Starman || o, intro!




Being only 3 moons old meant the most exciting part of Seedkit's daily routine was flipping over rocks. Every day, from sunrise to sundown, he would circle the confines of camp and tirelessly paw at stones until their mystical undersides were revealed. It wasn't much, but it was honest work. What bug will it be this time? A Beatle? An ant? A centipede, if he was lucky? Seedkit hoped for all of the above (although he was partial to slugs himself).

However today was special. Seedkit had just about explored every corner of the camp, but the warrior's den was something he avoided at all cost. Warriors are big and scary. Their ears fit their head and they know what big words like "incredulous" mean. Today was the day though, he was going to flip all the rocks near their den. Where did this sudden inspiration come from? The day prior, while munching on some most delicious fish, Seedkit came to the horrifying realization there was an untapped bug potential behind the warriors den. He had always been so overcome with his fear of the cats sleeping in the warrior's den, that he'd never stopped to think about the warrior's den itself.

Waking up nice and early, Seedkit looked up at the overcast sky and smiled. Perfect bug weather. Turning to his left (or perhaps it was his right? he had yet to learn the difference) he took a cautious step towards the den, and then another, and then another. Until there he was, standing before the gaping entrance to the warrior's den. Sleeping toms and she-cat alike were oblivious to Seedkit's presence, and he would rather it stay that way. Creeping stealthily past them, he found his way to the back of the den. There, in the dim early morning lighting, he spotted a nice, big stone. All his for turning. With some not-so-clever footwork and a whole lot of grunting, there it was.

The biggest slug Seedkit had ever seen, possibly the biggest in the world for all he knew. He stumbled to the side, rolling over such a big rock had taken some out of him, but the sight of this slug made him feel as though he were about to faint. Trying his best to stabilize and re-support himself with his comically large paws, Seedkit marveled at his new friend. Head tilting to the side, Seedkit stumbled a little closer. "Hello," he honked, a bit louder than expected. The slug stayed still, not even acknowledging his presence. Seedkit was usually the quiet type, but bugs tended to bring out his rowdy side. "HELLO!" he fully yelled this time. The slug lazily flickered its antenna. Seedkit stumbled back into a sitting position and watched his new best friend as it wiggled around. Yeah, this was gonna be a great day.

((( Sorry i wasnt more clear on this but he is behind the den, not inside it! idk if i wrote that out properly oof
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With slitted pale eyes, Iciclekit watches through a sleepy haze as one of her denmates leaves the nursery under cover of dawn. Seedkit, one of the tomkits she finds downright bizarre. She supposes all of them so far have been... Fernkit and Dark-kit are absolutely not exceptions to the rule.

She rises to her snowy paws, quietly sneaking around the slumbering bodies of her siblings. Curiosity piqued, she peers around the corner after creeping outside. The air is still cool, for now, and there's a wondrous tang in the air from the river near their camp.

But she's watching one peculiar tabby kit sneak behind the warrior's den. She follows, tail lifted high and ears pricked. What could he be doing up so early? What was so important? Why wasn't he asleep? She kind of wished she was still asleep, but as she's aged, it's become harder to ignore what's going on around her.

And then she watches him. His paws grip stones and flip them onto their sides, and then he peers down at whatever slimy creature resides beneath. He even talks to them. It's downright Dark-kit behavior, though it seems Seedkit is more interested in the bugs than the rocks.

"You're being too loud," she comments casually without announcing herself. "They're gonna wake up and yell at you for shouting at bugs."


− ♱ ABOUT : it seemed only yesterday that icesparkle had given birth ; her litter of kits grew stronger with each passing day, personalities developing and lives shaping with each choice they made. the riverclan leader could not help stopping by the check on them every once in a while, always carrying with him an offering so his too - tall form wasn't too much of an intrusion on their space. today, as the first pastel hues of dawn begin to paint broad across the cloudy heavens, he carries back a ball of sodden moss held gentle between the ivory of his teeth. for the queens as they wake, and a plaything for the kittens once dried. he'd forgotten how much fun it was to spend time with the kittens, his past moons spent so fervently afraid of starvation that he couldn't find it in him to be sociable. the mottled tom had not expected any of the youth to be awake just yet, which is why he startles in the slightest at the loud, firm shout resonating from just behind the newly - constructed nursery.

" good morning, seedkit! " cicadastar purrs, placing the mossball down to smile bright at the small tomkit. not one of mudpelt and icespaprkles, but a promising riverclanner all the same. he glances down, eyeing the slug he'd uncovered with the slightest quirk of his brow. the man settles on his stomach, leaning forward to peer at the insect with similar curiosity to the youth," looks like you've made a friend. " iceiclekit speaks and his ear quirks, gaze drifting to where the kits lie piled, resting in some state or the other. the tortoiseshell girl, however, eyed them with a rustled irritation. he finds himself stifling a chuckle despite it, tail flicking in amusement, " i'm sure it can still hear you if we use our quiet voices. " he hushes his tone dramatically, giving a short nod. even he would not be spared the wrath of a roused queen, and he was not too keen on spending his early morning being scolded for disrupting what little sleep the mollies got.

