sweet little bumble bee 亗 exploring

[Sweetpaw]

Into the open inky blackness they step, tiny paws tumbling along as they catch on the lip of the medicine cat den and wander outward into where the heat rolls downward upon their back and warms them; it feels nice here instead of the cold dark of the nursery where the sound of other kits mewling and making mischief have sent them scurrying for somewhere more peaceful to rest. No voice calls their name nor catches them with teeth in the scruff to yank back inside so they are emboldened forward to adventure more. Sweetkit dips their face low to the ground, whiskers brushing the dirt and nose thrust forward to scent the familiarity that they have come to know as ShadowClan. Something brushes along their side and they pause, cheek rubbing against the surface to find the warm flat stones nearby that many would rest when the sun was highest; with how hot it is now they are grateful to not witness the blaze of heat that would spiral down and cast everything into a fire. Shaky paws keep them trotting along, pausing every so often to snuff about the dirt and rub against a random surface to familiarize themselves with the camps outline. The medicine cat den is in the other direction, aromatic and thick with plant smell, the warrior's den smells of stale prey and moss depending on the time of day; depending on when nests have been changed. And here before Sweetkit is the bramble thicket, the wall of sharp thorns that urge them to push no further, the shrill cry from Screechkit the day they discovered it was a lesson forever burned into their mind. The tiny black kitten would not touch the wall, would not induce that copper scent of pain willingly. So they turned and toddled along more to continue exploring, stumbling as paws catch over a wayward branch and their face smashes into the ground; unsure of what had done so, the kitten squeals in horror at the 'beast' that had just assaulted them.
"I'm dying! I'm dying!"
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[GHOSTMASK]

†——
ghostkit is drifting listlessly about the camp, bored out of her mind. she hates being bored, almost as much as she hates being hot or cold or sticky. she wants entertainment, for starclan's sake; she wants to be amused, to be impressed. the sun presses a distasteful warmth into her back until it seems to reach her bones, half-entertaining the idea of retreating to the stone coolness of the medicine den where she gets to live. the she-kit tosses a growing dark fringe out of her pale face, wondering faintly whether she ought to go talk to someone. when she'd given needledrift that present, everyone there had heaped praise upon her instead of scolding; a welcome change.

that, and it had entertained her. to see how needledrift's face lit up at the gift, and ghostkit could go on thinking she was dumb on the inside and needledrift would never know.

a loud squeal and a thump breaks her from these thoughts, a masked face snapping sideways to spot a dark-furred shape. it's sweetkit; the idiot kit who'd almost run into the bramble wall, one of forestshade's—the torbie's entire brood is made up of useless lumps of flesh, if you asked ghostkit. she moves fluidly, serpentine like her father, over to sweetkit, unfazed by their screeches. they can't see the disgust that crumples her muzzle before she quickly wrangles it into a blank slate, she realizes, looking down at them. she almost says what she thinks, that they're a waste of shadowclan's space with their brainlessness, but something stops the barbed words on her tongue.

she remembers the scoldings. she remembers the praise, the entertainment.

"sweetkit, you silly, it's just a branch." when she speaks, she finds her voice hitting just the right note, eerily perfect; a mixture of concern and friendly joking, carrying none of the audible poison of their last interaction. she smiles, though they can't see it, moving closer to try and help them up, if they'll permit it.. dark blue eyes flick around to see if anyone is watching this, watching her, as she mews again, this time lacing her tone with an empathetic worry, "is your face okay?"

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┏━•†˚୨୧⋆ OOC ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ INFORMATION ⋆୨୧˚†•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ ༘*.ﾟ

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• † ghostkit — named after the deceased ghostpaw she/her ; afab cisgender female — shadowclan — kit — 2 ☾s —— ghostkit is the daughter of the soft-spoken medicine cat starlingheart and her possessive mate, granitepelt. she looks just like her mother, and while she can be a little difficult, there's nothing really wrong with her ...... right? —— smells like milk, herbs, and .... iron? ; sounds like tbd ; speech in #EB80B7 ; thoughts in #253DC6 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won't start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim (kitten) —— too young for romance ; open to enemies, "friends", tormenting other kits, plotting ; not open to battles, romance penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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[S A B L E T U F T]

can we leave it behind? — The trills and playtime laughter had become a cycled continuation, feeling as though it went on endlessly now. Sabletuft could hardly believe a time kittens weren't running rampant in their camp. Having to make careful steps whenever he hauled in prey, lest he get his tail bitten off for being careless. The early rise of mewling complaints all the way to the whining protests for going to bed, Sabletuft had learned to simply tune out. It was as typical as birdsong now.

That is why, when Sweetkit initially yelped and fell, he did not react quickly. The 'thud' of impact was hardly acknowledged, not even a twitch of his ear. Sabletuft was rather focused on enjoying the shrew beneath his paws instead.

