- Dec 31, 2022
- 158
- 46
- 28
.°☀ AND IF IT EVER STARTS TO FEEL BAD, LITTLE FANG
Even though they've left the nursery now, Sunflowerpaw cannot stop thinking of Whitekit.
They never spent much time together, as denmates; Whitekit's age put her in the peripheries of the older kit's vision. By the time the albino child was leaving the nursery, Sunflowerpaw was already being apprenticed. Such is the pace of WindClan. Yet the time they did spend together, Sunflowerpaw had enjoyed. They have always been drawn to the quieter types -- and there is something about Whitekit too, that inspires a tentative sense of kinship.
Greyhawk's treatment of her only daughter -- as a burden, as something to push away and scorn -- reminds Sunflowerpaw of what they've been told of their own mother. They were too young to remember, of course, but the venom that seeps into Vulturemask's voice when he spits the word Rain is tell enough. Abandoned, he says. Whitekit may as well have been too. Sunflowerpaw never had the chance to yearn for their mother's affection; Whitekit does not have that luxury, haunted by the ever-present of a parent does not even spare a thought for own child.
Perhaps it is because Sunflowerpaw is thinking of the young kit that the feather catches their eye. It is small and soft, ghost-white dove-fluff. They catch it as it falls on one of their excursions out of camp. and now they carry it back to the nursery, jaws clenched around its quill-like base.
They know they'll find Whitekit here -- it's daytime, after all. Sunflowerpaw makes their way towards her, a slight bounce in their step. Tail raised in hello, the apprentice places the feather before Whitekit, nudges it forwards with their nose. It's the exact color of her fur.
They never spent much time together, as denmates; Whitekit's age put her in the peripheries of the older kit's vision. By the time the albino child was leaving the nursery, Sunflowerpaw was already being apprenticed. Such is the pace of WindClan. Yet the time they did spend together, Sunflowerpaw had enjoyed. They have always been drawn to the quieter types -- and there is something about Whitekit too, that inspires a tentative sense of kinship.
Greyhawk's treatment of her only daughter -- as a burden, as something to push away and scorn -- reminds Sunflowerpaw of what they've been told of their own mother. They were too young to remember, of course, but the venom that seeps into Vulturemask's voice when he spits the word Rain is tell enough. Abandoned, he says. Whitekit may as well have been too. Sunflowerpaw never had the chance to yearn for their mother's affection; Whitekit does not have that luxury, haunted by the ever-present of a parent does not even spare a thought for own child.
Perhaps it is because Sunflowerpaw is thinking of the young kit that the feather catches their eye. It is small and soft, ghost-white dove-fluff. They catch it as it falls on one of their excursions out of camp. and now they carry it back to the nursery, jaws clenched around its quill-like base.
They know they'll find Whitekit here -- it's daytime, after all. Sunflowerpaw makes their way towards her, a slight bounce in their step. Tail raised in hello, the apprentice places the feather before Whitekit, nudges it forwards with their nose. It's the exact color of her fur.
IT'S EASY TO EXPLAIN 'CAUSE THIS WORLD'S NOT TAME .°☀
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// please wait for @whitekit !
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SUNFLOWERPAW named by their half-brother vulturemask after his friend and mentor.
— they/them, 4 moons. semiverbal.
— windclan apprentice, mentored by wolfsong.
— reserved yet loyal, distrusts most.
primary character, high activity. penned by saturnid. -