  • CICADA ; he / him, roughly thirty seven months old, riverclan leader
    − tall black smoke tortie chimera with icecap eyes and curly fur, homosexual
    − speaks with a german accent, former marshlander, penned by antlers

  • none.

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  • Haha
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( ᴛᴀɢs. )  ❝  "What the fuck," is how Hound greets this fine morning. Sleep'd been a rare enough thing that he began to regret how easily he stirred at every given sound. He's jolted awake at the cracking echo of a child's greeting, an' he half expects to see it right as he opens his eyes. There's nothing there 'sides a few other rousing warriors, bleary-eyed and grumpy-mouthed. No kittens running between their nests or curling under their paws, nobody searching out their father's comfort. So they must've been even louder than originally expected. It was damn impressive, in truth. Least it sounds like nobody was in trouble– even still, he's compelled to explore. As some'f the others try to fight their way back to sleep, the chocolate tabby finds his paws. His thick fur's a morning mess, ruffles 'round his throat and rump. He halfheartedly smooths some of them within the pauses of his stride.

Still looks ridiculous by the time he rounds the den to find the kittens, 'course. And just his luck, it's Cicada standing there with them. He's still squinting with sleep, messy as can be, and their leader gets to see all of it. He contemplates jumping into the river, but he's already here. No point in that now. "You're some kind'f loud," he mumbles, a gentle grouse. "What're you all even speaking to?" He takes a few steps closer, though his careful not to bump into Cicada or crowd either of the kittens.

  • 50335651_ibz4tSApItgOjRI.png
  • ──── hound. trans male, he/him pronouns only.
    ──── approximately 30 moons old, or 2.5 years.
    ──── bisexual with firm male preference; single.

    ──── a chocolate tabby with ( stylized ) low white and intense lime eyes. lean and lanky,  with whiplike musculature and a long, quick stride. hound's notable features include his impressive height, the long scar across the left side of his face from nose to jaw, his very deep, dense fur, and the confident manner with which he conducts himself.
  • "speech"
Darkkit's eyes crack open as the nest shifts, a snore dying in his throat as he's thrust into wakefulness. Through the bleariness of lingering sleep, he sees Iciclekit, following the tail of another denmate out into the camp. A lazy smile lifts the corners of his lips, his head popping up. The paw that rests over his special pebble draws away, replaced by teeth as he picks it up. And after his sister he goes, his tail curled over his back and his eyes gleaming.

The sheer size of the camp still amazes him. The nursery is so small, so cozy, so homey. But the camp is huge, guarded by reeds and sedge that even tower over him, and Papa says that he's a big, strong young tom! But none's as big as the willow tree that Cicadastar lives in. His neck cranes to stare up at it's overhanging leaves fluttering in the cool morning breeze, his eyes wide with wonder. StarClan blessed! One day he will sit upon those sacred branches!

Oh, he's falling behind! Darkkit blinks, scampering after his sister and Seedkit as they disappear behind the warriors den. What are they doing behind the warriors den? Perhaps playing hide and seek? Darkkit is very good at hide and seek! But, if they are playing hide and seek, they're doing it all wrong, because Seedkit screams! Everyone would know where he is, now!

No, they must not be playing hide and seek. No one could be that terrible!

Darkkit delicately places the pebble at his paws before he takes a deep breath and screams, too; "HELLO!" Then, he tilts his head, his hindquarters thumping on the ground as he sits. "What're we yelling for? Are we saying good morning to StarClan?"

Iciclekit, in typical Iciclekit fashion, doesn't seem to understand the importance of this activity. That's okay, though! Not everyone could be endowed with divine knowledge like him! She says that they're being too loud, that they're gonna wake up and yell at them for... shouting at bugs. Oh! That's when he notices it, a slug that... What is it that slugs do? Well, whatever they do, it's doing it at Seedkit's paws. Darkkit gasps. "A friend!"

That's when Mr. Cicadastar appears, with Hound right behind him. Darkkit looks up at the two adults with a dopey smile still on his face. "Hi, Mister Cicadastar! Hi, Hound!" He doesn't seem to notice, or doesn't seem to care about, the grumpy look on Hound's face. Hound questions what they're talking to, and Darkkit points to the slug with one paw. "Our new friend." Then, Mr. Cicadastar tells the kittens that it could still hear them with their quiet voices. That makes sense to Darkkit, because Mr. Cicadastar has been blessed by StarClan so he must know everything! "Okay!" Darkkit chirps, rolling his pebble closer to the slug until he's near enough to crouch down and whisper. "Hi, friend."

Peachpaw lifted her head from the furry paws of ( @tinyleafs ) Ashkit as she heard the loud yell of her brother, ears perking up- why was he shouting greetings? Was he deaf? No, he could hear just fine. She giggled at her own thoughts before she stood up, making sure Ashkit was firmly planted on her back before she walked over to the back of the nursery. The sight of Cicadastar causes her to panic a bit, lowering her head in greeting to their Leader before she shuffled past the group of cats to check on her brother.

A slug. He was yelling at a slug.

"Do you want me to beat it up, baby brother?" She asks the smaller kit, eyes blinking. She wasn't much older than Seedkit was, after all, but she was much bigger. For some reason, she was a pretty big cat for her age- she wondered why.