camp JUST A SATELLITE ✦ STARCLAN?

[Joykit]

Joykit sat near the edge of camp, her paws tucked beneath her and her tail wrapped around her small body. She had overheard the older cats talking about StarClan more than once, and the words had stuck in her mind ever since. They spoke of StarClan like it was something important, something that guided RiverClan cats in their lives.

But… what was it?

She tilted her head to the sky, eyes squinting as she gazed up at the stars twinkling far above. There were so many of them! Too many to count. Surely that couldn't be what they were referencing? The more she thought about it, the more confused she became. She had seen other cats stand beneath the moon before, looking up at the stars with such seriousness in their eyes. But to her, it just looked like a bunch of little lights scattered across the night sky. So what was the big deal?

After a few moments of contemplation, she stood up and padded over to one of the older warriors near the entrance of camp. She paused in front of them, her ears twitching nervously. "Excuse me," she mewed, "What's StarClan? Is it like… the stars in the sky?" She looked up, trying to make sense of the mystery swirling in her head. "I've heard cats here talk about them a lot, but… I don't really get it." Her bright, blue-green eyes looked back at the cat in front of her, awaiting an answer. She was hoping someone would explain it—surely, someone here had to know more about it.

// anyone is free to be the character she's talking to!

( °❀.ೃ࿔* ) just miss what it was

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  JOYKIT KIT; SHE / HER ; RUE X UNKNOWN ; SIBLING TO LIGHT & HOPE
  

  Joykit is a fiercely independent and passionate she-kit, born into a harsh world where survival is a constant battle. Abandoned by her mother on the border of RiverClan, she is determined to carve her own path, driven by a competitive spirit and a need to prove herself. Proud and quick-tempered, Joy's journey will be shaped by her struggle to stand strong in a world that doesn't always show mercy.

  ✦ Unskilled kit

 

[HOUNDKIT]

Houndkit was aware of what StarClan was, as his mother always told him to give thanks to them before his meals. He knew that they were some kind of higher power, watching over them after death and somehow protecting us. Yet that part, Houndkit wasn't so sure he had an explanation. Protection from after death seemed like a concept quite impossible to Houndkit, but he assumed that faith had something to do with that. As long as you have faith in StarClan, they returned the favor to you. Or something like that. His mother would have an easier time vocalizing what exactly StarClan was.

Houndkit had been lazing by the camps' edge, staring down at his reflection in the stream surrounding the camp until Joykit's inquiry caught his attention. Other than admiring himself, he was also trying to see if any minnows were journeying through to no avail. Yet, this question drew in his interest. Quietly, he paced towards Joykit and the warrior she had curiously asked. "They're just like us." Houndkit pitched in. "But dead." With Houndkit's own interpretation, he shrugged unsurely. "My mom says they watch over us in the stars—that's why they're called StarClan. She tells me that we should be grateful to them for you know... Protection and food." There was an obvious hint of indifference to his own statement, but Houndkit was simply projecting what he's learned.​

 

[splashdance]

"You two -" Splashdance pants, suddenly approaching behind the wayward kits. She grits her teeth as the momentary panic from losing children on her watch fades. They weren't lost, just not where they had been when she closed her eyes. Good to know that kittens wander and move, she supposes. Bad to realize that she's growing too large to keep up with the lot of them. She will have to speak with Houndkit's mother, and maybe Firefrost, about taking turns until her own are born. (But then that takes away some of her freedom, does it not? Or does it add to it, giving her brevity away from the nursery?)

"- should not be so close to leaving camp," she finishes with her eyebrows pinched. Her tail lashes, and the fact that the both of them should be asleep goes largely unmentioned, obscured by the conversation and curiosity at hand. Houndkit seems eager to answer his denmate's inquiry, and frankly, she sees nothing immediately wrong with his explanation. She even offers a soft, "We do give thanks to StarClan for every meal we catch and eat," in agreeance. Briefly she thinks of Lichenstar's denied code, an uncomfortable brewing in her stomach (or is that the kits?) at the thought of it. She tries to brush the memory away, trudging on with, "The medicine cats can speak with them, and sometimes the leader, too - in fact, Lichenstar got extra lives from them, so that they can lead RiverClan for longer." Her tail twitches, and she vaguely wonders how many lives the older molly has left. Has she been there when Lichenstar lost any of them?

She discards the worry. "You guys can ask for tales about StarClan as nighttime stories," she reminds them, though she sits to ease the weight off of her legs, "We should really be off to bed soon."​

 

[shellpool]

SHELLPOOL

SHE / HER, RIVERCLAN WARRIOR

once, a long time ago now, eveningkit waited at the entrance to camp for her to return. the moment she noses through the horse and reed that crowns the maw of their hollow, bright eyes greet her, mouth running and little tail lashing a storm. shellpaw had taken great joy in telling her stories of the outside . . she had only just discovered it herself, condemned to the medicine den as she was. she wove stories the way her mother had, back when the meadowlands were as big and unknowable as it had been when she was young and stupid, clawing through the bramble wall and into the inlets out back. eveningcloud had her own life, now. far from the kit she used to be, alongside her siblings who have all moved on in their own right. stepping into camp, she no longer had to worry or watch for kittens underpaw ; certainly not in the leafbare they had.

