sensitive topics SOFT & WARM | abandoned kitten

[antpaw.]

Leafbare is upon the land, if the chill in the air isn't enough to show for it, the snow becoming a frequent sight is. Snowflakes fall and land delicately on the ground, and on his head. Purposefully and unceremoniously dumped, the tiny creature tumbles over it's own feet. The stench of two-legs permeate the air, feet have been here, but they've since disappeared, leaving nothing but prints in the snow and a lingering scent the only proof anyone has been there in the first place. He's been lifted by the scruff, placed in the snow. Strange, unfamiliar smells that surround him are strong, placed a few paces in the territory.

Icey cold water puddles underneath him, soaking the bottom of his fur. He's never been particularly vocal, but the situation is enough for him to open his mouth and mewl with some volume. "'llo? 'llo? 'Mama 'mama?" It's cold, he doesn't know why it's so cold. It's cold! Mama is warm, siblings crowded next to him are warm. Without them he's lost in more ways than one.

It doesn't take long for the little tom with folded ears to gather tears. Fearsome underbite presses on top of his lip as the small red tabby bows his head, trying to get his sight back from the blur that threatens to drop warm tears. Snow crunching with every movement, he makes to move, but every footfall has him sinking slightly, a new spot of cold snow touching his soft underbelly. "Mama, mama." Cold fear drenches him like the snow, so he does all he can do, which is cry about it.
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[DOGBITE]

✦ Dogbite was not a fan of the cruel billowing winds in leaf-bare or the awful bone chill of the snow it brought. Still cats had bellies to be filled and jobs needed to be done. Navigating the terrain their ear twitched at the faint howl in the wind. Peering off to the side he noticed something bobbing amongst the white wavelets. Causing his brows to knit with confusion. There was no prey scent or rogue stench just the usual two-leg aroma from the border.

Cautiously, he turned direction and dropped low to the frozen earth. Cinnamon pelt hardly blending with the canvas below as they inched closer. Alas, the cries of 'mama, mama' reached his ears and panic seized their throat. A kitten! In this weather? From what he could tell they weren't near old enough to be on their own. Yet his knowledge of kits ended there as he stood up and in front of the bumbling child. Taking in the scene and scents around them as it clicked into place.

An abandoned kittypet. Anger and fret fought a vicious battle in their chest as they looked out into the gloom. Only faint two-leg tracks and the youths own drag marks could be seen. Dogbite's heart ached for the pathetic scrap. I can't leave them here that much is obvious. Sighing aloud the tabby awkwardly attempted to soften their gruff tone. "H-hey it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna get you somewhere safe." They knew no cat would question saving a defenseless kit.

Leaning down they aimed to scoop the frigid youth up. Hoping to tuck them to his chest to fend off the elements around them. I need to get you somewhere warm and fast.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ;
  
  @DAWNGLARE for cold kit!
  
  Hope the power play is alright! If not let me know and I'll fix my post.
• 
  
  
  
  ✧ 30 moons old
  ✧ skyclan warrior
  ✧ he/they ; single
  ✧ child of npc x npc
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric

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[DAWNGLARE]

Dawnglare has forgotten what he came here for, too distracted with fighting off blusters of wind and freshly made powder snow. With a vengeance, the weather had come down on then; as if waiting to drop blankets of snow the very moment leafbare was a cliff they were all teetering off the edge of.

Herbs. that is what he had been here for; to scrounge up the last remainder of tansy and fallen oak leaves before the worst of the season would bite. Evidently, he is already too late. Pink pads sting with frost burns. Every couple of steps, he would pause, if only to wallow in his own, current miserable existence. Had he still a sturdy home within the depths of twolegplace... Had he still had bare, flesh paws to swaddle him in warmth...

Dawnglare is sat lamenting, as Dogbite goes off to do something or other. How is he meant to concern himself as to what, when he can instead look bitterly upon the stems of lungwort he can see beginning to unfurl as they're covered in frost. Of course— of course! Dawnglare ifnds himself turning blazing eyes to the sky, wondering if they were angry, and why?

It is only when the warrior turns back toward him, now with a kit held in his maw, did he startle. And then, anger, " Oh, by the stars, " he hisses. Of all the things they needed, it was certainly not some sniveling kit in the midst of Leafbare. A sigh rattles his lungs, and he prays for strength... for guidance. nervousness— he cannot allow that to be... true.

Silently, he is releaved he had collected lavender only sunrises prior... " Lick them— the wrong way. " with urgency, he tells him. It's something he recalls from his own kithood, a tongue rasping its way across his forehead... They would need to return to camp soon, soon.

A WISE WOMAN SAID I'M ALIVE 🍷 NOBODY'S EVER TOLD HER SHE'S WRONG

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• 

• ( I'M AS ALIVE AS HER BEARD IS LONG ) DAWNGLARE Medicine Cat of SkyClan. Mentoring Fireflypaw
  𓆩♡𓆪 He / him , deeply confused by the use of other pronouns
  𓆩♡𓆪 Currently 60 moons old as of 12.5.2023. Mated to Mallowlark
  
  Unsettling and strange, Dawnglare bears a unique perception to the world and stars above on top of a generally unpleasant disposition. Holds others to uniquely impossible standards and himself undeniably above the rest.
  Mood is decided by dice - rolls per thread, with the exception of some important threads

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[SLATE]

Another unwanted scrap of fur on the edge of SkyClan's territory. Sometimes they were young kittypets curious about the world outside of their dens, sometimes they were rugged and battle-scarred adults who had dragged themselves from the streets to the forest's door. In this instance, they were a little helpless bundle with not even a mother to speak for them.

