pafp PRETEND YOU KNOW THIS SONG -- surprise

[Moonbeam]

Weeks. Weeks was how long Shellkit had been within the confines of the medicine den, weeks since she'd first collapsed within the nursery so close to her apprentice ceremony, weeks since it was discovered that she had whitecough and even weeks then since she had been given the cure, talking of death and meeting with Snowflakekit, asking if it hurt. Days however it had been since improvement had happened, since breathing had righted itself for the best and fever was gone. Days since Shellkit could move without wheezing in pain, could eat a full meal without struggle, could have visitors without worry. Hours it had been since Moonbeam had told Lichentail that Shellkit was better, that the kin of Smokestar and adoptive daughter of both Lichentail and Hazecloud could move out and quietly a plan had formed.

"Shellkit, can I have your help outside the medicine den today? I need to test something else, make sure you're good to go." Tests had been happening, making sure breathing was fine without too much issue, that food was able to be kept down, that walking and running and whatever else a cat of her age would have to do could be done. Today would be different though, and quietly the white moggie would wait by the entrance of the den for the other to meet with her before carefully moving to the side, a paw motioning forward to make sure it was Shellkit that exit the medicine den first. After all, it was important that she did.

A STRAWBERRY AVALANCHE ꕥ CRASHED OVER ME

• --Please wait for @shellkit and @lichentail to post before posting!
• 
  MEDICINE CAT;
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ FLESH WOUNDS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ INFECTIONS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ACHES & PAINS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ ILLNESS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BREATHING ISSUES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ TRAVELING HERBS
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ BROKEN BONES
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ KITTING
  — ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ POISONS
• 
  ꕥ SH white masking cinnamon torbie w/orange eyes & small ears
  ꕥ speaks softly & often found humming
  ꕥ 12 moons old; ages the 17th every month
  ꕥ homosexual homoromantic ; interested in beepaw & redacted
  ꕥ currently mentoring none
  ꕥ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset
  ꕥ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ꕥ easy in combat unless in water, focuses on defensive tactics
  ꕥ peaceful powerplay allowed

​

 

[shellpaw]

her recovery had dripped by honey thick, a syrupy haze of feverish sickness that began to lighten with each bout of consciousness. she is no longer dazed, head no longer lolling clumsily against herb-twined moss ; strength floods the tremblings of reed sunken limbs, stuttered with the razored winds of restlessness and blessing her watching stars for the ability to long for freedom still. upon first introduction to moonbeam's dwelling ( ravensong's den, then. a friend of her mothers, hardly known to her. ), she'd thought death an unkind eventuality. a shadow looming just beyond their sedge curtain, reaping paws of soot black casting wraithlike tendrils of impending darkness that never seemed to reach her. she thought it a greedy, vile creature. predatory, the very thing that had taken a sibling from her in her earliest moons. the black dog, maw drooling with the blood of those who'd been drug into camp for the living to wail over until lavender could no longer hide the smell. bleak. inevitable. she's smelt its breath, felt it on her neck ; hot, wet, tinged with mint and sweet rot.

though through the roseladen veil of convalescence, the breath of clarity windclan's herbs had shot through a smoke - slogged chest, she sees seen only stars. riverbound constellations, heat-ridden dreams of sad eyes and whispers see swears she can hear billow on the winds over moonshone waters ; she felt it, the night moonpaw had come to her, backed in light that lit her into her namesake. forewarning. death was not unkind -- beyond the mist of the end was light, was comfort. a nest made just for her, flower - woven and ever earned. a forever full belly where hers had hollowed, a slope of fishbone and arcing ribs beneath the lilac curl of kitten coat. death was kind. moonbeams words flutter in her ear, sometimes it hurts. being sick had hurt. death was an end. she could never long for it, but there is something in the heart of her that feels.. blanketed. something like security, something woven deep into fate that promises her a life proving why the earth breathes her alight through the frost, through her illness, through death and folly.

