MADE MY BED, BUT I CANT REST — snake

Briarthorn

Briarthorn

Mrs. Highness —
ShadowClan 10K Yellowcough [Sitewide Event '23]
Jul 3, 2023
127
15
18

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BRIARKIT — hello, my old heart.
She’s waiting, patiently so, at the nursery’s entrance. Tail tapping rhythmically against the damp ground.
Starlingheart, Frostbite.. they were around, the healer was doting on her children.
Was that how parents were supposed to be? Or was her mother simply better than them? Out feeding her clan and showing off her skills?
Briarkit liked to think the latter, choosing to wear her mothers absence with pride rather than longing.
Still, the child found herself restless, her paws needed to move.
So they did, away from the watchful eye of the other queens they wandered in slow zig-zags around camp, trailed along the outskirts in search of something entertaining.
She is stopped in her tracks by a puddle, still in the process of being cooked by the sun overhead.
Yet, her eyes are frozen on what is in the puddle. It moves slowly, twisting and turning as though trying to making it’s way out, towards the sun.
Briarkit has never seen anything like it before, it’s body weirdly long, disgustingly shiny.
The kitten leans cautiously forward, wanting to get a better look.
It twisted once more, as if just becoming aware of her presence.
Briarkit takes a small step back, lips twisting in a flat grimace.
gross.

"speech"
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Tadpolepaw rarely ever strays towards the nursery. They don't think they'd be particularly good with kits, despite having been one themself not many moons ago. It'd been a different kind of kithood for them though; they were not raised by a bustling village but a single, steady hand, groomed by twolegs and not feline tongues. They barely even recall their siblings, much less other kittens. Maybe that's why they still feel so out of place in ShadowClan, what with their recent influx of them.

They're lounging in a shaft of sunlight, eyes half-lidded. Needledrift isn't a particularly harsh mentor—no, she's actually one of the more patient ones, which they appreciate. She doesn't drive them too hard, but the work itself is still simply hard, and that's why Tadpolepaw is snatching their break right now.

Something moves in the iridescent corner of their eye. Normally it wouldn't be anything to lift their head at, but this movement is stranger than a rhythmic series of paw-steps or a flick of a nearby tail. Curling, shimmering, coiling. They blink. A little black kit—they haven't bothered to learn all their names yet—perches near one of the many stagnant pools of water, except this one isn't quite stagnant.

They're not particularly quick about it, but they try to get the job done. With awkward, hesitant movements, they lope towards her and attempt to use their teeth to yank the kit backwards by her tail. Their stomach twists at the harshness of the action, but snakes, especially waterborne ones, aren't particularly rare around ShadowClan territory. Needledrift had been quick to point that out. "It didn't bite you, did it?" She'd be yowling if it had, you know. Their gaze stays glued to the snake. They're not about to put themself in harm's way just yet, but they hope she wouldn't go crawling closer to it again. Or cry. You didn't have to do it that hard.​
 

Nettlekit, lounging nearby, was perfectly content in watchfulness. Watching as the inky shadow of Briarkit slunk out of the mouth of the nursery. Watching as she moseyed a little closer to what was probably a stinking, stale pool of puddle-water. Watching as she wrinkled her nose in disgust- and that, that was when he decided he wasn't placated by mere observation anymore. Springing to snowy paws, he bounded over- though, didn't quite make it all the way before Tadpolepaw lunged forward, attempting to wrangle Briarkit away.

Nettlekit's summersky gaze shot wide, and he craned his neck a little in his slower-teetering approach in an attempt to get a better look at what dwelled in that probably-horrible water. There was something in there, definitely... looping, moving. It looked like a cat's tail, severed.

"What would have bit her?" he asked, staring at the apprentice expectantly. His voice was not demanding- nor was it fazed by what was clearly present danger. Ever casual, his tone seemed to imply he didn't care whether Tadpolepaw answered him- but his inquisitive expression betrayed his curiosity, clearly.​
penned by pin ♡​
 

Typically, Screechkit is the one being pulled away from things he shouldn't be getting into. He'd gotten bored of sitting at the nursery's entrance long before Briarkit had - wandering off from its shelter, from his littermate's watchful gaze.

