- May 24, 2023
- 17
- 9
- 3
𓅪 When the one named Chilledstar invited Crow to live amongst them as Crowkit, he had taken them up on the offer quickly. The three moon old had no idea what clan life entailed, but he was more than willing to agree to whatever and turn tail on the Carrionplace. The timing couldn't have been better to Crow after he had thoroughly infuriated his junkyard neighbor by running off with a little knickknack of his.
Dual - hued eyes open to a gusty and murky morning, and the feathery black kit rouses, faint alarm jostling him further awake after waking in this strange place for the first time. Blinking sleep from shiny eyes, his gaze focuses on the cobalt blue wrapper huddled up beside him. The black - furred tomkit thinks of the little shining silver trinket he had
A long yawn splits his maw, and not very prone to shyness or fear, the emotions he feels bewilder him. Eyes locked on the wrapper, Crowkit felt nervous to venture beyond his new nest, not entirely sure what to expect. Some of the cats who approached him at the stream had kind of ... freaked him out. The other cats at the Carrionplace warned of these clan cats who lived in shadows, that they were swamp monsters waiting in the dark, ready to snatch anyone and drag them into cesspools to eat them! The two toms Crowkit met yesterday definitely seemed like they partook in that, but the others appeared mild enough. Mixed signals.
As he rose, his black nose nudged the wrapper, almost as if the twoleg trash could provide him some comfort or words of encouragement. Before he exits, shining mismatched eyes sweep the nests, but nothing piques his interest. He preferred that, Crowkit didn't want to get chased out of this place too. His paws swamp into the mud slightly as he leaves the thorned hollow they called the nursery. He wasn't very used to the muck, but he appears to not mind much at all.
His stomach hadn't known any food for little more than a day, and the rumbling wracked his skinny body as he made his way out into the opening. A sudden gust of wind throws him off his paws for a split second, and feathery ebony fur swoops with it. He looked even more bedraggled than before.
He brought himself closer to the ground, and he looked like a shiny black beetle scuttling towards the measly pile of freshkill. He looked extremely suspicious as if he were on a covert heist (like the pile wasn't in plain view.) Dual - toned eyes shift left to right, and the kit runs up to the pile and plucks as much as little jaws can carry. He drops his loot into his own grubby little pile and begins to tear into a frog loudly, fully forgetting his earlier feelings of shyness.
— feel free to yell at him or snatch it away from him he needs to learn lmfao >:} he probably has like 3 items
"speech"
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