camp SAY LESS // judging

[brookstorm]

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Brook-kit has found herself growing more and more bored with the confinement of their temporary camp. She understands full and well why kittens like her are meant to stay in place - the world is dangerous to untrained felines! But that doesn't necessarily mean that she's happy to sit around and watch the clouds drift by. In fact, the idea that some day soon she will be allowed out by virtue of a name change and mentor, is somehow just enough to keep her engaged and interested in Clan ongoings. Well... that and simply wanting to be involved by some capacity.

Patrols were sent out recently (she remembers the long lists of names and borders to explore, though not the combinations of each,) and she waits silently by one of the camp's entrances for them to return. And one by one, they do - some smelling of land too far off, others dragging in fresh prey. It's the latter she focuses on, specifically with the warriors in question. Green eyes narrow as she murmurs beneath her breath, "No, no... not quite," gauging the capabilities of each RiverClanner purely by that of what they return with. One seems to only come home with a minnow, and Brook-kit can't help her audible gasp, followed by a meager, "That's pathetic." A word she doesn't entirely understand, likely repeated from some other cat around camp. Regardless, she swipes her tongue over her chest fur, continuing her self made conversation, "I wouldn't even come home with something like that."​

 

[lichenstar]

The sheer amount of small children that had grown in staggering number always made Lichentail a little on edge. They were weird... hard to understand... very elusive little things. They held a sense of entitlement only ignorance could teach them and often lacked an understanding for hard work. They were fed, cleaned, played with, often the parents bending to the unrelenting will just to make them smile. It left a bitter spot in them they chose to ignore most often.

But the judgmental decrees that practically echoed across the temporary camp were insanely difficult to ignore this go around. For once she hadn't been one of the few on hunting patrol- in this case that would save her some harsh judgement apparently- and had instead been pushed towards protecting the borders. It was simple enough work, arguably much easier than hunting, but it meant she had some free time. This was not how she intended to spend it.

Watching as the little kit's gaze made a hard stare at the returning warriors, their nose scrunched up in distaste for her rather loud and incredibly rude commentary.

"You're spouting a lot of harsh critiques for someone that hasn't caught their first mouse yet," their ear twitched in an expression of their growing annoyance. "They've worked a lot harder for a lot longer than you have... Why do you consider yourself an expert here?" It was a question meant to point out her lack of experience but also one of mild curiosity.. why DID Brook-kit think she was the authority on all things hunting related? It was a weird illusion of the self they couldn't fathom having.​

 

[CRAPPIEPATCH]

They know that they are not the greatest hunter, or fisher, or fighter, or… anything, truly. Crappiepaw is not good at much. But they managed to catch a minnow today—it is a rather small fish, but it is a fish nonetheless, and food is food. ShadowClan had starved during the winter months, growing ragged and reed-thin, and Crappiepaw will never complain about any food that they are granted. Still, they cannot help but to feel embarrassed by their lack of a large catch, like the perch that another on their patrol had caught.

Their embarrassment evaporates, however, as soon as a kit’s eyes land on them, words like poison falling from her mouth. It is nothing that the apprentice has not heard before, and so they shrug at her, dropping their catch to rest upon the rest of the prey pile. "You would never have come home with this, because you have never gone hunting before. You have not had to provide for yourself. A small catch is better than no catch." Brookkit’s criticism is pointless, meant not to help but to shame, and Crappiepaw refuses to feel shame for their catch in the face of a child who seems to think that she is—what, the deputy? Her mother is not even the deputy, not anymore. They do not have to be nice to this kit. In fact, they decide that they despise her.

The calico lifts their chin, looking down their nose at the smaller cat. Lichentail has already stepped in, already said that Brookkit has no place criticizing others, but the prickle of heat beneath their pelt drives them to sneer down at the child. "But, if you are such an expert—go on, then. Catch a better fish." She should not be criticizing others for a catch that is nearly as large as her, they think, but decide to keep the remainder of their thoughts to themself. Their breath is better spent forcing their lungs to work properly.
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[ my my, cold hearted child ]​

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[meadowheart]

TAGS — Meadowkit is not often far from his sisters, and today is no exception. Brook-kit's teasing is not something that comes easy to him, exactly; it is in Meadowkit's nature to be conscious of kindness and to try and uplift his fellow RiverClanners whenever he can. It's not necessarily something he's been taught, but he operates on this principle all the same, a wind-up car powered by his simple joy.

It's why, at first blush, he finds Brook-kit's demeanor difficult to parse. But as he stares at Crappiepaw's minnow, trying to make sense of his sister's assessment, he thinks that maybe he can understand. She's just pointing out the facts, isn't she? It's a pretty poor fish, definitely not as big as the ones their father totes home. And he can understand Brook-kit's restlessness, too. It's hard to hear stories of the river without being able to so much as smell it except for on the fur of returning hunters. Green eyes that match his sister's scrutinize the piece of prey. "It's really small," Meadowkit concurs, bobbed tail wiggling as he settles into his accusation.

What he doesn't expect is for Lichentail and Crappiepaw to laud them with discipline. Meadowkit's ears pin to his skull; he is made suddenly sheepish by the words the two press upon his sister and himself. And maybe he's just impressionable, but his first instinct is to turn against Brook-kit; to damn her words in order to save his own face. But something tugs at his gut at the thought of it. "Hey..." Meadowkit huffs with no real direction. It's not like Lichentail or Crappiepaw are really wrong, are they? A pout settles across the boy's muzzle. His ears perk at the apprentice's suggestion, though. Catch a better fish. Well, that seemed doable, didn't it? They're RiverClanners after all-- and Buckgait has told him before that one day he'd catch some of the biggest fish in the river.

