camp PIED PIPER ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ bringing kits to camp

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ The specter of a molly weaves through the snow as if she was made for it, graceful paws gliding lightly across the dusting of frost. Tangled around her paws are a small pack of kittens, bristling and shivering. They tumble across the slush with no semblance of coordination - but they will learn in time. They show the mark of survivors, snapping teeth meeting Swansong's curious nose. Even now, as they nip at her ankles, she does not mind. They will make fine warriors, in time.

And without any to care for them, they need a guide. She beckons them towards ShadowClan's camp with a sweeping tail. "Come, come... There is safety here, and warmth..." Death has already taken their mother, yet it had the kindness to send its emissary to protect those whose hearts it had claimed. Swansong will keep a close eye on these kittens. Someone has to.

She speaks gently as she herds them into the entrance of camp. "Names, you will need new names... It is... custom, here." They need clan names, if they are to be accepted. And clearly they are, if she has found them - fate would not have lead her paws to the wildlings otherwise. Her murmurings seem halfway only to herself, drifting through the air. A distant gaze sweeps across the kittens as she nudges them further into camp. A crowd will gather soon; she shields the kittens with her body, crouches low to speak to them. "Do you... have names yet, little ones...?" A proper introduction is in order, after all...

I FELL ASLEEP WITH A VISION ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND I ALMOST PULLED IT THROUGH‎

• follows from this thread, bringing in @PUPKIT @ROTKIT @Silentkit @tbdkit @tbdkit -
  
  additional (optional) tag for @Ternstar. since these kits are new joiners to shc!
• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG ☾ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, 20 moons.
  ★ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ★ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ★ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[SHARPSHADOW]

Swansong looks more ghost than cat in the midst of ShadowClan's gloom. She always does, really, but it seems even more real now, with the trail of lost spirits clinging onto her tail. It was the cats beside them that typically tethered them to reality, but this: five small, shivering, bright-eyed faces... It could be a procession to StarClan, really. Though, a StarClan warrior never struggled to find prey, she's sure. The sky was always bright, a moment outside of your camp probably didn't always spell chance for demise. It's the opposite of StarClan, really. Some spiritual guide that made Swansong.

She seemed pretty sure of herself, though. She doesn't even call for anybody, doesn't say anything to anybody... She just dips her head, her words not for ShadowClan, but for the kits. All— all five of them. Good StarClan.

Sharpshadow doesn't say anything for a little bit. Just... gawks, and half-hopes Swansong would smile, say, just kidding, and reveal all five of the scraps to just be remarkably convincing replicas made of chewed up twigs. Or maybe like, four of them? One real kit wouldn't be end of the world... Of course, that's about as likely as Ternstar making it to Greenleaf.

Sharpshadow approaches ruefully, a frown heavy-set on his maw. " Uh, " He doesn't have it in him to even pretend this could possibly be anything else. " Is this... what I think it is? " He tries to look a little happier when he glances to the kits. It probably doesn't work. It's not their fault, obviously...

 

[Amberhaze]

The amount of wayward souls that had come flitting over Shadowclan's borders within the recent moons was- well, it was utterly ridiculous. Borderline annoying, in Amberhaze's eyes, the extra mouths to feed doing little in the ways of keeping the rest of the clan afloat. It was hard enough as it is presently, most nights the warriors being left with nothing more than meager scraps of tough, chewy strips of flavorless meat. Kits were burdensome even in the most fruitful of seasons, but to have so many now, in the middle of Leafbare...it made his jaw clench with the stress of it all. Thats why, upon Swansong's arrival with her ward of a whopping five... his stomach nearly heaved, his head spinning as though he had just been flung from the highest pine tree.

Sharpshadow seemed unable to voice the concerns he knew she shared with him- her attempt to remain courteous and welcoming in the face of these... blessings admirable, to some degree. Amberhaze was not so polite, the panic he felt bubbling up inside of him apparent in the creases of his grimacing face. "S-S-Swansong...Uh- Ahaha!- W-What...what is this, exactly?" He would approach with a noticeable gait, his stance rigid as he loomed over the collection of scraggly looking kittens. He glanced at Sharpshadow in an attempt to meet his eye, his own lustrous orbs shining with the unspoken words of She can't be serious...can she? He knew Ternstar well enough by now to know these accursed things wouldn't be turned away- wouldn't be cast out to fend for themselves- her heart had grown too tender after the birth of her own kits. He knew it wasn't their fault, that he shouldn't be so quick to assume the worst of their presence...but he couldn't help himself. The survival of those who actually experienced enough of what life has to offer mattered so much more to him than these who had experienced nothing beyond their own abandonment. A miniscule amount of memories where the rest of them could weave an entire tale using nothing more than the recounting of everything they had lived to see in thier lives thus far. Then again, would it be right to strip virgin minds of the same opportunities? Was it worth it to extend the same chance to them in the midst of their own undeniable suffrage? He supposed it didn't really matter, for the choice was not his to make.

☣

AMBERHAZEㅤTAGS
⚛ㅤmale (he / him) / bisexual aroace, single
⚛ㅤ20 moons old / ages semi-realistically, every 21st
⚛ㅤlead warrior of shadowclan for 0 moons
⚛ㅤnpc x npc / younger brother to wormwatcher
⚛ㅤmentoring talonpaw / mentored by wormwatcher
⚛ㅤpenned by sloane / encarcerated on discord

a short but lengthy black cat with a boney build and luminous ocher eyes
⤷ black oriental shorthair x cornish rex

​

 

[Silentkit]

Silentkit

Status: Fearful, Angry

---

He followed the ghost as she lead them somewhere. His trembling frame following as a silent shadow. Every so often a growl tumbles from his lips. He trips over hidden things in the snow. He bites at the ghost's heels in anger and fear. He will not be lead to his death willingly. For that is what he believed was happening. Why the pack was following he still didn't know. The fear had made things hazy and now here they are. Following the ghost to their doom. The ghost speaks more to them but still he does not listen. If his death is coming he'd rather not know. A surprise would be less painful.

He startles as they arrive in a place with even more ghosts. More harbingers of death. He stares wild-eyed around. So this is to be how they die? Surrounded by ghosts and lost souls. At least the pack is with him. Though he mourns their loss already. He stares blankly, unfeeling as the specter they had followed lowers to the ground before them, speaking to them once more. No word's pass his lips in response. He will not give these spirits what they want. He instead turns as a hulking beast of a shadow appears in front of them. He stares unblinking and unwavering as the beast speaks. He does not know what it says but he does not move from his position. Not even as a second shadow appears, this one much smaller.

He stares down the beast as the jittery one starts speaking. He pays this one no mind though, he firmly believes that the pack could take that one in a fight if it came down to it. The shadow beast though. That one could pose a problem. He squints in an effort to keep from blinking. He will not remove his eyes from the bigger threat. He will be ready for the moment of attack and he will fight back till his dying breath.

---

Louder The Bark ☣────☣────☣ The Bigger The Blade

• OOC:
• Silentkit - Male Black Smoke with Yellow Eyes ☣ He/Him ☣ Shadowclan Kit ☣ Penned by Snowy ☣ 4 moons
  ☣ Contact TimelordSnowy on Discord for plotting
  ☣ Sibling to TBDkit, Rotkit, TBDkit, Pupkit
  ☣ "Speech"
  ☣ Thoughts
  
  

​

​

 

[Ternstar.]

TELL YOU YOU'RE THE GREATEST
BUT ONCE YOU TURN, THEY HATE US ​

---

Ternstar ♛ 25 Moons ♛ Female ♛ She/Her ♛ Leader of Shadowclan

---

​

★★★★★★★★★

—— Ternstar will not turn them away,

Cal it kindness, or compassion - foolishness, or idiocy. Ternstar has been in their position - not a scrap of fur or flesh to call her family, hunger gnawing at her belly, an orphan if only in name and not blood.

For all that her clanmates whinge and whine, she knows - she knows this is not harshest leafbare they have survived. Their nursery does not fester with rot and sickness, kittens dying from hunger, queens with drying milk. There is no yellowcough to plague them, taking cats to starclan by the dozens. No hoards of rats leaving teeth marks and the rot of infection in their limbs; no bears raking terrible claws across the camp and snapping cats up in their jaws, leavng them cowering in the damp darkness of the tunnels. For all that leaf-bare sinks it's claws into Shadowclan, they have lived through worse. And they will live through it now - five more mouths be damned.

Still, she twitches faintly at the casualness of Swansongs approach - and at Sharpshadow's words. The deputy probably doesn't mean it that way, and yet eyes narrow. " Are they yours then? " she questions, voice deceptively neutral save for the way she draws out the word 'yours' more then she needs to. A warning, a question - if they are truly orphans or not.

She knows better then most, how easy it is to make a mistake. She, at least, had the sensibility to hide her momentary... indiscretion - she certainly hopes Swansong has not decided to parade hers around.

━ actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes' ━

---

E V E R Y B O D Y - W A N T S - T O - B E - M Y - E N E M Y

---

 

[lostpaw]

lostkit sometimes wonders what would've happened had she not been separated from her mother that fateful day. sure, she loved shadowclan and certainly held no regrets for her new family -- but her mother still had been her mother, and sometimes she watched the tender moments between the clanborn kits and their families with a twisting loneliness carving at her chest. sometimes she wished she she was clanborn like all the other kits, with a family that wasn't fractured or unknown. sometimes.

today, she peeked out of the nursery with an inquisitive twitch of her whiskers, having heard the commotion.

she's greeted with the sight of swansong. and...kits? several kits. now she's confused, because she doesn't think she's seen swansong around the nursery... or pregnant... but she could be wrong! even some of the heavily pregnant queens didn't look it sometimes, and it wasn't as if lostkit kept tabs on that. so many kits, and being brought in from outside camp, though, now that was curious.

curious enough that lostkit trots forward with a tail raised in reserved excitement. "what are their names? are they staying?" she asks eagerly, having not caught swansong's words as she walked over. she darts a glance towards ternstar, wonders vaguely at the leader's undercurrent of tension.

｡:ﾟ.°✧ PLEASE DONT LET THEM SEE ME

• ooc.

• LOSTKIT (she/her) is a five moon old shadowclan kit with shorthair cream tabby fur with low white and blue-green eyes. she is the gen1 daughter of two rogue npc's.
  
  TAGS. penned by riyue. dm me on discord (xriyue) for plots.​

​

 

[Swansong]

⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ Soon, the vultures of ShadowClan flock to the scent of death, and its shepherd meets them with a steady gaze. The council bristles at the kittens, and Swansong straightens up to meet them. She shields the kits as best she can from the judgemental gazes - for now, but they will need to learn to live with them. They are other, beasts of the wild and snowbitten swamp. "Foundlings," Swansong says decisively, her delicate voice sharper than usual. The leader's words are a test, and she answers them with a tired smile. "Please, Ternstar, have some faith. I do not... have trysts with enemies. My heart is here." It always has been. Unlike these children, Swansong was born with the curse of the marshlands in her blood.

"Though, ah... I suppose they are... mine, in a way. The scent of death clings to them, I know it well. But... StarClan led me to them, before their souls were claimed..." Fate. It cannot be anything but. "Survivors... Alone in the cold..." These kittens were called to ShadowClan; would Sharpshadow or Amberhaze have left them to die out there? ...Would Ternstar? They level the leader with a meaningful stare. "They would make fine warriors someday... And with all our losses... Shadowclan needs that," they say, speaking to the leader alone. Of course, it would be a blight upon their morality to leave the children to die... But practicality is the language of clan life, and so it is the weapon that Swansong weilds.