Wandering alongside the brambled walls, Screechkit manages to be tugged away from his curiosities, despite no one telling him to do so. He hears the commotion - a voice. Split-green eyes look up, wide as he watches the scene; as he watches an apprentice try to pull Briarkit away from something. He squints. A puddle...?

Confusion quells one curiosity but fuels another. What was wrong with the puddle that Briarkit needed to be moved away from it? Dark paws move toward the scene, slowing to a stop beside orange and white fur - close enough to peer into the puddle beside Nettlekit. The answer before him isn't much of an answer. Something stick-shaped, but moving as if it wasn't. Wriggling about, like it doesn't like the puddle it lives in.

"What's that?" he asks, a sun-splotched paw taking another step forward to try to get a closer look. Nettlekit asks the same, but differently - a question of biting. Screechkit blinks, watching the moving stick for a second longer before looking up at the apprentice. "Does it really bite?"

How could it bite, if it was stuck in the water? Legless, struggling to move in the puddle before them? It doesn't make much sense to the kit, as he cranes forward to watch the strange creature.
​
 
🕱 NO I DON'T MIND YOU ARE A BEAUTY 🕱
maggotpaw & 09 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan apprentice​
In all honesty, Maggotpaw cares little for the saftey of the kits nearby - no, the girl is merely interested in the wriggling creature laid out before them. She's never seen a snake up close before, or not a living one anyway - will this one make just as pretty a skeleton as the pieces she already has? What must it taste like? She hardly pays the others mind, her towering form creeping upon the puddle slowly, turquoise gaze blown wide in a rare show of interest. Pink tongue swipes against sharp teeth, and a heavy paw comes down in an attempt to kill the thing - but she misses, watching as it wriggles and rears up, a strange sort of hissing coming from it - not like a cat, but more like wind through leaves, she notes. "Its fast," she says blankly, as she stares into beady eyes - is it dangerous? She's not certain, but... perhaps it's worth it, she thinks, to risk it for the prize.

— not temptation, you're my creation ♛
  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • — a massive tabby she-cat with striking turquoise eyes, there has always been something not-right about her. cold and apathetic, and more than a bit unhinged, the monster that is maggotpaw is a volitile presence within shadowclan. she seems strangely taken by magpiepaw, putting herself in role of both tormentor and protector.

    — physically medium && mentally hard
    — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    — please attack using [b][color=mediumpurple]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 
Flintkit hates the nursery. It's a dirty place for kittens that lack his strength, his smarts; he is ever grateful to his mother that she does not force her litter into its cramped walls. He likes the bitter scent of the herbs he is often surrounded by. They smell like Starlingheart. And they certainly smell better than the warm, milk-smothered claustrophobia of ShadowClan's nursery, bursting with kits who don't look at him and kits who he doesn't look at, either.

He would continue to ignore them, too, if Briarkit didn't manage to get herself in trouble-- or so it seemed. Tadpolepaw yanks the girl backwards away from a mere puddle, and Flintkit's eyebrows furrow just slightly with his interest. What's so dangerous about a puddle? The slate-pelted kitten stalks towards the group while Tadpolepaw frantically assesses Briarkit. It didn't bite you, did it? they ask her, and Flintkit's bi-color gaze flicks into the black water only to spot the black thing within it, twisting and looping. He stills near his clay-furred littermate, his own tail flicking as if to mimic the movement of the snake.

Nettlekit and Screechkit both ask about it; what it is, how it bites. Flintkit struggles to understand it, too, though he refuses to admit as much by asking. He thinks he has heard of such a thing before-- this writhing, legless form, with black scales and pink teeth and a bite that rotted cats from the inside out. But he can't remember exactly, and the ambiguousness of the danger frustrates him. Maggotpaw tries to kill it in a smooth strike, but she misses, and in doing so only seems to agitate the creature. Its pus-white mouth gleams in the sunlight as it releases a hiss like wind-struck wheat.