not until now, when she steps in and, within moments, she is approached. big, curious eyes, a polite voice steeled despite its uncertain warble. the dusk is growing dimmer, stars jutting the sky above . . she, and little houndkit, should have long been curled in their nests by the time her hunting patrol returned. the sight of splashdance hobbling up behind them earns the queen a long, hard stare as she titters a halfhearted scolding and tacking her own view of their ancestors behind houndkits. it's flippant, brief, and shellpool can't say she doesn't expect it from someone like her ; you guys can ask for tales about starclan as nighttime stories. she is viscerally reminded of the disconnect, the marsh blood that keeps her lesser than. a place where the only reflection of star to be seen was diluted in murk and mud, tinged brown like rot. heretic.

she drops her bird, whisks her tongue over pale lips. she had been asked, " each star. " her voice is soft despite the way she keeps her gaze firmly on splashdance for a moment, before flicking an ear, ruddy gaze shifting back down to the pair, thawing from its disdainful gleam, " is the eye . . of a cat who had once walked beside us. our family and . . friends. theyre there to guide us, but there are . . only certain cats they can reach. " cats like lichenstar, moonbeam, " starclan is made of . . cats who loved us, and lived a good, honorable life. cats who follow the warrior codes. " her gaze flicks hatefully back up, then down again. her voice is hoarse, haunting, a wingbeat flutter of strained, reverent vocals, " riverclan . . is blessed like no other. when the moon rises and the stars sparkle above, they . . pour their light into our rivers, and keep us fed with bountiful fish through the seasons. while other clans struggle for scraps of land, we are kept strong and fed by the very stars themselves. " they would learn about the ice, one day . . a turn away of starstudded eyes, a frosted layer of forced repentance. lichenstar's declaration had come shortly before the great thaw for a reason, and why the clans opposing had cast a curse upon themselves in turn, " and that is why we . . give thanks to them for each catch, and for the way the water protects us. not every cat . . knows how to swim like we do. "

ooc:

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. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓆝 ࿐

SHELLPOOLㅤ╱ㅤ WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. SHE/HER, 15☽s OLD. ; ELDEST DAUGHTER OF HAZECLOUD AND LICHENSTAR. SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. LIVING WITH LONGTERM ILLNESS. she is always exhibiting the symptoms of a lingering cold : watery eyes, a running nose and frequent sneezing & sniffling. penned by antlers. ₊ ˚ ໒꒱

( ° ❀ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔ * ) she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted eiderdown fur conceals a body worn thin by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with stubborn baby fat in others. her face is delicately constructed as the rest of her ; heart - shaped, fragile, tendered with warmly shadowed eyes. beneath the languor of lapis - veined lids, her gaze brims a rheumy, rosen tinge — ruddy like a pulsing bruise, curtained with heavy lashes that keep her serenely half - lidded.

 

[Joykit]

Joykit listened quietly as the answers came—first from Houndkit, then Splashdance, and finally Shellpool. Each one layered a little more weight onto the question she had thought was simple. What's StarClan? She hadn't expected so much talk of watching eyes and blessings, of warriors who walked the sky and lit the rivers. Shellpool's voice stuck with her the most—soft and solemn, full of meaning that Joykit wasn't sure she understood. Or maybe didn't want to.

Her eyes wandered upward again, toward the stars. They didn't look like cats to her. Just little pinpricks of light—cold and distant, too far away to matter. She didn't say much. There were questions itching under her skin, ones she didn't quite have the courage to ask aloud. If they really watched over everyone, why didn't they help when Mama was starving? Or when Hope and Light were sick? The words curled heavy in her chest, sharp-edged and unspoken. Maybe it was better that way.

Instead, she gave Houndkit a quiet nod, polite but uncertain. "I guess… that makes sense," she said softly. It didn't—not really—but she didn't want to argue.

Then Splashdance spoke again, firm but gentle, her tired voice urging them toward sleep. Joykit's ears twitched, her gaze flicking toward the queen. She looked heavier than she had just a few days ago, like even standing upright was effort. Joykit felt a flicker of guilt. Splashdance had already done so much—she didn't want to be a burden.

"Right," she mumbled, brushing a paw along the dirt. "Sorry… I didn't mean to keep everyone up." Her voice came a little quieter now, tinged with something almost embarrassed. "I just… wanted to understand." She turned to leave, but something about what Splashdance had said still echoed in her mind.

Extra lives.

She couldn't stop thinking about that. That StarClan gave leaders more than one life—nine. What kind of power was that? What kind of cat got to live more than once just because stars said so? The idea was strange and almost unfair. How many lives had her family been given? Just one. One, and they were gone. She didn't know if she believed it. She wasn't sure if she wanted to believe it.

Still, as she padded toward the nursery, she looked up one last time, watching the stars flicker faintly above the camp. They didn't look like anyone she knew. Not yet.

But maybe, just maybe, she'd learn to see them differently. One day.

But not tonight.

( °❀.ೃ࿔* ) just miss what it was

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  JOYKIT KIT; SHE / HER ; RUE X UNKNOWN ; SIBLING TO LIGHT & HOPE
  

  Joykit is a fierce and proud cinnamon marbled tabby kit with a sharp mind and a fire in her heart. Independent to a fault and stubbornly self-reliant, she carries herself with boldness far beyond her size, refusing to be seen as weak or helpless. Competitive, energetic, and cunning, she meets the world with a challenging glare and a guarded heart, shaped by the hardship and loss of her early life as a loner. Beneath her bristled edges lies a deep resilience and a drive to prove she belongs—on her terms and no one else's.

  ✦ Unskilled kit