Slate had not been accompanying Dawnglare on his herb-gathering outing, only on an outing near the borderlands with his apprentice in tow. He valued his solo walks outside of camp, though he was expected to take Cherrypaw out most days solely to shadow him while he went about his duties. Their mini patrol had been pretty quiet so far, with little words outside of the occasional comment or tip exchanged — until now.

The Maine Coon's attention had been grabbed by the sight of the medicine cat and Dogbite fretting over a tiny, snow-dusted kitten. Furrowing his brow, Slate approached them, amber gaze staring down at the helpless thing curiously. "Any scents nearby? Parents?" The lead warrior inquired. Had another clan lost their baby? A loner, maybe? And, most of all, why was SkyClan always responsible for the unwanted?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚

• @Cherrypaw

• 

• 

  ✰ SLATE
  —— he/him; lead warrior of skyclan; former rogue
  —— bisexual; single; not looking
  —— hulking, scarred charcoal-black colored maine coon with amber eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[Cherryblossom]

Cherrypaw is hardly used to silence. The snow makes it somewhat worse, a flimsy excuse for what the mountains had given her. Little Wolf's shadow haunts her more clearly here, outlined in day-blue and pooling in the divots of her footsteps. At least the pines are here to keep her company; their long silhouettes interrupt the monotonous grey of the sky, the familiarity of green the only comfort beyond her and her clanmates' pelts. She wonders what herbs the cinnamon-coated tom swaying ahead of them would even find on their patrol, aside from the scant amount of pine needles to be crushed underfoot and deeper into the snow.

Dogbite has wandered off somewhere, with Dawnglare following. She's so used to the medicine cat's irrational outburts now that she pays it no mind until her mentor takes notice. Gilded eyes, narrowed against the winds, settle upon the mewling bundle with startled concern. "Just a kit?" she muses, mostly to herself. She thinks of Howlfire and Butterflytuft in the nursery, their kittens snug against bellies plump even in the midst of Leaf-bare, and her eyes narrow. Kits, annoying and self-serving, are to be loved and doted on, if not by her, then by their mothers at least.

Slate, seemingly made cooler by the Leaf-bare chill, asks for scents. Clues, to the kit's origins. It's a good idea, she begrudges. Cherrypaw certainly isn't the tracking prowess as she is with climbing, but it wouldn't hurt to do something other than walk around and remember to rub her cheek on stuff. Dogbite's got the kit handled, anyway. "Twolegs, obviously," she meows after a second of twitching her nose. "I can't find anything under this stink," she adds, scrunching her face.​

 

[antpaw.]

A new feline appears, he does little more than regard them with a wide-eyed stare. He doesn't know who it is. Awkward words subdue him. He doesn't know the other, so he shuts his mouth, and keeps it shut. Before he knows it, Dogbite is carrying out his word, and he's lifted, trying hard to stay very, very still. Oh by the stars. As the snow passes beneath him, he receives the sight of the big, frightening new arrival with the same round-eyed reception Dogbite is offered. Dawnglare's seeming disapproval, has him pulling his paws up, close to his soft tummy, exposing the white fluff of his stomach.

Drool leaks from from his mouth, chill prompting it to spill around his underbite. The action is a familiar one, being picked up by the scruff being something every kitten is bound to experience. Hands that have never petted, never touched have lifted him over, so to be grasped by teeth, he's blinking blue eyes. Two more figures appear. Unwilling to open his mouth, he instead draws his paws as close to himself as he can manage, hanging from the jaws of a stranger.

He's always been the most quiet of his siblings, noise invoked by his circumstances. Nearly reaching two moon his vocabulary is sizeable and growing, but he shares none of these words. Two more approach with inquiries, finding the hefty one with amber eyes peering at him frightening, he only stares as Cherrypaw seemingly sniffs around. His pleas have not been answered. None of these cats are his mother.

/ooc feel free to powerplay :)
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[DOGBITE]

✦ It seemed the orphaned kittypet was an eerily quiet one which worried the scarred tabby. At Dawnglare's demand, he makes quick work of the little scrap. Ignoring the other's blatant dismay at finding yet another lost baby. He laid down, stomach seizing from the freeze as he shaped his paws into a halo. Keeping the kit's paws and rump from the cold snow. Dutifully, he sets them down and licks their coat in the opposite direction of their fluffy wavelets. Ignoring any potential whimpers or cries of protest in hopes their icy body would warm up to a reasonable temperature.

Looking up at Slate and his usual rough exterior, he shakes his head with a silent 'no', having already taken a brief scan of the area. Cherrypaw takes up the mantle of ensuring this and the one-eyed warrior watches intently as he works. Feeling the frost leave the small bundle's paws. Leaning back he's bemused to see the orange and white kitten's fur spiking in wild directions. Smiling gently, he gives a quick remark to the shaken-up youth. "There you go, kid. Let's get you out of here." Gathering himself, Dogbite turns his head to address his clanmates. Noting the absence of any disagreement as he went.

Voice firmer and louder than before as the wind picks up. "I didn't smell or spot anything either, so we've no choice but to bring them home." Scooping up the child once more, he gives an affirmative nod toward Dawnglare before setting off. Cinnamon and white frame spotty and distant in the gentle flurry of snow fluttering to the earth.

•°.⋆ INFO

• ooc ;
  
  Out! He has left for camp with the kit.
• 
  
  
  
  ✧ 30 moons old
  ✧ skyclan warrior
  ✧ he/they ; single
  ✧ child of npc x npc
  ✧ "speech", thoughts, attacking
  ✧ peaceful powerplay allowed
  ✧ penned by tasmagoric

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