Flintkit casts his gaze sidelong to Briarkit. Stupid Briarkit, he thinks, his criticism bright in his gaze; a smart warrior wouldn't get close enough to let it bite. A better warrior would kill it. Flintkit's own claws unsheathe into the mud he stands on, as if he were big enough to fell the beast himself. But no, he is smarter than that-- after all, if Maggotpaw couldn't catch it, how could he? But he figures it wouldn't hurt to be ready for such a thing. "Is it really dangerous?" he asks Tadpolepaw. He'd only heard stories of the hulking bears that had driven ShadowClan underground, and this is certainly not comparable in size, but he knew they were dangerous enough to kill cats. As he stares at the snake, he wonders if a trip to the medicine would even do any good after its bite, the way Tadpolepaw had reacted. "'Cause if it is, someone should kill it already."​
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He is roused by a ruckus outside the nursery. He had been vaguely aware of something going on outside, but unable to pull himself from sleep as quickly as he wanted. It was like having no control of his body, like his soul wasn't connected to himself. After forcing himself to open his heavy eyes, his next battle was to move. He had never expected to be so exhausted.

It's the hiss he hears outside that raises his fur and spurs his body into motion, waking his mind into a state of alarm.

A snake.

His eyes dart around and he spots the kits congregated outside. Panic grips his heart and he leaves his nest.

Short strides take him to oversee the puddle and the serpent coiled inside it.

"This is a snake." He explains to the kits calmly. " They are dangerous. Some more than others... Some have venom in their fangs that can kill in minutes." He explains, eyes narrowing on the snake.

He slowly steps around the puddle, gaze pinned on the snake. It seems focused on Maggotpaw at the moment, which he takes to his advantage.

With a quick, hefty strike, he slams his paw down on the snakes head, pinning it to the ground as it writhes beneath him. Without wasting a second, he reached down and gripped the snakes neck in his jaws and bit down into it's throat.

Once he's crushed its windpipe, he releases it and watches it writhe even after death. Strange things.

"Always make sure to disable the head first... And then quickly kill it before it can slip free. Most snakes writhe still after death.... Not sure why." He explains.

He relaxes, relieved. The danger is gone and none of the kits are being eaten today. He looks to Maggotpaw and Tadpolepaw. "You two did good keeping everyone safe."​
 
🕱 NO I DON'T MIND YOU ARE A BEAUTY 🕱
maggotpaw & 09 moons & female & she/her & shadowclan apprentice​
Frostbite's attempt is much more successful than her's and she takes note - he's even kind enough to make it into a lesson, and she nods to his words. She pulls herself from her crouch, instead tucking her white paws beneath her mass of fur as she sits, tail tip twitching as she watches it wriggle and writhe despite it's death. "Of course, anyone would... Can snakes be eaten?" she asks, as though she'd meant to protect the kits, and hadn't in fact only wanted to taste the new prey. She hopes the answer is yes.

— not temptation, you're my creation ♛
  • Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '

    ooc: —
    tw/cw: —
  • — a massive tabby she-cat with striking turquoise eyes, there has always been something not-right about her. cold and apathetic, and more than a bit unhinged, the monster that is maggotpaw is a volatile presence within shadowclan. she seems strangely taken by magpiepaw, putting herself in role of both tormentor and protector.

    — physically medium && mentally hard
    — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
    — please attack using [b][color=mediumpurple]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

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BRIARKIT — hello, my old heart.
The trance comes to a brutal snap as suddenly Briarkit is yanked backwards by her tail, a hiss escapes her in the kittens surprise, and she’d whip around with unsheathed claws swinging, though unlikely to actually strike the well-intentioned apprentice.
They ask if she was bitten, and widened eyes narrow in confusion. "No." She replies flatly, but her answer is muffled under the sudden wave of Nettlekit, Screechkit, and Flintkit’s noisy arrival.
They ask burning questions, and her own expectant eyes flicker to Maggotpaw- she’s older, so she should know the answers.
It’s fast.
Her ears flatten in disappointment at the lackluster explanation.
"It looks like a worm, how’s it dangerous?" She presses, hazel eyes clouding with new questions.
Frostbite’s arrival catches Briarkit’s full attention, large ears upright and eyes observant, watching tentatively as he strikes at the snake, it’s tail lashing up and out of the water as a violent last attempt to live, before it falls limp.
"So we have to kill it before it kills us?" The child finally asks after a moment, eyes lifting from the body to the warrior.
Was life always so dreary? It sure seemed to.

"speech"
tags​
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