private maybe one day we'll get better /✸/ family confrontation

[✧ Sootspritespark.]

✸​✸ I KNOW THAT I'VE GOT A BIG EGO ✸✸​

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sootspritespark & 39 moons & demi-girl & she/they & skyclan queen​

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Their departure is sudden - shock and terror mixing headily with fury as rogues flood the camp. There is no time to think, no time to do anything but fight and flee. It's a miracle they make it out all she thinks, curls bouncing as her tail lashes. She can't even go home - oh, how her twolegs must be fretting, calling for her with pained howls. She can only hope things will be sorted soon, lest she be stuck indoors for weeks once more.

Shadowclans hostility upon their arrival irks her - already poor mood only souring further as she watches the cats around her swap tongue lashings and bitter insults. Inevitably, the black-furred leader gives in, and sootspritespark shuffles her children forwards without hesitation - she does not care that Skyclan has labeled them apprentices, if there was any time to stick together as a family it'd be now.

The burnt sycamore is underwhelming, a nauseating cloud of scents and faces milling about as leaders and deputies alike bark out orders. It's in the midst of this disorganized mess that it happens - short frame slamming into another as she moves, not watching where she's going and instead looking back to make sure her children are following. "Oh - excuse me," she's speaking before she even turns her head, not catching the familiar tang of windclan until it's too late. Sunshine eyes blink at the figure before her, unrecognizing - only knowing that this is an enemy, a cat from the same clan who'd attacked skyclan just before she'd had her kitting.

Frown crosses her features, but she does not say anything further - waiting expectantly, as though it is obvious that he is the one who needs to move from her way, and not the other way around.

— really don't know why its such a big deal though ✸

• Actions && "Speech," && ' Thoughts/Quotes '
  
  ooc: pinging everyone because it's open to any of ya'll to have them react to fox and sootsprites interaction <3
  @FOXGLARE @HOUNDTHISTLE @LITTLEPAW! @FENNELKIT
  tw/cw: —
  
• 
  — a small and notably round molly with ink black curls and a white-speckled belly. she wears a bowtie collar with a bright white and lemon yellow plaid pattern, and always seems to be smiling. beyond the normal clan-scent, she smells heavily of milk-scent, dog, and twoleg.
  
  — physically medium && mentally hard
  — non-violent powerplay allowed && healing powerplay allowed && minor injury powerplay not-allowed
  — please attack using [b][color=#ffff99]action here[/color][/b] and tag account

 

[FENNELKIT]

step. step. since. step. his limb is tucked frail beneath where his belly still hangs low with kit fat. that’s what he is still, wasn’t it? unlike his brother, he is still a -kit, wobbling and soft - coated despite the touch of rot seeming to permeate from him since birth. his leg, they say. his fawn coat is muted, spattered at the paws with muck and mud. fennelkit thinks of the animal he seen on the venture over, where the ground turned black and hard, smelling strong of ash and something harsh — something he could not breathe without pain seeping up his nostrils, stringing into the backs of his eyes. at least, he supposes it had to have been an animal, at one time. red and yellow mush, stamped down hard on the dark stone, jutting awkward with bone from a ruddy mass. he’d blinked.

it was like their freshkill pile, like the bird and squirrel splayed open beneath his mothers teaching teeth. all beat up, he thought, tampering down the ache in his back as sootspritespark ushered him along. would the rogues do that to them, if they had a chance?

” mama. “ the creak of his voice is lilting, sickly sweet for the expression on his features, ” will the rogues.. find us here? too? “ here, too? riverclan had been an unwelcome surprise ( fennelkit did not like their fishy smell, their glossy fur. ), run from their homes. now, they were run from their home. how many homes were left? what if they ran out? the child’s mind is whorling when his mother comes to a stop before him, causing him to slip around her hind limb and face — a cat. large, big cat. the child says nothing, now.

instead, he fixes the stranger with his large, round eyes — bloodcrusted gaze, a pink tongue coming out to swipe against a forth - sitting fang.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ঌ  SPEAKING 𓁹 AESTHETICS ໒꒱ ´ˎ˗

• i.
  
• ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡
  ﾟ。 FENNELKIT −−−−−
  　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ⠀⠀stuck losing my teeth.
  he / they. unusually built fawn curled tom with wide amber eyes strings unravel ; marionetted boy, all off - centered smiles and heavy, twitching eyes. downy, dove - colored, color tauntingly similar to the rustling overgrowth of tall grass rippling lazily through the moors where his true father lies. each cream brown strand curls sleek and loose, falling wispy around deceivingly cherubic cheeks. unsettlingly wide eyes settle into a rusted amber, curtained gentle by baby pink lids heavy with cream - licked fur. towering, tufted ears settle neatly atop the curve of his skull, bunny nose framed by long, curling whiskers and a maw settles forever into a jagged line, a single forth - sitting fang jutting stark against pale lips. puppeteered child, from kithood his gait will be jutting and hare - like, condition borne from his lack of tail and awkwardly settled hips.
  
  ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑ four moons, sootspritespark xx houndthistle & mason. smells like raw meat & playdough.
  ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑ manx syndrome, lives with chronic pain. rolls by post for severity.
  
  penned by antlers​
  
  
• 
  
  
  
• "speech"

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[FOXGLARE]

⁀➷ The muck and grime of the swamp brought Foxglare's mood low, the ache of his injuries—as superficial as they were—combined with the humiliating knowledge that an entitled bunch of greedy rogues was the cause of them had him riddled with frustration. Not only that, but the stench of the Carrionplace invoked memories of freezing cold nights beneath the metal bins of carrion in the Twolegplace, he could nearly feel the oil-slicked stone beneath his paws now. He decided he would keep his head low while they slept in this swamp, Foxglare had no patience for attempting to navigate the minefields of socializing with the masses of strangers he was forced into proximity with. His mind was elsewhere as he wandered toward an emptier clearing away from the drone of voices, and it would be there that he would collide with a small cat.

"Oh. Pardon..." he muttered on instinct, shaking his head at his own lack of self-awareness. The scent hit his nose first, pine mixed with the unmistakably cloying smell of twolegs, a kittypet. His gaze narrowed down to meet Sootspritespark's expectant eyes with a scoff, but trailed to see the kitten at her heels, stumpy-tailed and amber-eyed. It was then that he was assaulted with Hound's confession, spoken wistfully on that evening upon the moor, '...she had these... pretty yella eyes, as bright as daffodils in the summer... an' curly black fur that was...' This was... "You..."

He couldn't believe it, this was the she-cat that Hound had been smitten with? This was the one that may have fucked them all over? All Foxglare could see was red. For a moment, he would let go of his self-control. A paw flashed out, aiming a strong smack across the small she-cat's muzzle with little regard for whether it made contact. "You foolish woman!" his face contorted into a snarl as he stared at her longer, stomach twisting. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!" He couldn't stand to look at that kitten again, keeping his eyes trained on his mother. He thought of the threats made at Houndthistle, and of the phantom of a cat that knew. Her vicious pink gaze that he avoided, knowing that she could very well be on the hunt for the kitten and his siblings at this very moment. And he thought of Sootstar, of her reputation, and of her slips into rage he witnessed with his own eyes, of her rejection of their ancestors.

"Are ya happy? Now that you've screwed us over?"

ALL IN ALL ⁀➷☾⁺₊ IS ALL WE ARE

• OOC:
• 
• 
  — sun . fox . foxpaw . foxglare
  — he/him. 11mo moor-runner of windclan
  — bisexual ; single
  — a large, scarred, longhaired light ginger tabby with high white and grey eyes
  — smells like wet oak wood and dewy sedge
  — sounds like leon kennedy, with a vague texan drawl.
  — the straight-faced and taciturn adopted son of houndthistle, lived as a twolegplace loner until 7 moons old, now a moor-runner of windclan. stalwart and resilient, he is not easily shaken and lives by a very strict personal code of honor.
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — hs by mercurial, fullbody by antiigone
  — penned by eezy

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