private only as a doubtful guest ⁀➷ downykit

( ⁀➷ )  Farther and farther from home Fallow goes, from a familiar yet distant forest to a place like nothing its ever seen. Eerie, mudsoaked, stinking of rot and muck. Cats with thin forms and scowling faces, a strange camp with few that it knew from ThunderClan.

ShadowClan, this one is called. It's all just noise to her. Nonsense. Everyone just carries on as though nothing has ever happened, as though their teeth did not tear the flesh of cat, and it puts Fallow on edge. She keeps to the nursery, mostly, since she's been shunted from the medicine den. Keeps to the familiar faces, on the occasion that she leaves (it is very crowded, after all). Fallow recounts the name of the kits from ThunderClan's camp: Finchkit, Heathkit, Pink-kit...

Downykit. There. She creeps close to them, hovering at a distance, not quite looking at the other kit. Downykit, after all, is the least likely of the kits to cause it any trouble. Her voice was soft, hesitant, bereft of any of the bite the more lively kits carried. Harmless, is what it means. And willing to play mediator. Definitely the best one for Fallow to stick around, until she gets the chance to leave.
border.png

  • // @downykit
  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOW. THUNDERCLAN KIT. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCARRED, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. ADOPTED BY TANSYSHINE. ADOPTIVE SIBLING TO TIGERPAW & SHARDPAW.
 
Last edited:
Downykit doesn't like ShadowClan any more than she does ThunderClan; in fact, they may even like it less. They loathe the feeling of sticky, gummy mud in their paw-fur, and they especially don't like how crowded it is. Queens and kits jostle one another for space like the poor trees in ThunderClan territory, with shadows smothering them like blankets and pooling where bodies are blissfully not. They hate the memories. "Rogues," everyone says, giving all the dark, writhing shapes and globs of red a name. Are they going to come again in another quarter-moon? She'd just started to get used to ThunderClan...

They're alone today, bereft of Finchkit and Pink-kit and Heathkit. Perhaps they're squabbling with each other over another kit game—they hardly know and hardly have enough energy to care. Downykit has even less energy to tolerate another, baleful pair of eyes though. "Hi, Fallow." Squared-off eyes blink at it, as if they were surprised by its presence so close to them. "What are you doing?" She doesn't quite know what to say, except that she feels like she should say something to the ThunderClan kit. Or was it ShadowClan kit, because they were all ShadowClanners now? Is it so silly to sit here and just...miss WindClan? Everyone else seems to be so busy.​
 
( ⁀➷ )  Downykit notices her, before long. Blinking dumbfounded and hesitant, its presence clearly unwelcome. Fallow stills as the other kit's eyes settle on it, as though it has been caught doing something wrong. Downykit's speech is direct, barely sparing time for pleasantries before questioning her. Its response comes quick, a snap cutting through the air before the silence can sit. "What d'you care?" As though they're the one in the wrong here, and not her for sneaking around after them.

She shifts a little bit, awkwardly stepping away as her eyes dart to the side. Her claws scratch at the ground for a moment, before almost reluctantly continuing past her reflexive answer. "Not doing anything," she mumbles half-guiltily. "Not much to do anyway. Don't wanna play with the other kits." She doesn't like them. They still feel like strangers, even knowing their names. All of this is so new, happening far too fast. She feels out of step with the world around her, left behind in the sweeping chaos of the clans. There's a tiredness to Downykit's eyes that feels almost familiar, but the buzzing agitation beneath her skin refuses to let her give in to the fatigue.
border.png

  • //
  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOW. THUNDERCLAN KIT. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCRAGGLY, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. ADOPTED BY TANSYSHINE. ADOPTIVE SIBLING TO TIGERPAW & SHARDPAW.
 
The bite of Fallow's response makes their ears twitch, moving a fraction into flattening before remembering themself and how it'd look if they made that face to her. "Um, nothing," comes the response, as instinctively as a blink.

Somewhere far away, hidden deep under a swamp frond or in the hollow of a tree, mysterious creatures chirp into the afternoon. They unsettle Downykit, but not as much as they and everything else unsettle Fallow. Deep blues follow her twitchy actions, kitten-prick claws darting into the ground for a breath before slipping back into their sheaths. "Okay." They tilt their head. "I don't wanna play with everyone else either. Only right now though," she's quick to add, blinking almost guiltily to the vague shapes of the other kits in eyeshot. "That's okay," they murmur, half to themself.

Brightshine would say it's okay. She'd say it's more than okay, probably. They have to look on the Bright side. "Do you miss ThunderClan?" they suddenly ask. They miss WindClan. Fallow probably misses ThunderClan. But it didn't even know Leopardtongue, who had the faint smell of milk on her like she was a queen. How could a kit not know who a queen was?​
 
( ⁀➷ )  The twitch of Downykit's ear, the careful controlling of her expression, is lost on Fallow. Her vigilance is flawed, cracked, the instinctual fear she carries with her dulling her focus instead of sharpening it. She's made up her mind of this cat already; a non-threat, a known variable. The discomfort she causes them is disregarded. She seems to have that effect on many of the cats her age, it seems.

The admittance of not wanting to play either is a relief. For now, Fallow does not risk being dragged into a game far too crowded and far too unfamiliar; she nods in approval. The soft murmur of that's okay comes barely a breath, quieter than the singing of unfamiliar insects but it eases something in Fallow nonetheless.

The lapse in vigilance is not long, though. A mouse-brained question leaves Downykit's maw, and Fallow nearly recoils at the words. "No," she spits, with the same reflexive quickness of before, but far more hurt. "I miss home. My home. Not ThunderClan." It misses the fox burrow, surrounded by nothing but earth and familiar faces. Still, ThunderClan was more familiar at least, with its trees and brush. This place is far worse.
border.png

  • //
  • ˏˋ ° • *⁀➷ FALLOW. THUNDERCLAN KIT. SHE / HER & IT / ITS.
    2 MOONS & AGES ON THE 1ST. PENNED BY SATURNID.


    A SCRAGGLY, POINTED BROWN MOLLY WITH PATCHY WHITE SPOTTING.

    NPC xx NPC. ADOPTED BY TANSYSHINE. ADOPTIVE SIBLING TO TIGERPAW & SHARDPAW.
 
Last edited: