- Jan 26, 2024
- 259
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Each dawn brings Marblekit closer to apprenticeship, and then, by proxy, to warriorhood. Each day, her belly cramps, a touch uncertain about the life that's unfolding before her, about the path laid by Siltcloud that she can't help but stumble along to. Her mother had been a warrior, and there's Lilacfur, who sits on Chilledstar's council, fierce and loyal and upright. It's in her blood to do great things—but so too is it in her blood to wreak havoc, to cause chaos.
The uncertain pale she-kit sits near camp's entrance. The morning dew is still fresh and gleaming on the marshgrass; the air is cool, untouched by swelling greenleaf heat. A wiry black warrior shivers through the foliage guarding camp, her amber eyes clouded and deep in thought. Prey hangs from the she-cat's jaws. Marblekit's eyes squint, then narrow, focusing on Briarthorn's gait, the purpose she walks with, the naturalness of her existence. Will that be her, soon, ploughing into camp with a frog in her jaws for the queens, for the elders?
She pushes herself to her paws, hesitant. "Briarthorn?" Her tone is bold, but polite, and she makes sure to stay out of the older she-cat's way as she approaches her. "Did you... did you have a good hunt?" Even as young as she is, she can feel it's an awkward start, and her skin burns beneath her light tabby pelt. She sits, shuffles her paws. "How old were you when you caught your first prey? What was it?"
It will be me, soon, she thinks, and she does not know if she is proud, frightened, or wary of the idea. It will be me.
The uncertain pale she-kit sits near camp's entrance. The morning dew is still fresh and gleaming on the marshgrass; the air is cool, untouched by swelling greenleaf heat. A wiry black warrior shivers through the foliage guarding camp, her amber eyes clouded and deep in thought. Prey hangs from the she-cat's jaws. Marblekit's eyes squint, then narrow, focusing on Briarthorn's gait, the purpose she walks with, the naturalness of her existence. Will that be her, soon, ploughing into camp with a frog in her jaws for the queens, for the elders?
She pushes herself to her paws, hesitant. "Briarthorn?" Her tone is bold, but polite, and she makes sure to stay out of the older she-cat's way as she approaches her. "Did you... did you have a good hunt?" Even as young as she is, she can feel it's an awkward start, and her skin burns beneath her light tabby pelt. She sits, shuffles her paws. "How old were you when you caught your first prey? What was it?"
It will be me, soon, she thinks, and she does not know if she is proud, frightened, or wary of the idea. It will be me.
- ooc: please wait for @Briarthorn
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Marblekit, she/they w/ feminine and non-gendered terms.
— "speech", thoughts, attack
— 5 moons old, ages realistically on the 1st.
— mentored by n/a ; mentoring n/a ; previously mentored n/a
— shadowclan kit, formerly a rogue.siltcloudx lilacfur, gen 3.
— currently mated to n/a.
— penned by Marquette.
sh fawn tabby with dull green eyes. courageous, curious, introspective, observant, judgmental, snarky.