pafp ONCE AGAIN — intro

[Thriftfeather]

It isn’t until they pass through a gorse-lined tunnel that Thrift begins to stir as if he was just coming awake. The ground meets him, soft, sun-warmed sand, or Thrift is dropped from the height he had been carried. The impact is careless but still soft; impossibly, Thrift stumbles but doesn’t fall. There is so much to take in. Too much, it passes Thrift by in an uncomprehended blur. The world has stopped making sense in such a short amount of time.

Thrift crouches where he had been dropped, peers at the red-eyed face above him, and doesn't understand.

A white paw, his own, he realizes, touches the tip of one of his ears and comes back bloodied. He remembers feeling the cut, snagged by a gorse thorn, and trying to muffle the cry his body had instinctively wanted to make. It had happened when —

Thrift looks back up, heart thump-thump-thumping, and tries to understand. His cut ear doesn't stop twitching at irregular intervals, his breath catches speed. Above it all, Thrift just tried to understand.

//please wait for @ghostwail​

LONER ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 2 MOONS​

 

[GHOSTWAIL]

The walk back is different. Hindered by an involuntary prize - burdened by duty thrust upon her by fate and fate alone - she trundles along, the thing swinging gently from her jaws. It curls helplessly, lifelessly against her chin, its little tail occasionally flicking against her chest. It is alive, for now. Alive enough to be a semblance of a prize, a wisp of a good samaritan's act. She is the saviour, she is a do-gooder, protecting a creature from the horrors of the outside world.

It twitches.

She drops the thing, eyes a-blaze with a sort of satiated hunger - a champion's glow, a dog's eager excitement as it waits for its master's praise. She waits now, silent as a fading memory, for her master to appear to deem the thing suitable. To deem her catch worthy of sacrament, acceptance. If it is not to Her standards... well, surely she could find some alternative use for the morsel.

Ahem. The child.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

The calico has been spending more time within the gorse walls of the camp, despite Sootstar’s releasing of the clan from their lockdown. Even for such a short period, her time spent out of the tunnels has made her more comfortable lying around in the open, especially when there are clanmates around her. Today’s lazing about is interrupted, however, by the appearance of a pale, pale warrior with a bundle of fur clutched in her jaws that is definitely not prey.

The scent of strangeness and a touch of blood-iron brings Scorchstreak to stand before Ghostwail, blazing eyes looking over both the pale warrior and the scrap of fur that she’s brought into camp. Something in her chest tightens at the sight—that’s not a kit she’s spotted in WindClan before. "Where did you find it?" She asks the other warrior, golden eyes narrowing as she sniffs at the yellow-furred kit. No matter where Ghostwail found the child, though, she supposes it’s fair game for WindClan. Does finders keepers apply to kits, she wonders?

She can’t recall any other time that a clanmate has brought back a random lone kitten from outside the walls of camp, so Scorchstreak isn’t certain of what to do in such a situation. "You should probably take it to Vulturemask. Or Sootstar." The leader will know best what’s to be done with the kit, and the healer will likely be needed to help with the kit’s ear, or whatever other injuries that aren’t immediately apparent.
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[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[TIGERFROST]

TIGERFROST ♂

0/9

WINDCLAN / LEAD WARRIOR
BIOGRAPHY AND TAGS
PLAYED BY SHEOGORATH

HEALTH: ████████████████████​

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The scent of blood washes over camp, and Tigerfrost shifts his gaze toward the scene, initially alarmed. He had only just returned from a border patrol, was washing the dust from his fur, and now he had to deal with a wounded clan-mate? If it was another rogue, he'd... ah, but no. Ghostwail had something in her jaws, a young kit with a sliced ear. The child is dropped to the ground, and the dusty tabby hops to his paws to investigate, stepping toward the scene with nostrils flaring. The kitten doesn't smell of any other clan. Had he been abandoned? If so, he was lucky to have been found by a WindClan cat, instead of a hawk.

"I will fetch Vulturemask." Tigerfrost offers with a curl of his tail. He was curious for more information, but the bleeding ear should be looked at before infection has a chance to set in. The dark tom turns away, and heads toward the medicine cat's den to fetch WindClan's healer.

@VULTUREMASK ​

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[Thriftfeather]

Words pass by Thrift without meaning. Names, unidentifiable in their strangeness, are passed between the older cats as they arrive. Thrift ducks closer to the sand, lays so that the whole of him is flat as a startled rabbit. He backs away in an awkward scramble, a lizard crawl in reverse, until he is tucked between the strange cat who'd brought him here's legs. As terrible as she is, as much as she confuses Thrift, she is far more familiar than the countless cats who have come to talk around him.

"I want my ma," It's a simple and impossible want. His voice is small — instinct quiets him while he's so deep in danger, but it doesn't silence him completely. Thrift doesn't emerge from his living cave when he next speaks, "Can I... can I want to go home?"​

LONER ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 2 MOONS​

 

[Periwinklebreeze.]

