little red lungs ✘ outing

[SMOKESTAR]

They were going to be apprenticed within the next moon and despite looking forward to a return to the norm and his usual duties a small part of him was melancholic about it all. He didn't want to be stuck in camp any longer and he wanted them to begin training so they could learn and hone the skills that would help them to survive in this world but he also wanted to keep them safely tucked into his and Cicadastar's nest where he could curl around them and hiss and snarl at anyone who so much as stepped a paw too close. That was entirely unreasonable and he knew it, but it didn't stop him feeling that odd tinge of despair at the knowledge soon they would move to the apprentice den and he would be handing them over to their new mentors. He and Cicadastar had spoken at length at who could be trusted to train them right, a few too many RiverClanners were unskilled in combat and had a little too lenient demeanors or idealogies for him to trust but they had settled at last one an appropriate trio to step up to the plate. Smokethroat could do no more than that when it came to them growing, but at the very least he could rest easier in the vacant nest with the knowledge noble and proper cats were taking up the reigns.
To stave off the ambient anxiety he had begun to feel the closer and closer the day came he decided unprompted that he would be stealing the clan's leader for an outing. Yellowcough, the colony, all of it could be ignored for a few hours and mottled phantom could humor him this once. With the kits in tow he lead the way along the river, pausing to ensure they had not wandered or tipped over into it at any point of the trek before they arrived to the rocky outcrop along the bend where small shallow pools had formed along the edge of the water for splashing; filled with minnow and tadpoles caught by the rising and lowering of the river's whim.
"Do not wander far and do not go out into the deep water without me or your father." It is a warning, his usual 'I am being serious' tone accompanied by a narrowed orange eye but the moment he got any affirmative feedback, a little nod or two, he would smile softly and tilt his head to the nearest puddle. "Look here, this one has tadpoles in it.."

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
[Ooc]
Family Priv - @CICADASTAR & @CICADAKIT & @BEEKIT & @STARLIGHTKIT
​

 

[BEEFANG]

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳˚❥ She walks after her fathers not toddling along like she used to as a younger kitten, no, Beekit was still small in comparison to Cicadakit and Starlightkit but she was determined that she would not let her stature hold her back. She would be as great as her littermates, her large ears that were comically large and looked like they had been misplaced on her head perking forward as Smokethroat speaks telling them not to wander into the deeper water without either him or Cicadastar. Beekit gives an understanding nod soon offering a little toothy smile but her attention focuses on the tadpoles that her papa is quick to point out and she tilts her head to the side remembering the lesson Iciclefang had given her and her littermates about fishing worms. She wonders if she could use the same method to snag one of these little tadpoles, the little molly unsure if these plump little frog-to-bes were even remotely edible. The river princess wishes to ask but chooses not to as she sits by close with curiosity lighting up her little bicolored gaze, a snowy paw reaching forward into the little shallow pool and retracting it back.

Her eyes catch the movement of the little fish trapped in the pools and the fur along the back of her neck rises with excitement, she wonders if she could manage to catch one of them for her siblings especially seeing as they were small morsels compared to her fathers. The fish would serve as bite size snacks if anything, Beekit slowly approaches a pool with a few minnows that are swimming back and forth. The little smoke molly focusing on the little fish as they dart back and forth, she used the same snowy paw as before to swipe forward and managed to hook one of the fish to her tiny thorn-like claws watching as it flew behind her soon pitifully flopping on the ground. She had to work on not letting it fly far from her is what she thinks before jumping on the squirming fish and wrapping her little fangs around it unable to help but wince for a single heartbeat as it crunches under the pressure of her jaws.

She gives a happy little hop to her usual cheery gait approaching Smokethroat with her small catch, maybe one day, she'll be able to catch a big fish. For now, she seems content with the minnow she has caught during their little family outing.

𓆟. ° .• . THERE MIGHT BE NOTHING LEFT TO SAY

• 
  ❥ 3 moons old
  ❥ riverclan apprentice
  ❥ sexuality unknown; single
  ❥ daughter of smokethroat & cicadastar
  ❥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ❥ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ❥ penned by bosstaurus

​

 

[CICADAFLIGHT]

✦₊ ⊹—— ready. he does not feel ready—while his siblings seem apprenhensive but excited, cicadakit only feels dread rising in his throat at the thought of apprenticeship. his kithood, spent cowering under ferns and staring at the river longingly, feels like time wasted. he could never go back, he realizes now, never again be small and curled at his pa's flank, exiled to apprentices' den. never again would he have the luxury of spending the day resting in shade, but long hours being drilled and trained and whipped into shape by whoever his fathers chose as his mentor. he does not feel ready.

he pads after his pa, head low as if weighed down by these thoughts and expression gloomy despite the promise of an outing with his father. he doesn't like feeling this way when they spend time together, feeling as though he's weighing down the fun outings with his very being. that his presence alone is something that inspires carefully hidden disgust in his parents, his siblings, though he's been assured time and time again by beekit that this isn't the truth. he can't help it, though, and it shows in the slump of his bony shoulders. the boy tries to pick up his pace to keep up, knowing his fathers want this to be good for him, knowing they only want good for him.

"okay," the boy rasps in reply, though his eyes are dark and longing as he stares out at the deeper parts. he's rewarded by his father's softened smile and for a moment he can ignore the hypnotic pull of those depths, scampering after his sister to the puddle of tadpoles. he has days of apprenticeship ahead, unwanted as they might be, to deal with responsibility and swim in the deep river and handle these dark thoughts. for today he can be cicadakit, running after his siblings to play with minnows and tadpoles.

"you got one, bee!" he mews in quiet excitement as she snares a minnow, peering at it over her shoulder before turning back to the puddle of tadpoles. pinning his small pink tongue between his teeth and leaning so close his overlong muzzle nearly touches the puddle, he swipes at the tadpoles, though they always seem to dart away from his paws. the boy sits up with a sigh, blowing air between his canines, "i didn't get any."

I AM GOD (✦) 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑩𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑹𝑶𝒀𝑬𝑫

• ooc: ——
  
• disclaimer: it's important to note that cicadakit is not always in a stable state of mind. his view of the world may not always be accurate to objective reality, which may include seeing things that are not genuinely there, reading motivations or thoughts from actions that are not actually implied, and making assumptions or jumping to conclusions. this is not an attempt at metagaming, powerplaying, or mischaracterization, and is not legitimately true or correct to reality or what your characters actually think or believe.
  
  it will always be noted in the post if he is seeing something that isn't actually there. all opinions & thoughts are ic only and do not reflect my thoughts and opinions as a writer.
• 
  — cicadakit
  — he/him ; kit of riverclan ; 3 ☾s
  — "speech" ; thoughts ; attacks
  — penned by dejavu
  

​

 

[CICADASTAR]

lazing alongside his mate was a welcome change from the dark of his work, his mind. the sun warms his back through wind - whispered willow, dappling the meadowland ground in a lightshow of gold - black. shells catch in the reflection of water cast against scratch - ridden bark, beaming in his peripheries with each step. birds in the distance. a dove, howling its usual song up to the clear, cloudless heavens. the deputy could not have picked a better day for their outing, when the forest cools just a bit from the burn of greenleaf. the wind sways lazily through the branches above and he watches, chin tipped skywards. forever in thought — his mother had been similar, from what little he remembers ( he remembers the feeling more than anything ), a quiet molly with little interest in her children’s lives beyond keeping them breathing. cicadastar hopes that, in this, he is better than her.

he is haunted, a shadow lingering just behind where his children move curiously about. ghosts linger in the darkness at his heels, biting hounds shackling him to life outside of this : this brief softness. smokethroat eases them into life and their time is waning. cicadakit plods along with his head down, paws like lead trudging through tall, dew - studded grass just as he had seasons and seasons ago. was this good for him? he remembers being trapped in a shambling pile of too long legs and no body mass, locked away behind old, wooden walls wet with rot and water until his mother returned with scraps. what would he have done, if he’d gotten this? would he, too, have followed after with head down and eyes heavy? did it matter? the leader skulks behind, the bladed wings of his shoulders jutting uncomfortably taut with each stride until they reach their destination.

a rocky expanse of ground, water trickling lazily over corroded stone. the cool breeze casts light off sheening waters and through the curls of his coat and — despite the ticking of his worried mind, his shoulders relax, slump at his side just slightly. there were things to be done, sick to fish for, but this stolen moment breathes life into him. watching their litter scamper forward, peer into mirrored waters rich with minnow and tadpoles.

and beekit, miraculously, hooks one. with little, arching claws and tiny paws — iciclefang’s lesson had stuck with her, it seemed. it takes a beat of stunned, blinking silence before he realizes what’s happened. the importance! the mottled leader releases a sound, something delighted and awestruck, " oh, my girl! my girl!" heavily accented tongue comes to life, a trill to his words that most do not witness. an uncomfortable brightness to most, the ever - present shadow across his features lifting into something not seen in moons. a glimpse into a time before loss, tragedy and fear. his eyes gleam, " look at you — your first catch! " and they're both there to see it. the man circles her, deerlike limbs stepping quick and excited when his head lifts towards her father — as if to say see? see? he’d have his work cut out for him, it seemed.

children were difficult. life, he thinks, is difficult. would he remember this moment when life bleeds from him a fifth time? a sixth? perhaps he’d pulled him away from duty but also stress, loss. his throat clicks, and cicadakit moves up to try — sticks his muzzle close, and misses, large paws flailing the shallow water before he sits up, huffs a sound from pointed teeth. frustration. he was only a boy, but his strike was sloppy, rushing tadpoles and small fish from his wandering claws even before he splashes about. amusement glitters in his eye, muted expression twitching at the lips, ” be aware of your shadow, cicadakit. “ a clear, sheening surface. houndstride had done this with him, seasons past — and he disregards that thought as quick as it comes, ” remember, they can see you just as well as you can see them. always sit with your face to the sun. “ sit where your shadow doesn’t cast. little comfort, but the river runs through them ; maybe this, too, was a love language.

COLD & CRUEL LIKE WINDS ON THE SEA  ╱ INFORMATION ✟

• i.
  
