- Aug 4, 2024
- 16
- 3
- 3
Yippingkit is decidedly too young to grasp the intricacies of ThunderClan's politics. Howlingstar had been there, had promised him safety, and then she had been tossed over a wall to die. Fallowbite had killed his mother, and then it had killed its leader — or, at least, it had stood by to watch it happen. He had little attachment to the brown-streaked ex-leader, but he remembers the night of her death vividly; fear had been a thick fog over them all. Vile cruelty had exploded around camp until it felt rimed in blood. Yippingkit had huddled in the nursery, facing the wall on Nightbird's instruction, with only Doepath — now Doecry — and his littermates for comfort. There had been no exits. Only hot and spitting fear and hatred, in such a volume that it had caused him not to leave the nursery for a single sunrise since.
But comfort has found them in strange ways. Their silent stillness had only been external, while their mind had exploded with new ideas about cruelty and suspicion and what it meant to be afraid. After a talk with their littermates, they had come to a new conclusion: the only way out is through. There are no exits, but Yippingkit knows how they can weather the storm now. If they play nice, maybe no one will ever harm them again.
So they find Fallowbite, monster that it is. They tremble as they greet her with little more than a hollow-eyed stare. She could kill them — she had killed before, and he had seen it — but something has stopped her in the past moon that Yippingkit does not fully understand. Still, fostering some breed of kindness with it would do him well, he thinks. "Will you play Clan with me?" he asks it, and when it agrees, he does not give it a chance to change its mind.
"I'll be Yippingclaw," Yippingkit tells her, "and you'll be Fallowstar." They ignore the tremor in their polydactyl paws, stepping a few paces back and puffing out their chest in as best a display of confidence they can muster. They look a bit like a dried leaf clinging to its branch. They realize too late that they must think of a reason for Fallowstar to be overthrown — they did not understand Howlingstar's proclivities for kittypets, or why it was such a bad thing — and so they invent. It is perhaps unfortunate that, for all of Yippingkit's imagination, they must play so closely to reality.
"Fallowstar, you hurt a bunch of cats!" the whelp decrees, voice hitching. He thinks of Baying Hound, of course, not realizing the other ways which it could be true; not thinking of the betrayal on Antlerpoison or Doecry's faces. "So I'm the Star now!" A natural misunderstanding for one not born into Clan life, he misidentifies his prospective role in his game, but he does not think much of it. Instead, Yippingkit launches himself at his littermate, kitten claws unsheathing instinctually, batting at Fallowbite's huge frame without care for where the pinprick blows might land.
But comfort has found them in strange ways. Their silent stillness had only been external, while their mind had exploded with new ideas about cruelty and suspicion and what it meant to be afraid. After a talk with their littermates, they had come to a new conclusion: the only way out is through. There are no exits, but Yippingkit knows how they can weather the storm now. If they play nice, maybe no one will ever harm them again.
So they find Fallowbite, monster that it is. They tremble as they greet her with little more than a hollow-eyed stare. She could kill them — she had killed before, and he had seen it — but something has stopped her in the past moon that Yippingkit does not fully understand. Still, fostering some breed of kindness with it would do him well, he thinks. "Will you play Clan with me?" he asks it, and when it agrees, he does not give it a chance to change its mind.
"I'll be Yippingclaw," Yippingkit tells her, "and you'll be Fallowstar." They ignore the tremor in their polydactyl paws, stepping a few paces back and puffing out their chest in as best a display of confidence they can muster. They look a bit like a dried leaf clinging to its branch. They realize too late that they must think of a reason for Fallowstar to be overthrown — they did not understand Howlingstar's proclivities for kittypets, or why it was such a bad thing — and so they invent. It is perhaps unfortunate that, for all of Yippingkit's imagination, they must play so closely to reality.
"Fallowstar, you hurt a bunch of cats!" the whelp decrees, voice hitching. He thinks of Baying Hound, of course, not realizing the other ways which it could be true; not thinking of the betrayal on Antlerpoison or Doecry's faces. "So I'm the Star now!" A natural misunderstanding for one not born into Clan life, he misidentifies his prospective role in his game, but he does not think much of it. Instead, Yippingkit launches himself at his littermate, kitten claws unsheathing instinctually, batting at Fallowbite's huge frame without care for where the pinprick blows might land.
-
ooc. please wait for @FALLOWBITE !
-
YIPPINGKIT —— kit of thunderclan . baying hound x duke . littermate to howlkit and thrashkit, sibling to many ✦ penned by meghan
✦ a hulking black smoke with low white. striking dual-toned eyes. fluctuates between total apathy and a need to fit in; difficult to befriend, and does not trust easily. unsure of thunderclan as a whole.
✦ intersex, nb masculine / he they pronouns / 03 moons & ages every 5th
✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
—— will start fights / will not flee / may show mercy. a kitten, he can hardly defend himself, but that will not stop him from trying. apt against opponents his age thanks to his sheer size.
✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
-