STEADY THE RIGHTS AND THE WRONGS
periwinklepaw | 09 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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The last thing Periwinklepaw expects is yet another orphan brought into windclan. Why he doesn't expect this, he's not sure though, since it seems to happen rather frequently. Drawn over by tigerfrost's appearance as he seeks out the boys denmate, clear blue gaze widens as he sees what all the fuss is about. Choosing to ignore the adults present and focus instead on the ball of golden fur, the boy lowers himself down into a crouch so that he's on the kittens level, tired eyes still swollen from a restless night before even as he gives a gentle smile, warm and kind. "Hello th-there, do you h-have a name k-k-kiddo?" he says, his soft voice lilting a bit with each stammer. His gaze flits about the small frame, noting the injury upon his ear, though he's careful to keep a good distance so he doesn't scare the other offer. "I d-don't know much about y-your ma, but y-you're safe here," it's all he can offer - he's fairly certain his clanmates wouldn't kidnap a kit unnecessarily... probably... maybe? and so he doesn't want to get the newcomers hopes up.
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[Juniperpaw]

It's not everyday that a warrior returns to camp with a living creature; most usually bring home fresh-kill, not prey that still draws breath. Not kittens. Juniperkit is immediately intrigued by the sudden appearance of Ghostwail and her prize. He had been playing with some beetles nearby and now trots over to inspect the new arrival with glittering eyes. The blue ticked tabby follows close behind his friend Peri. He always hears about cats from places other than Windclan, but he a small part of him never thought the stories were true. Gorse walls and tunnels are the only world he has ever known. "You can meet my Mama," Juniperkit offers kindly. "She's the best." It's true. The best mom he's ever known. The only mom he's ever known. "I'm Juniperkit!" That's when he notices the wound on the new kit's ear. "You're bleeding," he observes. A concerned frown cuts across his expression. Juniperkit moves to creep closer but hesitates--he wants to help but he's not quite sure how.​

 

[HOLLYPAW---]

☽༺♰༻☾​

a kitten is placed into camp, whiny and bloody. hollykit screws up her nose at the sharp scent. he wasn't a windclanner. so why was he here? juniperkit approaches, offering kindness, offering their mama to the child. her head turns sharply, fixing him with a scorching glare. she wasn't going to share spiderbloom. besides, if her mother wanted more kits she simply would have had more. taking a place beside her brother, green eyes narrow in on the hiding kit. "stop bleeding. it stinks," she huffs, white tipped tail flicking sharply over her paws. "i'm hollykit," the girl rather begrudgingly adds, chin tilted slightly upwards.

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[VULTUREMASK]

It hadn't been long ago since Badgermoon had brought in a kit and now it was Ghostwail's turn. Where on earth did they even find all of these 'lost' kits?. Vulturemask would frown as he appeared outside from his sacred place after Tigerfrost had come to get him. The medicine cat would make his way over past all of them until the kit come into his view and there he would stop right in front of them to stare them down with his dreadful gaze. A bleeding ear which probably had been cut by a thorn or some other sharp object by the looks of it. " They will survive." he concluded in case anyone cared. It didn't took long before he turned around again. " Periwinklepaw help me bring the kit to my den." That way he could treat the kits ear and take a more proper look. He asked Periwinklepaw to come with him because they where good with kits and could amuse them with all of their annoying questions while making them feel comfortable and safe so he could focus on his job of treating them.

He then started to head back to where he had come from leaving the rest to the lead warriors to take care of this matter and report this to Sootstar as well to get answers from Ghostwail on why she had brought a kit to their camp for. None of that he was interested in.

// forgive me for the wait <33




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[Thriftfeather]

It’s more cats than Thrift has ever seen in his life. He cannot force himself lower than he is, all he can do is shake with uncertain tension as yet another cat arrives to— talk to him?

None of the others have talked to him. Thrift’s ears swivel forward, surprised but not soothed, as not only the first cat, but two kittens appear to ask Thrift about his name. A spike of something ill-feeling, a hot mistrust that Thrift has never before felt, shakes through him for just long enough to make him hesitate. Thrift has never paused before giving his name before. His ma taught him right, when someone asked for his name, Thrift was supposed to give it.

“I’m Thrift,” He says quietly, more focused on the other two kits. Hollykit and Juniperkit are strange names — it must be a family thing. Thrift doesn’t have any siblings of his own, but he has known siblings before.

The cat that looks at Thrift’s ear is just another face until they say something about survive, and then Thrift’s head is canted upwards. Their face is long and scarred; they do not speak to Thrift. He realizes acknowledgement is a luxury here, or at the very least not the norm, if only younger cats are going to speak to Thrift directly.​

LONER ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 2 MOONS​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

Not long after Vulturemask’s appearance Sootstar arrives as well. A kit of golden fur had been brought into their camp by Ghostwail, she looks at the white warrior curious as to where she had gotten him from. Given she was a former rogue Sootstar can’t help but wonder if she had stolen the kit for the clan, Sootstar wasn’t sure she’d question it. With ShadowClan, RiverClan, and SkyClan being constant threats they could use all the future warriors they could get. I’m Thrift. The kit says to the other young cats who had swarmed him. ”This kit isn’t a kitty pet?” She inquires hopefully.

