pafp ROCK BOTTOM DOESNT PAY RENT — a rude comment

[LITTLE WOLF]

"SPEECH"
Little Wolf is nothing more than a shadow in the entrance to the nursery. Her kits are playing in camp, she can see them through half lidded eyes, can hear their mumbled chatter and exclamations as they tussle. The nursery felt a little more empty without Stormpaw Falconpaw and their mother and Little Wolf is certain they are missing their den mates company as much as she misses Flamewhiskers but they would join them soon. She does not find herself as excited for their apprentice ceremony as she had been for her first litter. In her first litter the ceremony had spelled freedom. She was no longer confined to the nursery, to the four walls of camp. She had her daughter by her side and she could take her out, show her the territory. Show her the world. She misses Howlpaw, Fireflypaw, and of course Morningpaw more than anything but she is glad she has Burnpaw Moonpaw and now Duskkit and Skykit here with her. Their apprentice ceremony spelled danger in her mind though, a whole world opening up before them that she was not ready to let them traverse. She almost thinks of begging her mother to delay their apprenticeship out of a desire to put it off for as long as possible but she knows Howlingstar will only offer reassurances that it would be fine.

She lets out a sigh and continues listening to her kits, only now she hears a different voice thrown into the mix….

// @FARQ
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[BIRDPAW ⇇]

❝ They huddle in the shadow cast over the sunkissed camp floor nearest the nursery, a picked-apart piece of prey abandoned between their forepaws. Little Wolf stands sentry over her newest kits, so similar they could be twins -- like the other ones, they think. Bad omen. Bad, bad omen. Bringing ThunderClan more misfortune. More death. Birdpaw especially eyes the she-kit with the broad ginger patches. The entire Clan eyes that one, don't they? Suspicious. Badly-named. Skykit.

Birdpaw remembers a time many moons ago, when some faceless queen had watched them scuffle with leaves. No playmates. No littermates. No mother to curl her body around them after an evening of play. No father to visit them after his patrol, gift of fresh-kill dangling from strong jaws.

They seethe, but it's second nature. They barely notice their anger anymore.

Pale eyes lower to the mangled bird nestled in front of them. They aren't hungry. They don't want it. But damn if they'll let it go to waste...

A startling pressure at their side. Sharp thud. One of the little brats has hurtled themselves into them. Birdpaw doesn't know if it's an accident or not, but in the moment, they do not care. The little brown tabby shows their fangs, ears jetplaning with rage. "Stay away from me, you little freaks!"

Birdpaw leaps to their white paws, fur ruffled and face full of spite. They would not harm either of the kits -- they aren't that far gone, no, no. Birdpaw would not harm Howlingstar's grandchildren, anyway. Bad news. Bad luck. But their sour expression grows into a nasty sneer. "Just because your father wants nothing to do with you doesn't mean I do, either." Well, it's not cruel if it's true, is it?

Birdpaw puts an almost protective forepaw over the remaining bits of their lunch. Ruined now. All ruined.​

 

[LITTLE WOLF]

Little Wolfs ears burn. Anger curls in her stomach like a coiled snake, about to strike. She wants to scream at the cat with the foul words barbing their tongue but when she sees that they are an apprentice, that they are barely younger than her oldest litter she steels herself. As badly as she wants to put this cat into their place, they are just an apprentice. Still learning about the world and if she can remember correctly, no parents to guide them either. She feels a sympathetic pang but it does not erase the cruelty this cat has shown to their kits. "Truly, Birdpaw do you have nothing better to do than sit around and be rude to kits?" her voice is steely, so devoid of the warmth it normally possesses. "Perhaps I should speak to your mentor about this. I’m sure they would be happy to assign you a few extra tasks to keep you busy and away from the nursery." she emphasizes the last part. Away from her kits. If they bothered them they could stay away, it was that simple. Little Wolf does not regret her choices, does not feel ashamed or embarrassed because of who she had chosen to love and she will stand by that belief. "a good warrior does not speak ill of their clanmates" she adds, her tone more gentle, hoping they get the message "you do want to be a noble warrior one day don’t you?" she hopes so. It is what she wants for her own children one day, to grow into strong and good-hearted cats and she hopes the same for Birdpaw too, one day.
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[RACCOONSTRIPE]

Raccoonstripe sits two or three foxlengths away. He had been idly watching his sister with her newest litter, two little tortoiseshells, imitations of their SkyClan sister Howlpaw. He finds himself casting his own judgments in his head -- Skykit, a fool of a name, a fool of a choice. The tabby has entirely given up on Little Wolf displaying any good sense. Her love for that kittypet has infected her mind.

Even though he can't stand Birdpaw -- nasty little thing, bitter and perpetually sulking -- he's surprised by the tabby feline's harsh reaction to being disturbed by the kits. Little Wolf's bristling, but she handles it gently enough. Raccoonstripe studies her for a moment, then pads over. He gives Dusk-kit and Skykit a cursory glance before giving in and blinking affectionately at each one. Their mother is a mousebrain, but they're his kin, and they'll be fine ThunderClan warriors someday.

He turns his dark gaze to Little Wolf, giving her a nudge with his muzzle. "They'll have to get used to that sort of comment, you know," he says, his tone mild. "Even if their father is... gone, or too cowardly to step forward, with a name like Skykit..." He shrugs. He assumes his sister had known what she had been risking by naming her daughter that.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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