private REMEMBER THE DRAGON \ storytime

[BLUEFROST]

It's freezing outside, and the air sings of snow, even if so far they are lucky not to see even a single flake. Bluefrost ushers the kits inside as a terribly cold rain begins to fall, and Thriftfeather is not far behind her, helping her corral them. He looks weary, dirty, no doubt from hours toiling in the moorland to feed the Clan. She touches her muzzle to his briefly, a show of thanks for his hard work, and secretly relishes the time she gets to spend with him now that hunting is called off for the day.

The children are antsy, cooped up in the nursery. They've been exposed to the camp at large; they've been given free reign of their Clan, and now the nursery is boring fare. Bluefrost is not sure how to keep them entertained, until finally she mews, "Settle down. Would you like to hear about how WindClan was made?" Perhaps some of them are excited to hear about this, but she expects some discontent at the prospect of a relatively boring tale. Bluefrost adds, "Your grandmother is the one who built this Clan. Did you know that? Come here. I will tell you."

Until now, she has not spoken of the kits' grandmother — and she is sure Thriftfeather has not either, except maybe to reminisce about the mother he'd lost to Ghostwail's claws. Sootstar's name had not escaped her lips, nor had Weaselclaw's — but the Clan will know this for them, will remind them as they age just where they'd come from, and she wants to get ahead of that as early as she can.

Bluefrost shares a long, knowing look with Thriftfeather before she speaks. There will be ommissions, and she prays he will forgive her for that. WindClan will tell them the terrible truth. The forest at large will. But let them be proud of who they are, even if it's just for a moon or so.

"Your grandmother was a cat named Sootstar," she begins. "She was my mother, and Cottonsprig's, and Sootspot's. She came from the marshes. She fought in the Great Battle, and after StarClan came to tell the cats to break off into Clans, she gathered a group of cats and came here, to the moor." She smiles down at them, their whiskered little faces, their eyes round as moons. "She claimed this territory for WindClan. She named it that because of the wind that blows through the moor."

Bluefrost's ears flick. "You all look like her, you know. She had gray fur, and white cheek fluff, and bright green eyes." Her eyes pass over each child, lingering over Comfreykit and Sootkit in particular. "She was one of the strongest leaders in the forest. She won many battles, some against SkyClan and some against RiverClan. My father... he fought to defend her honor many times." She does not mention how WindClan had invaded RiverClan in the dead of night, trampling their camp. She does not mention the two-pronged attack on SkyClan in the blizzard, ruining their herb stock. Those are details for older ears.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: @Thriftfeather @Noor ♡ @Asterkit @rimekit @Comfreykit @FOALKIT :)
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Brackenpaw.
  — windclan queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — mated to Thriftfeather.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.

​

 

[Comfreykit]

Just about anything is better than having to keep playing out of the nursery in the chilliness of a premature Leafbare, and Comfreykit is more than happy to be corralled back inside by mother as it begins to rain, icy drops pricking his fur down to the skin in a way that makes him shiver and move more quickly back into the security of the nursery. Bluefrost is right - now that Comfreykit has seen the whole world of the camp that lies beyond nursery walls, he wants nothing more than to keep exploring that freedom - but he also knows that there are some things that aren't worth getting mother upset over, and he agrees with her that this is one of them.

Settling in as his more rambunctious siblings continue to storm about, Comfreykit looks up at mother, listening to her words carefully even as he's jostled by moving bodies. He can't say he's too interested in learning about WindClan's history, but mother has just the line to hook him onto her story, the words Your grandmother is the one who built this Clan ringing in Comfreykit's perked ears. Grandmother? He knew of grandfather, Weaselclaw, who had visited him in his dreams not long ago, but he knew little of grandmother. His pelt starts to settle as his siblings do, all of them now tuned in to hear the story that was no longer so much about the Clan's history, but of their grandmother, too.

