pafp MIRROR, MIRROR [ ☾ ] LONESOME KIT

[Swansong]

( ☁︎ )　 Something about Snowkit bothers him. The seclusion, the grief -- far too much for one so young. Her pelt fit for leaf-bare alone -- much like Swanpaw's own pale shades -- makes her easy to spot among the crowds. That is, if Snowkit ever were to join the crowds. It seems the kit is always apart, some invisible barrier blocking her from the other kits.

She watches them with something almost like hurt in her eyes, and Swanpaw gives a quiet sigh. Another taken by the spectre of death, living yet haunted. If the merciless stars will not comfort the child, if their clan will let her slip through the cracks, all too focused on their own grief, then he has no choice, does he? A gentle spirit, unmoored and mentorless in ShadowClan's camp, raises a quiet voice to get the kit's attention. "Oh, must be boring... All on your own..." he laments theatrically, but the emotion behind it is genuine. His voice turns more imploring as he continues, once he's got the kit's attention. "Is... there anything you'd wish to do...? A game, or..." He trails off, leaving the question open.

An idea comes to Swanpaw's mind, something to entice the little snowdrop into coming out of her shell a little bit. There's a twinkle in his eye, leaning a little closer and lowering his voice conspiratorially. "All the other kits... 'M sure they'd be jealous, you getting to play with an apprentice..." And the deputy's son, but he holds from mentioning that part. Too many expectations come with it; it makes his pelt prickle. A kit should be sufficiently swayed by the idea of an apprentice alone -- never mind that he's far from the most impressive choice of apprentice. He's got seniority, that's what matters here.

I WANNA BE HAUNTED ☁︎ I WANNA BE LOVED ! 【 11.6.23 】

• // please wait for @Snowkit.
  ​

• "SPEECH"

• ☾ 　⁺　₊ 　⋆　SWANPAW.　APPRENTICE OF SHADOWCLAN.　HE / HIM / HIS.
  7 MOONS & AGES ON THE 17TH.　PENNED BY SATURNID.
  
  

  

  ☾ — A PALE, ELEGANT CREAM TABBY WITH PERIWINKLE BLUE EYES.

  
  HALFSHADE xx SMOGMAW. LITTERMATE TO APPLEPAW GARLICPAW & ASHENPAW. OLDER SIBLING TO HALFKIT TANGLEKIT & DREAMKIT.​

​

 

[Snowlark.]

You've wasted your life, but thanks for applying​

---

Snowkit's gaze continued to wander throughout the crowd of the camp, keeping close to the walls with their paws close to her own chest, ears perked with attentive to what went around her. Yet, she had not realized the distance that her yellow gaze carried would bring forth someone, a company gone unnoticed until he spoke. Jumping slightly the kit's eyes cast onto Swanpaw, the pale tom seeming to join her with theratic words yet the emotions behind them made her blink a bit before glancing away.

Yet, Swanpaw did not leave after that but seemed to offer to do something which she shuffled her paws a bit to ponder on. Did she accept the offer given by the other when they perhaps had better things to do? Apprentices were always busy, but before she could ask anything, he placed in the fact that the other kits would be envious of her if they saw she was playing with an apprentice, and the thought of seeing the other kits having the jab of envy jabbing them made her think for a bit more.

What game could the two even play? Their stubby tail twitched a bit as she tried to think, pale yellow eyes focusing on her paws while she thought. Of course, if she played moss ball, other kits would wish to join in and take away Swanpaw's attention, and the same with badger rides, for now she just wanted others to feel jealous. She huffed a bit continuing to think.

Finally, an idea would come to her, maybe the other kits wouldn't dare try to intrude on "Are...you able to teach me some...hunting moves? I'll be an apprentice soon...So I want to get a headstart" her voice soft, almost quiet, but not enough where Swanpaw couldn't hear her. Hopefully, none other kits would dare to step over her paws to gain the attention of an apprentice and try to take that away from her.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

 

[scalejaw]

—————————————————【 she/her | menacing 】————————————————

【◈】 Observation was key when it came to seeing connections form in camp. Friendships, enemies... well, it all came with a studious eye trained upon them, right? Scalejaw had returned from a successful hunt with Flintpaw- pride was starting to bloom in her cold chest, and that was something she wasn't sure how to handle- and seeing the two fair-pelted young cats together caused her brief pause. She settled her catch on the pile, ears pricked towards the pair of them as she moved to sit nearby.

A tiny smile graced her face at Swanpaw's grace. I'll have to mention this to Smogmaw. She thought briefly, then killed that thought with each and every talon-like claw on her paws. The smile disappeared swiftly, and she opted to listen quietly to the pair of them, pretending to look elsewhere.

"yuh"

[penned by dallas].

​

 

[smogstar]

Seeing Swanpaw rekindled in his well-being offers fleeting respite, a pause in the misfortune that has wrought this clan so brazenly. Mere moons ago had he lay nestled in death's bosom, teetering towards the same fate as his mother's. The cosmos proved merciful in sparing him from witnessing his son in such a state—the fever, the ache, the ceaseless struggle to breathe and the delirium that came with—conjuring a mental image alone was enough to make him shudder. There may be yet ramifications to his affliction but those are worries for another sunrise. Here he stands, alive and in fair health, and it is enough.

Smogmaw does not share in Scalejaw's feigned indifference. Discerning eyes are guided by a subtle discretion, lips set tight as the curly apprentice engages with another. When his scrutiny shifts away from Swanpaw and onto the kit, gathering clues as to who this young one may have belonged to, he exhales a somber sigh.

Shoulders draw taut. "Yellowcough should prove similar to the Great Battle, in the long run," he mutters in the molly's trajectory. This awareness ought to be mutual between them, for they have both tasted the bitter sorrow of losing loved ones in the conflict. Like the Great Battle, the plague has severed familial bonds without a sliver of mercy. The stable grounding that Snowkit needed has crumbled under her paws, orphaned, the pieces too jagged for her to pick up. "I hope she'll benefit from mentorship." ​