starclan watched over her, flows through her veins like spring water and eases her to life again. not your time, they must whisper again, again, and shellkit finds consciousness again with ears open. whenever the murky river lapped a stone it had something to say and shellkit was meant to listen ; to the water, the life crawling beneath, the stars beaming their pinprick reflection against a dark, evermoving backdrop. said the river holiness, your place is closest to the stars for the lakes that cut through them, and shellkit listens. her purpose, maybe ; blood royalty, water lily sprout just beyond the bounds of their meadowlands, current - drifted into the heart of riverclan. meant to be. a dream so far away, dead like salmon sloughing their scales along the pebbled shore stirs with a vengeance, beats with a ferocity that still doesn't quite match the rapidfire wingbeat of her heart. her throat still clicks at times, her chest sure to rattle and nose still a constant, but clear drip. recovery is slow, but her recovery is sure. it is sure.

she is grateful, above anything else.. reverent.

her hum is nothing but a whisper of butterfly wing, a thrum of something fragile, thin enough to rip clean against anything that touched where she sorts a small smattering of scales and pebbles that had kept her most company through the recent days. some for her, some for the ones that kept her safe — an offering. if she could just get to the river.. movement catches strawberry sweet eyes, slitted pupils flitting towards where the alabaster she-cat stood. she offers a slow blink, noticing she was by the entrance with a flare of excitement. maybe they would go to the shore, ” okayyy, im.. coming. “ sing - song, a skip in her step if only she could when she lifts to join her. the bounties of newleaf had begun to thicken her limbs, pebblepaw adamant in bringing her prey from his outings with foxtail whenever he could — she trots towards her, then past with a dovey purr, so the medic could see just how easily she was able to move after lying so long in her nest, the beats between losing her breath grown longer and longer. so with her head high and eyes squinted in moonbeam’s way, she ventures out into the light.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
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  SHELLKIT 𓆉 SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. SIX MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS -------------------------------------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush in a way seemingly similar to hazecloud's. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  currently RECOVERING FROM GREENCOUGH ; occasionally loses her breath, nose still and forever a constant drip from prolonged illness - formed nasal polyps. no longer contagious.

​

 

[lichenstar]

✦　˚ 　✧ ˚　.˚　✦ 　✦

CLAIM THE BURIAL I SEEK IN DREAMS FLOWING RIVER CEMETARY ✧

• Impatience tells itself in the disturbed dust that wafts where a crooked tail has whisked back and forth. For as much as she bristled like an porcupine threatened when WindClan wandered past their scent borders, it was hard to deny the gift hidden in their suffering. Their desperation granted RiverClan a boon... a soft-veined herb that would bring minty relief to agonized, fiery passages. That would bolster a wilting spirit... burst the dam that had left the growth downstream to suffocate and dry up. Anticipation tickles her paws with a need for action, an uneasiness that begs for movement.
  
  Maybe that nervous electricity have just never left... energy wound tightly and waiting for its potential to release in wild explosion.
  
  A beacon of light lingers at a doorway... a signal. Discomfort wriggles beneath the surface of her skin, growing all the more anxious to be doing this, as it is a great betrayal of her own beliefs. Smokestar should be doing this... He could be... They just needed to find him.
  
  But... to endure such torture after so much delay and struggle, he couldn't possibly be angry with her for taking this matter into her own paws in his temporary absence. Would not be angry with her...
  
  A flutter of butterfly soft and timid heart grows more fervent in its dance, grown more agonizing as she came to rest upon the perch that still smelled of him. Shellkit parts the flimsy reeds that flitter against her rib-thin sides as if in final caress and blessing for her health. A final, hopefully long-term, departure from the heavy smell of ground poultices and fever dreams.
  
  "RiverClan, gather," she calls, beckoning them to gather, quickly, and witness.
  
  "We celebrate... the recovery of Shellkit today... who has finally... healed from her sickness.... She... is overdue for her... reward-"
  
  "Shellkit... has surpassed her... sixth moon. It is time... for her to be apprenticed."
  