"Same name." Comfreykit murmurs as he touches his shoulder against Sootkit's, not sparing his sister a glance as he does so. Something sparks in his chest, something that might have been envy, or something that might have been deference. For now, he doesn't have a name for it. Sootstar has the same name as Sootkit, same name as Sootspot, who mother has spoken of without fondness. To have so many others named in your image... it seems like something of a compliment, Comfreykit decides. He wonders if one day, he might have family that shares his name, his appearance in the way that he and his siblings share Sootstar's.

Then, mother mentions her father, and a look of recognition temporarily blinds the sour look that generally holds command over Comfreykit's face.

"Grandfather!" He growls, as if heralding the entrance of a hero to the story.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎OOC ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ INFO ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• !

• 

• COMFREYKIT ✩ kit of windclan, zero moons
  → walks hunched over.
  → peaceful and healing powerplay permitted.
  → penned by Archivist → .archivist on discord.

​

 

[Sootkit]

.·:*¨༺ ♠ ༻¨*:·.
The nursery is Sootkit's safe space, she thinks. It's warm, lined with the comforting scent of milk and her mother, and most of all it shelters Sootkit from the cold outside, the thing that makes the girls nose sting and her shoulders shiver. Still, the outside calls the girl to it with a song she cannot resist, even when the rain begins to frost and prickle against the kittens spine.

Mama is quick to usher the group of kittens back inside, and there is only a small pang of disappointment in Sootkits chest. The promise of a story is enough to temporarily quell the smokey kittens thirst, how the great WindClan came to be. Her teal-tinted gaze stretches wide in wonder, toddling over with an eager hum. " Want a story" the kitten chimes sweetly in agreement, opting to cuddle up close between Comfreykit and anyone else who would keep her warm. It didn't necessarily matter what it was about, Mama had a way of making anything an adventure.

Our grandmother? The kittens mind echoed curiously, her blinks quickening with the growing anticipation. Your grandmother was a cat named Sootstar. Sootkits maw parts, surprised to hear a variation of her name leave her mothers maw. "Me?" She hums just as Comfreykit nudges her shoulder, to which she responds by sprawling over her brother's shoulders with a grin.

"She sounds beautiful," the kitten coo's when her mothers gaze lingers on her and Comfreykit. At the mention of Bluefrost's father, Sootkit can hardly get her question out before Comfreykit's outburst. "Shhh!" Sootkit softly chides, aiming to lightly tap a forepaw against the other kittens forehead.
"What… what was his name?" Sootkit prompted, feeling a growing desperation to be in on the same knowledge that Comfreykit seemed to be, even if she wanted to hear more about her Grandmother that shared her name.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── AND ILL ALWAYS FEEL YOU ⋅ ✰ ⋅ IN MY BLOOD ──┐‎

• 

• 
  SOOTKIT ♠ she/her, kit of windclan, 2 moons.
  ⭃ fluffy, blue smoked tortoiseshell she-kit with heterochromatic green & blue eyes.
  ⭃ daughter of Bluefrost xx Thriftfeather
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

​

 

[Asterkit]

Now that the kits have the opportunity to spend more and more time outside, Asterkit finds herself quite enjoying the world that lies beyond the nursery. She would probably like it even more when it wasn't so cold. For now, the nursery remains a safe and warm respite, a place where she and her littermates can come and hide in whilst they're still able to.

Bluefrost ushers the gaggle of kits back inside at the sign of a cold rain, and Asterkit quickly does as she is told. Whilst glad to be out of the rain, it seems she is not alone in feeling a little wound up by having her fun and games interrupted, though she quickly settles down when Bluefrost offers to tell them a story. "Story!" Asterkit chirped in approval. It didn't take her long to settle in with her siblings, snuggling up against Sootkit and Comfreykit, before looking up at her mother as she began. Although she doesn't yet know about the marshes or the Great Battle, Asterkit hangs on to her mother's every word, drinking in the information as eagerly as she might her milk. The reveal that her grandmother's name was Sootstar is a source of amusement for her. Sootstar, Sootspot, Sootkit... "Lots of Soots," Asterkit mumbled, once this information had sunk in for her. Her eyes flicker over Sootkit for a moment, a question forming in her mind about whether she must have looked like their grandmother to earn the name, which is quickly confirmed by her mother. "She sounds powerful!" She declared. Asterkit believes it true in her heart at least. Sootstar had been the founder of WindClan, its first leader, how could she not have been strong, and wise, and powerful?

The mention of their grandfather stirs some curiosity among the kits, and Asterkit is also keen to know more. Sootkit beats her to the punch with a question about his name, so Asterkit asks, "Was he a leader too?"​

 

[rimekit]

Rimekit chooses to be the most difficult to corral back into the nursery, digging her heels into the frostbitten ground and grunting her disapproval at being ushered away from the intrigue of camp. The nursery bores her now – the taste of freedom too tantalizing despite the harsh sting of early leafbare. "No," she tries to complain while her mother gathers the kits for a story. Rimekit opens her maw again to voice her displeasure, but she is interrupted by the chorus of excitement from her siblings. Shame tingles the tips of her ears, and ever the follower, the dappled child decides to give in and join her littermates in listening to Windclan's history.

Like a poison dipped arrow to her chest, Rimekit feels a deep sting of jealousy over her sister sharing the same name as their grandmother. The punch of envy grows all the more intense as mother's emerald gaze lingers on Sootkit and Comfreykit. Children who bear Sootstar's likeness. Mother claims they all look like grandmother. Grey fur, white cheek fluff… green eyes. Liar, she thinks bitterly. Rimekit has witnessed her reflection in scant puddles before. The cowl of smoke and gold a rare smattering upon a sea of ivory. Twin pools of cerulean placed upon her rounded face. She is not like Sootstar. She is not like mother. She is not like her siblings.

'She sounds beautiful!'

'She sounds powerful!'

Fear glazes her expression as she is forced to consider that if she does not look like the hero of Windclan then she cannot be beautiful and powerful like her either. Perked ears fall back against her skull as Rimekit inches away from the crowd of kittens, seeking Thriftfeather for comfort. "I want to hear about grandfather," she murmurs, the coils of jealousy and inadequacy roiling in her belly. Maybe hearing more about Weaselclaw will help her feel better…

Maybe Rimekit can also ask about Thriftfeather's parents? Perhaps she looks like them? "After mother tells us about grandfather, can we hear about your mother and father?" Her bright blue eyes gaze pleading up at the golden tom, ears perking back up ever so slightly.​

[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[BLUEFROST]

Bluefrost sits patiently as the kittens begin to pipe up with questions, lifting their forepaws, their eyes round with excitement, with curiosity. Comfreykit is the first to speak, his little chest puffed to have been recognized as one of his grandmother's look-a-like descendents. "Grandfather!" He puts a quick term to his mother's rather brief mention of Weaselclaw, though she does not dwell on it. Her gaze shifts to Sootkit, who paws her brother and declares Sootstar sounds beautiful.

The gray queen smiles. "She was," she agreed. Sootkit's jaws are parted in surprise — in her innocence, this is the first time she's heard the name Sootstar. It would certainly not be the last, Bluefrost thinks. "What was his name?" She's referring to the grandfather she had glazed over. She shuffles her paws for a bit and replies, "His name was Weaselclaw." There are some in WindClan who still revile her father for his strength, for his battle prowess, his willingness to do whatever necessary to serve their Clan. He is a safer topic, she thinks.

Sunny-faced Asterkit blinks up at her, listening to Bluefrost's tale. She adds to Sootkit's declaration: "She sounds powerful!" Bluefrost blinks warmly at her cream-smeared daugher. "She was. All the other Clans feared her." She forgets, this time, to share a guilty glance with Thriftfeather. She had attended those Gatherings as Sootstar's apprentice, had listened to the way the other warriors talked about her mother, and it had filled her with pride. They feared her.