 

[Littlepaw]

"This kit isn't a kittypet!?" Mimicking Sootstar's words but not her tone, Littlekit wandered over after his siblings to get a look at the golden scrap of fur the ghostly she-cat had deposited upon their camp as though bringing in prey. His blue eyes narrowed, squinting at the disheveled speck of a cat almost as small as he was and when he hears their name he sings it in a loud cry, "Thrift~? Where is...what happened to the rest of your name? Did you lose it?"
Idiot. Who lost their name like that? All kits had names that ended in kit. It was part of their identity. Had they shed it to try and become a -paw faster or were they just clumsy and foolish and left it laying somewhere to be trampled upon. How, even, had they removed it? He wondered and couldn't figure it out, not that he ever would. His mother wouldn't like him to lose that and he didn't think Sootstar would find it as funny as he might either.

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[GHOSTWAIL]

"Not a kitty-pet." Ghostwail echoes in an affirmative monotone. The child covers beneath her, a pathetic excuse of a prize for her clan, but it still garners attention. Her clanmates are drawn to it, moths to its golden-flame pelt. It has a name, according to its own pitiful mewl. She had not bothered with introductions when she had snapped it up, but its name bears little consequence. It is not here to be a face, a being. It is a sacrifice at the slightest bat of an eyelash and a soldier at the flutter of an ear.

"Abandoned by a reckless mother, I have gathered, I found it under a bush - left to fend for itself. I think it would be a sound investment. It will make for a fine moor-runner, large enough to take on any fish-fat-fed RiverClanner once it has grown - just look at the size of its paws." The ghastly she-cat lifts one skeletal foot, as if to accentuate her point, her face settling back into her unnerving owl-like stare, blazing eyes focused solely on her queen.​

- you call for peace when it suits you​

 

[SOOTSTAR]

SOOTSTAR ♀​

The sound of small paws thump against the ground, Sootstar merely glances at Littlekit as her question is mimicked. It wasn’t a shock to see them swarm the scene, it wasn’t every day a WindClan warrior brought a cat home to camp. She turns and looks at Ghostwail, following a white paw as she motions to the kit. Another moor runner… we need tunnelers. But ultimately the pale she-cat was right, if Thrift could be a loyal cat of WindClan then he would do wonderfully as a moor runner. She nods, ”Very well.” and looks to the kitten. His name must be in homage to the tall, pink flowers that she’s viewed here and there across WindClan. His name was fitting for a moor cat as is, they would need no hefty change. Her gaze softly settles upon a child, ”We will have a naming ceremony. Come.” She flicks her tail and ascends the Tall Rock. Her voice bellows into the air and the clan gathers at her paws. ”A kit has been found by Ghostwail, its mother has abandoned it. The only thing left to do is to care for it ourselves. From this moment forward the child will now be known as Thriftkit. Though not born onto the moors, he is just as much of a WindClan cat as any of us now.” Though her clan is tight knit and lacks acceptance of outsiders, she doubts disapproval of this choice.

 

[SCORCHSTREAK]

Scorchstreak, similarly to her leader, is a bit disappointed in Ghostwail’s assessment of the kit’s size. Large paws, large size. He will be a moor runner instead of a tunneler. But he will be a WindClanner. Not born, but raised, to be an apprentice and then a warrior, likely alongside Spiderbloom’s kits. And, the calico thinks, perhaps alongside her own kits. She listens to Sootstar as the blue she-cat moves to address the clan in its entirety.

Thrift, as the kit has called himself, will be Thriftkit. He is officially a member of WindClan now, whether he likes it or not. "Welcome to WindClan, Thriftkit," the lead warrior says, smiling politely down at the child. I hope you will remain loyal to the clan that has taken you in.
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[ LIKE A RATTLESNAKE ]​

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[Periwinklebreeze.]

❀​❀ I NEED YOU HERE 'CAUSE I'M A MESS ❀❀​
periwinklepaw | 10 months | demi-boy | he/they | physically easy (pacifist) | mentally easy | attack in bold #ccccff

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Peri is quick to freeze up when sootstar arries - shoulders hunching for a moment even though he knows he is not the focus of this conversation. Old habits die hard however. He waits patiently through the rest of the exchange before finally letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and gently nudging thriftkit towards the medicine den "c-come on kiddo, t-t-time to g-g-g-get that ear f-fixed," he says softly but forcefully. He trusts vulturemask and isn't going to let the newcomer get out of getting all fixed up - and really, the sooner he gets away form this mess the better.

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[VULTUREMASK]

Vulturemask had been about to lead the kit away along with Periwinklepaw however he suddenly halted when the leader herself stept forward to direct the kit. The medicine cat stopt, his attention drifting over his shoulder to watch. Sootstar had made her decision. The queen of the moors had spoken and the kit would get brought into the clan to become one of their own. She was quick to make the announcement known to them all. Vulturemask twitched his whiskers wishing he could at least have attended to the kits wounds first to make sure they really were okay. But he said nothing knowing he had no real place to voice his opinion to begin with. Vulturemask turned his back on the crowd as he walked himself over to his den and stopped outside to stand there during the announcement, and once it was over he retreated back inside. They knew where to look for him if he was needed. He had no interest to repeat himself twice.


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