Meadowkit's stumpy tail wags impatiently. "Okay!" he accepts, not realizing that Crappiepaw's challenge was merely rhetorical. "Does'at mean we can go t' the river?" Green eyes glimmer with hope. He glances at Brook-kit excitedly. Maybe her harsh words had done some good after all?​

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[murkblossom]

The problem, Murkblossom has found, with many other adults and their interactions with children is that they do not treat them as they should. He is no expert on the subject, and is often anxious he may harm one of the kittens by accident, but he also knows there is a tendency to forget that children are still new to the world. They do not have moons of experience socializing, and often echo what they hear, or emulate someone important to them. It is not a moral failing on a kit's part if they make a comment that seems harsh, and responding harshly in kind —combatively, even— is...poor decision-making.

"Sh." Given his gaze lingers pointedly on Crappiepaw and Lichentail, it is rather clear who the targets of the hushing sound are. Said stare turns to Meadowkit, gentling. He shakes his head slowly, apologetic, then looks to his sister Brookkit. "Small fish better for some," he tells her quietly. "Olter cats— teeth hurt, or stomach small. Is goot for kittens, too." He does not want to keep talking, but it seems necessary considering how the conversation has gone thus far. "Important to be nice. Woult hurt your heart if cat sait same to you, da?"

〘 INFORMATION 〙​

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[iciclefang]

With such dour and unpleasant parents, it's hardly a surprise to Iciclefang that at least one of their kits has taken to scowling and openly critiquing the hunting patrols' catches. She could almost imagine herself doing something similar as a kit, and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth before she pads closer.

It's amusing to see Lichentail and Crappiepaw worked up at the little she-kit's comment. "I wouldn't even come home with something like that," the gray fluffball pipes up. Iciclefang's eyes sparkle with amusement as the warriors she criticizes bite back. The minnow Crappiepaw holds in his mouth is especially the subject of scrutiny, it seems.

"Don't let the kits ruffle your fur," she purrs mockingly in their direction. "A little constructive criticism never hurt anyone."

Truthfully, had she been in their position, her response may have been different... but she's not feeling charitable enough to consider that today. Besides, Crappiepaw's challenge has excited Brook-kit's tawny-colored brother. "Maybe a puddle," she says to him with thinly veiled mirth.

Murkblossom's approach earns a subtle dip of Iciclefang's head. The strange accented voice tumbling from his jaws tells the kits to behave, essentially. To not speak to others as they would not like to be spoken to. A boring lesson, but a neccessary one, she supposes. (Had Iciclefang ever internalized this lesson?)

The tortoiseshell swipes her tongue about her jaws thoughtfully. "Or maybe," she says coolly, "they'll grow thicker skins than the rest of RiverClan." Her smile is tight, vanishing as soon as it appears.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[otterbite]

Had Brook-kit voiced her thoughts on the Beech Copse camp, Otterkit would have loudly agreed. Even though he hadn't spent any time in the old camp, having only known this 'temporary' place, it sounded much better given the descriptions from his Clanmates. Some of the older kittens remembered enough to explain him the sage den they used to sleep in, but he couldn't even imagine what that would look like. How much safer that would feel.

Seeing, but mostly hearing, his denmates criticize the warriors that filtered through had caught his curiosity. Otterkit meandered over to sit with the two siblings. He watched quietly, nodding his head as though he could agree.

Of course Brook-kit's sour words caught some attention, flaring some attitudes among them. "The river? I wanna go!" He piped up loudly. "Lets catch a fish! Lets catch a fish!" He chanted loudly, squeezing in between the two siblings to stomp his paws at in his demand. ​

RIVERCLAN KIT ✦ BLUE-BLACK CHIMERA ✦ 2 MOONS ✦ TAGS​

 

[LITTLEPAW.]

As a large kitten, in spite of her namesake, the black-and-white she-cat found herself silently agreeing with Brook-kit's assessments of the puny fish. It was only recently that she had begun to fully eat solids, but she was consistently hungry in comparison to the others and found herself needing apprentice portions more often than not. A healthy appetite to some, greed to others, regardless, Littlekit couldn't help being... not little. Before she had the chance to chime in, warriors had began to snip at her denmate, claiming that she had no right to judge because she had not caught anything bigger. Well that was hardly fair! They were confined to camp for at least another moon and it wasn't like any fish were just swimming about inside of it! Her fur bristled in quiet defence of the other kitten - she would help the little ruler-stickler get revenge for the insolence of the elders if she'd allow it. There was a dare to catch a bigger fish that Meadowkit took as a challenge and approval to go near the river and Littlekit's ears perked in intrigue. For the first time, she prowled closer in interest.

Murkblossom's words fell on deaf ears as the unspoken but uncontested promise to go hunting echoed across the area. A smirk appeared on her maw. "I can lead the patrol!" She declared with the unchecked confidence of any apprentice, gaze challenging the warriors to disagree. What could they say? No? It wasn't like dares could go unanswered, it wasn't like they could wait moons to make Crappie and Lichen eat their words either, because that would be boring. "We'll fill our bellies, maybe we'll even have some fish left over for you! Oh wait, we totally will, because we are gonna be better hunters than you. Boom!" Owned. Totally owned. Her milk teeth flashed as she pictured the responses to the impossible roast she had just dished out to her clanmates (totally impossible). Preening down her unruly chest fur like an overly proud rooster, Littlekit strode closer to other kittens in a rallying gesture. It occurred to her, as she waited for a comeback, that she had no clue how to hunt a fish. Tails and paws were her prey of choice, but actual food? Her smile faltered for a second before she forced it to return. They'd figure it out.... probably.



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