And then, their attention turns back to the young. One of ShadowClan's own comes with curiosity, not hostility, and the pleasantness returns to the warrior's voice. "Would you like to ask them, Lostkit...? They seem... a little shy..." An understatement, but true enough for a child. She keeps her ears swiveled towards the foundlings, awaiting reaction.

I FELL ASLEEP WITH A VISION ⋆⁺₊ ☾ ⁺₊⋆ AND I ALMOST PULLED IT THROUGH‎

• 
  
  

  "SPEECH"

• 
  SWANSONG ☾ she / they, warrior of shadowclan, 22 moons.
  ★ a pale, silky-furred cream tabby with tired blue eyes.
  ★ dreamy and detached, known for her perpetual sleepiness.
  ★ halfshade x smogstar, littermate to applejaw, garlicheart, & ashenfall.
  ★ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ★ penned by SATURNID ↛ saturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[ROTPAW]

*+:｡.｡ One kitten follows, so too must the rest of the pack. The pale one is certain it's paws weren't the ones to break line first, though. Instead, much like The Darkest, it tramples the snow with a righteous fury, determined to not go down without a snarl prime on it's youthfully pink lips. But...but...but it's also so very tired. Though it snaps at Swansong's heels, and snarls fiercely when the specter dares look it's way...there's a notable limp to it's trot. When the coast is clear and the ghost looks away, it's head immediately hangs, tongue lolling, feet dragging. It's hungry. It's sleepy. It's...it's so cold. These were not anything new to the baby, but being forced to toddle about on limbs still weak from...seeing mother for the last time well...it didn't realize just how bad everything was.
Running on fumes was the right word, and right now it's tongue tasted only of ashes and soot.

But even still, it won't go down without a fight.

Arriving at the land of the ghost, however, very nearly drains the kitten of all it's fight.

Cats, cats and more cats! So much bigger than the ghost, with eyes far fiercer. For a moment, the palest's kits paws stutter to a halt, mimicking the way it's heart has since stopped beating and it's breath ceased circulating. More cats than it had ever seen in it's entire life now crowd around it and the it's pack, mouth's moving, eyes narrowing, staring at them all like pieces of prey-

Torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits, torn to bits-

The ghost is looking at it - it's melodic voice doing nothing to ease the pounding in their ears, the gasps that tear through their teeth. The palest responds by arching it's back and fluffing out it's fur, hiss and spitting with all it's might. It hopes it looks big. It hopes it looks more scary than scared. It hopes it'll survive. It hopes it's pack will be okay. It - it wishes it could think straight it - it -

Amongst the towering shadows of teeth and eyes, one unfamiliar face stands out amongst the rest...mostly because it's small.

The pale one blinks hard - blinks repeatedly - until the writhing shadows twist a little less forcefully in focus so it can stare instead at the one animal here that it could at least somewhat conceivably take on in a fight...a thing as little as The pale one - maybe bigger, but still little, face soft with youth like the rest of the pack.

Another kit.

Breath still heaving, it looks between The ghost and the not-pack member. It's...it's never seen another kid before. It's only ever known it's pack. Although the blossoming curiosity isn't enough to cure it of it's fear and rage, The pale one finds that it simply cannot stop staring at Lostkit.

It...it kinda wants to say hello.
So it does, meowing out a gravelly, breathless, nervous, but still tinged with soot and fire - "Hi"

*+:｡.｡ Updated 1/14/25

• 
  
  GENERAL:
  ➶ Rotkit
  ➶ DMAB— it/its — Unsure
  ➶ 4 moons — Ages 1 moon every month 28th
  ➶ Shadowclan — kit
  ➶ Sibling to tbdkit, Silentkit, tbdkit, and Pupkit
  
  
  
  
  COMBAT:
  ➶Physically easy | mentally medium
  ➶ Attack in bold #d4c115
  injuries: None currently