  The words, though so familiar they come without much strangled grasping, feel foreign to be at her tongue's tip. The chokehold that says 'imposter' branded so plainly to her as if they were marked there in scars. She is not... Smokestar. A pair of shifting reed eyes stare at her as a firm reminder that this was fine... Things would be fine.
  
  Summer blues search then for sepia twins, feeling the divide that keeps them on opposite sides of a canyon and desperately reaching to mend the wildly swinging, fractured bridge. "From this day on... until you receive your... warrior name-" Would that be something Lichentail would have to consider? To fuss and ponder over if Smokestar never came back, if he wasn't found? She'd agonized over the names of her kits for moons... this would be a unique ripping of claws from her paws.
  
  "You will be known as.... Shellpaw."
  
  The corners of her lips upturn slightly, a conscious effort despite the trickling pain that runs down her spine. "And... if you'll have me.... I'll be your mentor... And pass down... everything I know."
• about
  speech hex code ✧ #6368A5
  ooc notes ✦
  tagging ✶
  penned by tieirlys
• 
  
  ˚　　★⋆. ࿐࿔　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 .
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　 　　　　 ੈ✧˳·˖✶ ✦　　˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚ ★⋆. ࿐࿔
  　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦　　​

​

 

[FOXTAIL]

Shellkit was confined to the medicine cat den for far too long. Foxtail understood why— she was extremely ill, and she was in no condition to begin her warrior training. He remembers how much his heart ached for her when she wasn't apprenticed alongside her brothers, and as excited as his apprentice had been, there was a piece missing. And with every patrol he and Pebblepaw go on, that piece is missing there too. He admires how much Pebblepaw cares for his littermates, as it reminds him of his own littermates. Littermates look out for each other. They care for one another, and have a unique bond no cat can possibly break. Foxtail was grooming his fur when the call from Lichentail reached his ears, getting ready for the day. He stops mid-lick, and pads over to the mini crowd, sitting alongside his apprentice.

His olive green eyes shine as his gaze catches Shellkit padding over Lichentail and Moonbeam; she's finally out of the medicine cat den! Her voice sounds so much more lively, and her steps appear to be strong; she isn't the same cat that was confined to a nest in the medicine cat den. She must've recovered from her illness! He thinks happily for Shellkit, and looks over at their deputy as she takes a step forward to address the clan. She confirms his thoughts, and he wonders how excited Shellkit must be for what's coming next— something she must've been long awaiting for.

"From this day on... you will be known as Shellpaw." The young warrior smiles, and glances over at Pebblepaw— his sister will train alongside him and Riverpaw now! He is certain Shellpaw will gladly accept Lichentail as her mentor; it'd be quite the honor be trained by the clan deputy! He knows that she is a good choice as well— did Smokestar pick her to be Shellpaw's mentor? His heart aches at the thought... they'll find Smokestar soon enough. He will be the cat to give his niece and nephew's their warrior names! But he shoves this thought of.... worry to the back of his mind as he cheers, "Shellpaw! Shellpaw!"​

𝐨𝐨𝐜 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

• apprentice tag: @PEBBLEPAW
  
• 
  
  

  ---

  credit to skaicraft (via insta) for the artwork <3
  
• Foxtail

  ​
  

  warrior
  warmhearted
  timid
  experience: trained
  backstory: [HYPERLINK]
  biography: [HYPERLINK]
  credit to clangen for sprite <3
  

  cisgender male [he / him]
  eyes: green
  pelt: cinnamon/chocolate
  fur length: long
  parents: dawnflower and redfur (riverclan npcs)
  19 moons

  ---

  ​

​

 

[hazecloud]

—————————————————————⊰✿⊱————————————————————
Quietly, Hazecloud had tried to subtly round up her kittens. She didn't want to tip off on the surprise Lichentail had concocted for their older sister, which had proven to be more difficult than she imagined! So attached to their games or, in the case of Horizonkit, their Clanmate-watching. She knew they wouldn't want to miss it, though, and Shellkit especially deserved to hear her name shouted by her younger siblings.

