wasn't melting just looking at it. "Iciclefang is right, Crabkit..." his voice was softer, more sympathetic as always, but he wasn't about to undermine his sister by giving in. "It's not happy flopping around on the shore like this. But the queens will be very happy when you bring lunch for one of the kits."​

✦ penned by pin ✦​

 

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 The instant he speaks, the boy knows that he’s made a mistake. Icy eyes lose their shine, any semblance of pride fleeing them just as the minnow had tried to. For a moment he clings to the hope that she’ll give in, and just do it for him, but the calico queen refuses to. She says that the fish will die anyway, now that it’s out of the water, and that knowledge sinks like a stone in Crabkit’s stomach. He’s never felt a feeling quite like it before—heavy, heavy, heavy and he doesn’t feel like killing it will be merciful at all. He wants to sink into the ground, and the desire is reflected in the way that he hunkers down, nervous. "Mama, it…" It doesn’t want to die. I don’t want to be the reason it dies. But it’s already dying, and it’s not happy, like Ferngill says. He’s… he’s already killed it, just slowly. Painfully. Would Rivuletkit and Algaekit and Redkit want to eat the fish, though? Tears begin to slip down his face, tracking lines from his eyes down his muzzle. They drip, drip, drip down into the minnow’s scales, and the fish gives another flop.

Pinekit’e encouragement is the final push that he needs. His tortoiseshell littermate’s paw touches his own, and Crabkit has to steel himself to prepare for what he must do. At last, the kit bites down on the fish. Teeth pierce scales and sink in, and after a heartbeat the fish stops moving. He lets it go, and it gives one final, weakened flop. "I’m sorry," he gasps, blood trickling down his throat. It’s never tasted this bad when he’s eaten already-dead prey. It’s never tasted so… sour. The fish doesn’t move again, and the kit lifts his head to stare up at Pinekit. "It’s not like eating lunch."

˚𓆛˚｡ the river will take me

• ooc: —
• 
  CRABKIT ❯❯ he/him, kit of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragkit & pinekit
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

​

​

 

[iciclefang]

Crabkit's tearful gaze turns toward her, pleading with her not to make him do what he must. Iciclefang does not relent, even as Pinekit offers her littermate advice and Ferngill gives him courage. The tortoiseshell queen stares at her youngest son, willing him to clamp down, willing him to finish his kill. He would embarrass me in front of these warriors, she thinks, and it's not a nice thought — it's one she quickly brushes away, eager to banish it.

Pinekit waits, Ferngill is still, and then Crabkit moves.

He clamps down, and the fish spasms in his jaws. The bit of prey stops moving, and blood begins to seep from Crabkit's orange jaws. "It's not like eating lunch," he tells his sister, but Iciclefang can't help the relief that sweeps through her. He'd done it — he had made his first kill.

"Well done, Crabkit," she mews, a hint of warmth creeping into her voice now. The frost has melted from her gaze. "Take that to Robinheart and her kits. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Iciclekit . Iciclepaw . Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — 25 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
  — mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
  — riverclan lead warrior & queen. mudpelt x icesparkle, gen 2.
  — former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.
  
  

​