• ★ ⋆ CICADASTAR −−−− FOUNDING LEADER OF RIVERCLAN. HOMOSEXUAL, MATED TO SMOKETHROAT. FIFTY MOONS, FATHER TO STARLIGHTKIT, CICADAKIT && BEEKIT. PENNED BY ANTLERS −−−−− ⁺₊✧
  
  
  he / him. tall, elegantly curled smoke tortoiseshell chimera with intense salt blue eyes. his structure sings a feral sort of hymnal, presenting an almost dangerous sort of beauty veiling what monstrosities lie beneath the ivory of his skull. jutting jawline and a squared chin, sunken cheeks drawing a shadow beneath high, sharp cheekbones with tall, angular ears settling high atop the flatter slope of his cranium. he is beautiful ; lucifer in the eyes of an envious god. for all his looks, his expression is lax, void — corpse - eyed and hollow until spoken to, sparking the undead to life. he is tall, lean, cut - glass pretty ; he smiles with too - many teeth, blackened frostbite pulling back his maw to bear canines setn beneath curling whiskers, pantomime skeletal. a predatory gracefulness from the lines that press the image of exhaustion beneath ice water hues to the slow, sure gait in which he walks, nameless strength poorly concealed within the hard lines of his physique. descending from a heritage of overtyped oriental shorthairs, cicadastar stands unnaturally tall amongst his peers, always holding himself with a tragic sort of grace ; poised, prim, and uncannily aware of how he appears.
  
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── smells like wet moss and meadowland thunderstorms.
  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── notoriously paranoid and closed off, cicadastar will tend to lie, assume, and jump to conclusions whenever it suits him. any 'suspicious' ic actions he witnesses or hears about will have a strong effect, and will have ic consequences! if you're unsure of an interactions outcome, please feel free to send a dm!
  
  no character opinions represent my own.​
  
  
• " speech "​
  
  
  

​

 

[Cricketchirp]

————— ✩ —————
AND POINTED SKYWARDS

There is a humming beneath Starlightkit's skin, a pressure in their chest, a whispering voice in the reeds and the willows calling them forwards. Apprenticeship lingers just out of reach but growing ever closer, purpose and rightful glory. A chance to become something, to grow bigger than their tiny body and oft-ignored demands. The idea of fearing it, of dreading it as their brother does, is foreign. Alien, unthinkable. This is what she is meant for, she knows.

Minnows and tadpoles, tiny ponds, their domain in miniature. Things to come. She longs for bigger quarry, longs to wander off into the deep water that Smokethroat warns the three of them against. But Starlightkit dares not disobey his fathers. He pads dutifully behind them as he always does, thin legs towering above his sister, yet the tips of his large ears still just reaching the crown of his brother's head. Perfectly in the middle, not too short nor too tall. Though, perhaps their metric for what counts as too tall is a little skewed.

Regardless. Starlightkit is eager to peer into the shallow pond, glassy ripples reflecting the heavens above. It teems with life, just as Smokethroat promises, little creatures swimming and swarming beneath the surface. They dance a strange pattern, and Starlightkit finds himself mesmerized in the watching.

He jerks in surprise when a paw strikes water, eyes trailing up its length to see his sister. The blank surprise is replaced quickly with a gleaming, toothy smile. Beekit glows nearly as bright as Starlightkit herself, and a warm pride fills the youngest sibling's chest. "Good catch, Bee!" he trills, pulling himself closer in tandem with Cicadastar. The brightness in her father's face is strange, but welcome. The jealousy is only a flicker, drowned out by the surprise. Your first catch, declares their father. "You're gonna be a great hunter, I know it." It's certain, this catch must be omen of things to come. She will be great, just as Starlightkit will, just as Cicadakit will, just as their fathers are. It is written in the stars above, whispered by the same voices that call Starlightkit to warriorhood.

He'll just have to make his first catch even more impressive, to keep up. Cicadakit's attempts are clumsy, of course. Starlightkit's whiskers twitch with annoyance. "You're scaring all the fish away, Cada," she murmurs.

She doesn't interrupt, though. Cicadastar's advice is welcome, and she adjusts. Face the sun. Not something Starlightkit is keen on doing, but they father's word is sacred and so they will follow it. Move along the edge of the pool, trace a careful path. Eyes down, focused on their shadow. The glare creeps in at the edge of their vision, and —

Their shadow is gone. The sun burns bright ahead of them, and they hold heir paw aloft. They are still, statuesque, perfect and pristine, waiting to strike. They need to know the proper form, of course, before they can begin hunting. Need to know what is expected before she can do it. "Like this?" Starlightkit asks in a quiet hum, holding herself still and waiting for approval. She will do it perfect, or she will not do it at all.

SCRAPE THE HEAVENS !
————— ✩ —————

₊°✩ info ; visual

• //
  ​
• STARLIGHTKIT named for faith and for the star-like mark on her forehead.
  — he/him, she/her, they/them. 3 moons.
  — riverclan apprentice, mentored by petalnose
  — proud and strange, with boundless curiosity.
  
  penned by saturnid.​
• "SPEECH"
  ​
• 

​