- Jun 14, 2024
- 26
- 8
- 3
It's rare that Coltkit expresses much interest in typical kit activities . . . the chimera tomkit had given each of his denmates a barely interested once - over upon his sudden arrival in the Clan, and no more. Neither the sweetest of coos nor the most ferocious of threats usually elicited much more from him than a distinterested split - eyed glance and a yawn. Today it seems like much of the same will be true; the tabby tomkit sprawls lazily across the sweet - smelling grass floor of camp, rolling to expose his pale - furred belly to the sun's gentle warmth. Mittened forepaws sprawl wide on long legs, all sixteen toes seeking to knead the sun - beaten earth as he tumbles back to resting on his stomach.
Suddenly—perhaps he's finally reached a point of boredom, or, more likely, the sun has grown too hot for his fluffy little body—he seems taken by a ghost of energy, enough that his poking pink tongue retreats as he hauls himself atop a small stone. This small goal thus achieved, he lets his paws loll sleepily on its cool gray surface before he reanimates, drowsy off - toned eyes sweeping over the other kits at play.
" I'm, um . . . " his slow, perpetually purr - esque voice tapers off as he tries to recall one of the thousand lessons the queens have been attempting to impart. He's kind of hungry . . . maybe one of them will bring him a mouse if he asks . . . what was he thinking about again? Oh, the thing. " . . . Coltstar! " he proclaims haltingly, having finally seized upon some barely - retained teaching. " Of . . . BlueClan. I've got announcements . . . or something . . ."
Suddenly—perhaps he's finally reached a point of boredom, or, more likely, the sun has grown too hot for his fluffy little body—he seems taken by a ghost of energy, enough that his poking pink tongue retreats as he hauls himself atop a small stone. This small goal thus achieved, he lets his paws loll sleepily on its cool gray surface before he reanimates, drowsy off - toned eyes sweeping over the other kits at play.
" I'm, um . . . " his slow, perpetually purr - esque voice tapers off as he tries to recall one of the thousand lessons the queens have been attempting to impart. He's kind of hungry . . . maybe one of them will bring him a mouse if he asks . . . what was he thinking about again? Oh, the thing. " . . . Coltstar! " he proclaims haltingly, having finally seized upon some barely - retained teaching. " Of . . . BlueClan. I've got announcements . . . or something . . ."
OOC : —☁