But then Asterkit is asking about Weaselclaw, too, and Bluefrost shakes her head gently. "No, he wasn't. He was one of her first followers, from when WindClan was brand new. She made him a lead warrior, and he died with that rank." She had known her father had wanted to die one of two ways — in battle, or old, by Sootstar's side. She does not tell her kits the reality, that he had caught yellowcough and withered away in the abandoned badger set, half-mad with pain and fever.

Rimekit is one of her rowdier children, and the young girl is petulant about being herded into the nursery for a story in the first place. When she finally settles down, she is uncharacteristically quiet where her littermates are not. Bluefrost cannot understand what she's upset about — is she not happy to hear about her blood line, powerful, beautiful, and fearsome? There's something else bothering Rimekit, and her mother does not pick up on it, even when she demands Bluefrost tell them more about Weaselclaw.

The queen tilts her head to one side. She hadn't expected such interest about her father. "Well... like I said, he was very devoted to my mother," she murmurs. "He's the one who took Smokestar's eye. And he fought in every battle he could. He was fearless. He spent his life patrolling and defending our territory from threats." She clears her throat, her gaze swinging to Thriftfeather as Rimekit clamors for more information... information about his parents, things Bluefrost does not even really know.

『 out of character. 』 ✧･ﾟ:* 『 about. 』

• ooc: —
• 
• Bluekit . Bluepaw . Bluefrost, she/her w/ feminine terms.
  — "speech", thoughts, attack
  — 23 moons old, ages realistically on the 14th.
  — mentored by Sootstar ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored Brackenpaw.
  — windclan queen. sootstar x weaselclaw, gen 2.
  — mated to Thriftfeather.
  — penned by Marquette.
  
  
  lh blue smoke she-cat with white and emerald eyes. aloof, dignified, poised, haughty, composed, distant.

​

 

[Thriftfeather]

The nursery offers only a thin respite to Thriftfeather's chilled bones. Overhead, the sky is grayed enough that Thriftfeather can only ascertain the time through his ached paws and the exhaustion in his shoulders. It must be late—and yet the kits still sing with enthusiastic compliance and protest alike. Yet they still have an energy to them that Thriftfeather is left wondering if he has ever possessed.

Perhaps not unexpected, but Thriftfeather feels himself move in soft surprise when Bluefrost speaks of the origins of WindClan. The kits will learn the whole of it in time; it would be naive of Thriftfeather to think that they will never know. Although not an exact reflection, his mind falls back to explaining StarClan to Gravelpaw—to the uncertainty of what to say, what to keep close, and to the crushing knowledge that his words would influence her beliefs regardless of how carefully he spoke.

How is Bluefrost not arrested in the same worries?

He watches her in profile as she addresses the kits and offers the piecemeal story of her mother and father. Bluefrost doesn't touch the worst of it, doesn't give mention to the clan's opinion of Sootstar as a whole, and Thriftfeather wonders if it will be Bluefrost that the kits hear it from, when they hear it. Comfreykit is quick to make the connection between Sootstar and Sootkit. Thriftfeather had hoped she would have more time without such a shadow. Now he sends a silent prayer to stars he doubts listen, thinks: may she not know what this means for some time.

The questions and comments the kits chorus are better suited for Bluefrost's answer—Thriftfeather reassures himself of such as he takes a mental step away from this conversation and its weight. He pulls himself elsewhere, anywhere that isn't beneath the burden of lineage and the trembling uncertainty of a future Thriftfeather cannot control. He is pulled back into himself by Rimekit stood before him, watching him with expectant blue eyes.

His mind scrambles backwards for her words even as he shifts himself to make space for her and finds the question he knew was coming and dreaded all the same.

The worst of it is, looking at Rimekit now, Thriftfeather finds it difficult to say no.

"Another time," He promises and hopes she is young enough to forget in the face of something more exciting, "They hadn't done anything as impressive as to—they've never made a clan. You'd be bored if you heard about them now."

A barn-born loner without family roots to stand atop—even if it was a story Thriftfeather wanted to share, there is so little he can offer. Perhaps they would not be bored then, but disappointed.
​

WINDCLAN QUEEN ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ ✦ TAGS​