saturday night | kit sitting




What had she been thinking? She is utterly mad. Of course she has to be given her ridiculous aggreance to watch both Sandra's and her sister's litters. It isn't like she has a liking for kits either and so finding herself stuck in the nursery to keep her eyes on them has become a whirlwind of energetic voices and many many tiny figures climbing on her or hanging off her form. Huffing she decides to lay down somewhere but it doesn't stop the climbing, especially Slitherkit who clings to her side like glue. This to her is almost like a hellish nightmare and as she scraps Slitherkit off of her she almost glares at the kits. "Shouldn't you be playing amongst yourselves instead of pestering me? I'm just here to watch you and hopefully stop you from getting hurt." This she can tell is not a job for her and she looks miserable, as if she can meld with the shadows and disappear from the nursery.

The woman has never thought about having kits herself and this is sort of pushing her towards the no, never side of things. They are just too much and she lays her head down on her paws, almost glaring out of the nursery. Maybe son she can get them to take a nap and she can find some peace in tbe silence.
Even without having met his aunt, Crowkit felt a certain sense of awe when he had the fortune to be in Bonejaw's presence; that she had been tasked with babysitting had terribly excited Crowkit, but not a soul would be able to tell from the neutral expression he wore. At first, he'd had the thought to perhaps speak with the older she-cat, but after watching from the sidelines as Bonejaw was assaulted by the other kits, Crowkit decided to stay back. A more bold tom might have warned the other kits off of Bonejaw so that she could have some peace, but Crowkit kept his words to himself, silently worrying as he mimics the pose that his aunt has taken a few feet away.

It wasn't exactly uncommon for Fire to appear in the nursery, as the reddish she-cat liked to see the kits and make sure the queens had enough prey. Today was no exception, and Fire slipped into the warm space with a snipe clamped in her jaws.

Her emerald gaze would glow with surprise when it was Bonejaw she spotted instead of Sandra and Briarstar. But the surprise would soon melt away to warm amusement as the kittens clambered all over the clearly miserable molly and Fire would walk over, placing the prey before them and meowing in a motherly yet slightly scolding tone, "Now kittens, behave yourselves. Bonejaw is our medicine cat, not a climbing log. Look, I've brought you all some prey to eat."

Hopefully, her words had helped and Fire then turned to Bonejaw and dipped her head respectfully, "You seem to be having a wonderful time, I hope they aren't driving you too crazy." Her tone held nothing but humble and kind teasing as she took a seat, wrapping her fluffy tail around her paws as she did.

An amused purr rose from Sagepaw’s throat as she watched the clan’s kittens clambering over Bonejaw. “Need some help?” she asked as she padded over to the nursery. “If you want someone to climb on, I’m available,” she called to the kits. “Bonejaw can’t do much looking after you if she can’t even move.” Unlike the miserable looking medic, Sagepaw had a soft spot for the youth of the clan.

Bonejaw is a safe adult, as Daffodil has labeled the dark she-cat. So the kit has attached herself to the medicine cat’s side since joining the family they call ShadowClan. She doesn’t know what a medicine cat is, or what that means for Bonejaw, but she understands that it means she cannot follow the woman everywhere that she goes. So the black-patched kit has taken to watching from a safe distance, making herself small and staying out of the way. Not interacting, but merely observing.

With no Mama, Daffodil usually keeps far away from the nursery. She has no reason to remain there with her mother like the other kits do. But today she finds herself staring, wide-eyed, at the nursery, where Bonejaw sits surrounded by clambering kits. She scurries over to stand just inside of the nursery, unsure of her next move. There is another kit, quiet, sitting not too far away, but she is too nervous to approach him. "Loud," she mumbles, shaking her head. She turns to glance up at the red-furred adult who has wandered in alongside a friendly looking apprentice. Feeling bold, she speaks up with a flick of her black ear. "Playing is loud."

──⠀ ﹙†﹚⠀MORTIS ⠀: ⠀ marrowkit, as it would seem, was not one to cut anyone a break — certainly not his aunt who, as he clumsily climbed down from his sideways position over her ivory spine, grumbled away. whether he simply did not recognized or refused to comprehend the woman’s irritation was up for debate, but the boy only slams his full weight against her, sliding forward with an aggressive nuzzle, paws skittering out from under him, “ good thing we don’t gotta go far if’n we do get hurt, huh? “ the child chimed, little maw right next to the bicolored molly’s ear. marrow giggled, darting forward to bat eagerly at slitherkit, his tail twitching over bonejaw’s nose once he leaps. after attempting to bap his brother playfully over the ear marrow would pivot, stamping his little paws and puffing out his chest, “ ‘cus mama says i gotta talent for it! “ he declares, a wicked, crooked smile coming to beam across his dark maw. talents were good!

  • − marrowkit ; he / him. kit of shadowclan, son of briarstar and amber
    − longhaired spiky black tom w low white & sunburst orange eyes
    − three months old, penned by antlers

Ghost sits next to Crowkit since they're friends, and his eyes are big and wide as he watches the other kits. Pale paws shuffle in the tangle of moss and softstuff that makes up the nursery floor, he wants to climb too, but he's no good at it... and Bonejaw is...weiiiirrrd... Marrowkit was good at climbing, though...

He huffs as Fire tries to stop him. Marrowkit was having fun, so... so... why did it matter? And Sage offers herself as a climbing-thing instead. Ghostkit blinks at her, lips pursed in the slightest of pouts. "You... you're not that much older..." Ghost says. Why was she acting like kits who climbed were silly?

He shuffles on his paws, suddenly restless. Everyone was...was being so silly for no reason. Crowkit was smart. He's gonna stay next to Crowkit. Ghost hears someone say playing is loud. He doesn't know who, but he responds anyways. "Mama says really good at... quiet playing," he mumbles, pink-blue hues unblinking as he watches Marrowkit jump around. Their fight was intense... play-fighting on a moving ground, and a weird one like bone, too. He couldn't even climb regular stuff.
Sagepaw smiled and gently flicked Daffodilkit's ear with her tail. "You're right," she observed, watching as the group of kits continued to clamber over the medicine cat. "Maybe we could think of a quieter game to play instead?" And then Ghostkit was there to remind her that she wasn't much older than they were, and a small, sad smile tugged at the corners of the molly's mouth. She didn't remember ever playing as a kit. She'd had no littermates, and then after her mother had died, life with her father had been a constant rush of training, training, and more training. She scarcely even remembered how to play.

"I know," she answered, looking down at the small white tom. "But somehow I think Bonejaw would be much less tolerant if I tried climbing on her."
Wasn't Marrowkit at all worried about bothering Bonejaw too relentlessly? Crowkit wasn't entirely sure how his brother hadn't come to the realization that he might be a bit overwhelming, but Crowkit's attention was drawn away from his more bold sibling when he heard Ghostkit speaking softly at his side.
"Okay," Crowkit said, quieting for an uncomfortable amount of time before he spoke again, "I think I am, too." He did prefer more quiet activities, and he supposed that Ghostkit was similar- it was a nice feeling to know that he wasn't alone in his silence.