When another join piped up, is your face okay?, did Sabletuft pull his eyes away from his meal and onto the pair. There was a short pause as he assessed scene, debating if it was worthy getting up from his position. He figured with Sweetkit's circumstance, it was inevitable until he was more familiar with the clearing. Knowing the layout of the dens and anticipating the hidden bumps within the clearing would only come with time.

"Be more careful next time." Was his distant response, already returning to his meal. — tags​

 

[NETTLEPAW ♡]

The sun was nice... blessed with a ruddy pelt rather than his mother's heat-absorbing shadow, Nettlekit had found himself quite receptive to sunbathing. And- if one were to ask him, he'd say it made his fur glow quite nicely, too...

Sweetkit's yell caught his attention- fluttered clear-sky eyes wide, well-and-truly awake, instantly scanning the camp from where he lay. Forestshade's kit was laid upon the ground, apparently having fallen from what he could surmise- and he could already see Ghostkit snaking her way over there, asking with a poised kindness whether they were alright. Curious, he was soon to approach too, a snowy ear flicking at Sabletuft's comment.

"Oh- yeah, you okay?" The sweetness of his intentions were for less perfectly portrayed than his sister's- flawed in the easiness with which he uttered it, almost too relaxed, but genuine in worry. He met Ghostkit's gaze for a second, before it fell back to Sweetkit. "Wanna go somewhere there's no branches?"​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart watches her kits through half-lidded green eyes. From her place in the shade, a respite from the sun that beats down relentlessly on them she can see their forms toddling about. It was hard work, caring for three kits, raising them and guiding them so that they may excel once they left the nest and traded in the medicine cats den for the apprentices. She wonders briefly how they will each react when the time inevitably comes... That would not be for a while yet she reasoned. Perhaps by then they would be ready.

As she watches, Sweetkit, one of Forestshade's litter, wanders around camp. She thinks little of it, she would watch them out of the corner of her eyes and they would be safe here, it was camp after all. For a moment, she tears her eyes away to glance up at the sky as a bird flits overhead. It is in that one moment that she has dared look away that a cry comes out. She snaps her head to the sound and is surprised to find Sweetkit sprawled out on the ground, proclaiming they are dying. The black and white medicine cat is already scrambling to her paws, but her children beat her to it. She watches in surprise as Ghostkit of all her children comes to the other kits rescue. Nevertheless, she is proud of her kits for demonstrating kindness. She settles back into her place, content to let them sort things out between them.
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[SCREECHSTORM]

"You don't look like you're dying," Screechkit says of his sibling, the sightless kit squealing as they lay on the ground. Screechkit had been off on his own adventure around the camp when Sweetkit's cries had burst through the air - a startling noise, one that made him stop what he was doing to investigate what happened.

Is Forestshade sure she didn't actually switch the two of them? That Sweetkit wasn't the one named Screechkit from the start?

Then again, maybe his littermate is dying. Screechkit wouldn't know; he's never seen someone die before. Before he has time to panic - to maybe get some help for Sweetkit - Ghostkit and Nettlekit are already on their way over.

And oh, of course, it's just a branch - a branch wouldn't kill Sweetkit, right? His sibling seems fine, aside from the insistence that they're dying.

Nettlekit suggests going elsewhere, away from any branches. That doesn't sound like fun, a boring empty space! Imagine all the games they could come up with now that they've got this new structure in front of them! So many more options, than that of a clearing!

"Oh, come on! That's no fun! We can use this thing!" he protests, "We can use it as a... uhm... a meeting spot! Or... Or we can..." he trails off, trying to come up with other ideas for the wayward obstacle but ultimately giving up with a shrug.

"We just gotta make sure Sweetkit knows it's there."
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[FERNDANCE]

"Hello Dying, I am Ferndance." Ferndance decided to blame the crickets chirping on ShadowClan's general ambiance as she joked, deciding that hurt less than it falling on deaf ears. There was an inevitability to Sweetkit's confusion that almost seemed melancholy, without being careful and without the right support, they were likely to bump into obstacles that other ShadowClanners took for granted. Still, out of all clans, the little kitten was lucky to be born into one that favoured the shadows the most - when the time came for them to become an apprentice, at least they wouldn't have to worry about catching scentless fish or chasing squirrels up confusing trees. There was a discussion between denmates that, for any other cat, may have been awkward to intervene in. But, with a rooster's strut and a big old smile on her face, the Lead Warrior decided she was not like any other cat. "Maybe lead with your paws little one... and not your face," she suggested quietly, raising her own alabaster paw to give and reaching out to give an example. Upon realising her mistake, her ears flattened and, with one quick movement, she aimed to swipe a paw beneath Sweetkit's and raise it so they could get the impression of what she was doing.


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