"Just sit here, wait with me." She leaned down to whisper as she saw a lilac-dipped paws approach the maw of the medicine den, a twisting reminder of the vacancy where Ravensong's nest lay. Shellkit's approach brought the scent of herbs and reeds, and her heart paced rapidly once Lichentail gave the call for their Clan to gather.

A gentle nudge to her kits encouraged them to follow and stood proudly as her mate spoke to Shellkit's persistence and strength. Shellpaw, she was officially titled, and no other than the deputy would be training her.

"Shellpaw! Shellpaw! Shellpaw!" The queen chanted. Now they only needed Smokestar's return, and RiverClans balance would return.

✿ ———— I'll be your regular mama ✿ ————— And I'll put that gun away

•  
• 
  
  
  Hazecloud
  —⊰⋅ Queen of RiverClan
  —⊰⋅ She/Her
  "SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  —⊰⋅ LH blue smoke with green eyes.
  

​

 

[EVENINGPAW]

Even in her newfound melancholy, Eveningkit can recognize when something is afoot. Hazecloud had been paying particular attention to wherever the trio was going - it's not that she normally didn't keep an eye out, but her gaze had felt particularly heavy today. She could have asked, but something told her Hazecloud wouldn't give a satisfactory answer... so the only move Eveningkit had was waiting.

The art of patience is not her forte. She stays in one place when Hazecloud gathers them up and tells them to do so, but tiny paws feel the need to shift her body's weight to and fro in anticipation.

It all tips over. "What is it?"

And her answer; RiverClan, gather.

Eveningkit's lashes flutter as she blinks too many times to count, switching her gaze from Lichentail to the depths of the medicine cat's den. In kitten-like innocence, her heart picks up pace and asks her- what if they know? Had she been too obvious in her stares at Moonpa- Moonbeam? Surely not. And surely Lichentail wouldn't announce that to the entire Clan?

But then Shellkit emerges, so much healthier than in recent past, and in one fell swoop, the puzzles pieces finally come together. "Oh. Oh!" A wide grin finally breaks the monotony of Eveningkit's face, peering up at Hazecloud first before Shellkit takes all her attention. Now the waiting made sense. It bears fruit, even, rewarding her with excitement and relief, but one would be right to doubt this remains as a lesson learned.

"Shellpaw! Shellpaw!" Her voice rings loud, trying to make up for all the missed weeks. She should have called her sister's name alongside their brothers. The ivory-streaked ball of sickness should have been there, should have gotten her new name and mentor with her family. But... better late than never.
​

 

[HORIZONPAW [transferred]]

"Just sit here, wait with me." Horizonkit reluctantly shuffles out behind the feather-tailed reeds, the long tendril-y shadows of which would've been a good hiding place had he just been given time to acclimate to it. Hazecloud seems to have other plans, though. Eveningkit must have gotten all her planning, all those ideas ricocheting around in her head like a thousand little fishes flapping on the ground, from Hazecloud.

"Why?" The question, too quiet, goes unanswered. The silvery tomkit hunches morosely besides his similarly-colored sisters, three sardines in a furry can, and silently seeks an answer from the world rather than its inhabitants.

Lichentail is here. They all still reside within the confines of the sedge, safe from the wilder going-ons of the real RiverClan. He knows this place, more than the other denizens of the nursery, but even Shellkit's siblings are not allowed much in Moonbeam's den. Her den smells of fish spines and sedge blades, so sharp against his nose as though the air itself had solidified and brushed him. Horizonkit wouldn't mind not being able to explore if Shellkit didn't live there.

Sick, they call her, like she's transformed into something different, something worse. Invitations to play are sent back with half-lidded eyes and a dazed stare, followed by hushed scolding from adults. The creature he tries to huddle with is not Shellkit but a skeleton wearing Shellkit's fur, her whispers in his ear no longer charged with excitement but rasped and strained, as though trying to match all the strength of Horizon's yell with none of the noise.

He misses her.

A paw steps out of the sedge. Then another, and another, and another, all swathed in lilac and brimming with song. Mossy eyes widen. "Hi, Shellkit," he whispers in the space of Lichentail's words, as Eveningkit exclaims besides him. Realization is not a gentle dawn, but a flood. The deputy, alone in the sedge and not in the willows, rolls through the monumentous words. He itches for its climax.

Horizonkit's cheers meld smoothly into the rest, almost indistinguishable save for the pitch in volume. "Shellpaw! Shellpaw!" he yelps, hopping to his feet. She would be able to play now, right? He barely cares that their mother is her mentor; he has barely registered that one day he must stand for the same ceremony as well. He's just glad she's better. She's back!

riverclan kit | "speech." | tags​

​

 

[shellpaw]

not long after the curtains of sedge part and sun's blare dim does she see them ; ascending the river rock just ahead. but a mourning bird image of her uncle in his absence, diluted from his shadowed pelt like night melding into early morning. she takes his voice, calls riverclan, gather. through trembling birdcall -- they stop and listen through her warble, disperse, swarm like dragonflies towards the great rock with a rumble of surprise coming to hover amongst them. a beat of iridescent wings, a heart a nymph grown aflutter to join ; she casts a wild glance towards moonbeam, astonishment clear beneath the rheumy film still lingering over strawberry blushed eyes. her name falls from grief embittered maw, misery dripping from her mother's pearlescent fangs but she says her name still like a prayer, lily ribboned and tender all the same.

her reward, they say. surpassed her sixth moon, they say. to be apprenticed.

realization dawns like flame over the horizon, all - encompassing and too warm beneath her pelt. all that weaves and sifts through the child's mind is wonder, is the excited tentativeness that has her fur spiking in gentle curls along her still - gaunt spine. apprenticed, lilac - capped paws bring her closer through a crowd that shifts to let her pass, plume flushed tail hovering low over the ground in mimic bashfulness ; she follows the sound of her voice through eyes seeing only the days ahead, her time under the sun, sweetened familiarity that pulls upon her stone face. soft are the pawsteps that drift her closer to this salvation, safe in the haven of lichentail's voice as it calls her close, draws her downstream with each pull of her heaving, flowering lungs. the loss they'd shared dims just slightly ; sunshine upon a funeral, the glint of gravestone blinding her to the anguish for her moment in it's golden light.

a peeping hi, shellkit lulls her gaze aside briefly, splinters her baited breath daze through heavy hooded eyes towards where hazecloud settles with her siblings, where horizonkit beams at her from eveningkit's side. her ears flit back shyly, blinking slow in giddy hello just as lichentail says until her warrior name, she would be known as shellpaw. and her heart overflows like sprigs of spring water. shellpaw. flowering dirt beneath the glow of daylight, overgrown with thistle and hyssop that vine through the spokes of her ribcage, ” shellpaw. “ phantom echo, lost in reverence and the bladed edge of anticipation. shellpaw. she wants to pause, lament it's meaning to the sky above but they watch her ; she knows it. life weaves it way into her name, etches survival into its definition -- to overlast, to overcome. until the day she became a warrior, she would be known as shellpaw, broken - winged fledgling no more.

wonders never cease, butterfly beat heart ticking upward when lichentail continues ; her breath leaves her stuttering, head tipping upwards for the moment she descends from her haven to touch noses. if she'll have her, ” of course, yes. yes, “ the gentle pink of her bottom lip trembles, warbles beneath long, quivering whiskers. fat, pearlescent tears well at the corners of blushing eyes and she blinks them away, prays the tracks do not soak her ivory, striped features ; the day had come after sunrise after sunrise of waiting. her rheumy gaze flits to moonbeam ( her saviour, her lifeblood ; a breath of air through inflamed lungs ), to her family, to foxtail who cheers loud at the sidelines and warms her heart like a bursting star. her name surrounds her, cacophony of glory and promise, ” thank you. “ for waiting.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

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  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

​