camp sweet little bumblebee — dove's introduction

[DOVEPAW!]

.you want a battle —————————

————————— i'll give you war.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE BUNDLE OF INKY BLACK AND VELVETY WHITE came stumbling out of the nursery with a quiet oof. His ears swerved on top of his helm with an almost giddy expression at the changes in the weather. He relishes the noticeable shift in temperatures with an excited trill. His willowy tail swept against the ground in tandem with his erratic breathing ( having zipped out of the nursery like a bat out of hell ).

His darkened lips tilted into an almost blinding grin at the bustling camp that lay before him. The kit offered those passing various chirps and trills in greetings as he wiggled about in absolute glee.

The small feline hadn’t been out much, not since getting stuck in the walls of the den during the chaos of dogs attacking the camp, or at least, that’s what he was told. He winced at the memory, shuffling his paws against the ground with a nervous chitter, head tucked into his chest. His ears lay tucked against his helm at the memory, having no desire in remembering.

Dove shook himself out of his stump, kneading the ground with a self-soothed keen that slipped past his parted maw. He was fine! Better than ever! Just a few scraps and bruises (mostly his fault). He was a clumsy kit, tripping over his paws as he ambled about the nursery to run head-first into other felines with a shuttered apology as he dashed away with a hefty glow of his cheeks in embarrassment. Clumsy Dove!

He blinked several times, scanning the camp with a wiggle of his hindquarters, glancing over his shoulder at the nursery with a tilt of his head. He wasn’t too far, but it wouldn’t hurt to venture further out. Right? Right.

The black feline trilled, the sound vibrating the back of his throat making him giggle at the ticklish sensation. His paw came to rub at his neck to soothe the tickling notion, claws getting hooked into willowy fur with a pout on his darkened lips. Oh, shoot. I’m stuck.

Dove let out a whine of discomfort, yanking his claw out while taking several strands of fur with it. Ow. Ow. That hurt. That seriously hurt. Holy heck—“Oh? What’s that?” He muttered, blue optics widening at the sight of the yellow and black insect crawling on the ground. Huh. That’s weird. I wonder what it is.

Can I eat it? No. Never eat something if you don’t know what it is. Rule number one!

I wonder if mama knows what it is. I bet she does! “Mama!” Dove glanced up from his musings, realizing he was further from the nursery than he realized. What if the weird insect disappeared before he got to show mama? He frowned, kneading the ground with a nervous mewl. Why was he worrying so much? He hoped he hadn't annoyed anyone. Oh, dear—Dove sunk into himself, unaware of the bee clambering closer, far too gone inside his head.

If it wasn’t for the sharp, nauseating pain coursing up his paw and down the lengths of his spine, he really wouldn’t have noticed the bee clambering onto his paw. A startled shriek escaped his maw at the pain, jerking his body backward with a whimper.

His owlish hues welled up with unushered tears at the bubbling pain that coursed through his frame, drawing a pitiful sound from the back of his throat. It hurts! He willed the tears from falling, glancing down at his throbbing paw in tandem with the loud beating of his heart. The small kit was unaware of the pitiful sounds that escaped his maw, far too preoccupied with the sudden pain.

Why was it hurting? He didn’t—He didn’t do anything. Dove sniffled. “Hurts.” His tone strained from the force of not letting the tears spill down his cheeks.

thoughts speech​

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[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

Tybalt looked up as the shrill cry of one of the clan’s children met his ears. He turned to see Dovekit whimpering and hurried over to see what was wrong. “What’s the matter?”

He paused to examine the kit’s paw only to see the squashed bee beneath it. “You stepped on a bee,” he observed. He gave the kit a gentle, reassuring nudge. “You’ll be okay,” he assured gently, his gaze falling to the kit’s paw again. He wondered if the stinger was still stuck.

“Can I see?” He asked gently. An unusual display of softness from the usually gruff warrior. “It won’t hurt so much after the stinger is gone.”

 

[FALCONPAW]

Skittering and skattering back and forth the tom is playing with a pebble. It is one he found on his own and really he finds it special to him. But as he plays with the white rock he hears a sudden shrill call and he jerks his head up. At first fear consumes him and the thought of dogs coming back into the camp almost pulls him under. His body shakes for a moment but slowly he realizes that it isn't anything with dogs but something with an injured nurserymate. Those soft blue green eyes look cocerned and he picks up his white pebble as he steps over to where Stagstrike and Dovekit are. With a small smile he drops his treasure and nods brightly. "It won't hurt too bad. Promise!" Gently he nudges his pebble towards Dovekit.

"Here you can have this! It'll make you feel better I'm sure!" The young tom offers as he shuffles a little and sits down. It makes him feel better all the time so he is sure that the other will feel better.​

 

[D U C K]

"YOU ARE THE RIVER OF LIGHT THAT I LOVE"​

Duckkit watched his brother bounce about through half-lidded slits, the dark fur of his face threatening to consume his hay-colored eyes as he drifted to sleep. Such curiosity, such pure excitement about the world around him, where did he muster the energy? The lethargic boy pondered, his thoughts reminiscent of a tired and worn elder rather than the 3 moon old kit that he was. These trivial curiosities buzzed absently in the back of his mind, as he let the quiet happenings around him fade into nothing.

It was only a moment before Duckkit was fully asleep, his eyelids barely fluttering closed before he was startled awake by Dovekit's cry. Emitting a small yelp of surprise, he looked around haphazardly for the source. The initial shock began to wear off, more so with the comfort of seeing two fellow clanmates immediately jump in to help. He allowed himself one final yawn before he headed over himself, coming to stand beside a rock-brandishing Falconkit. Duckkit had not quite figured out what exactly had caused Dovekit harm, but the situation seemed to already be de-escalating from anything serious. "Bee?" he echoed Tybalt "Did it bite you or something?"​

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[DOVEPAW!]

.you want a battle —————————

————————— i'll give you war.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE SMALL FELINE FLINCHED HOLDING HIS PAW CLOSE TO his furred chest, hiding the appendage from the warrior, blinking back the tears ( attempting to, anyway ). His body shivered, curling into himself at the bubbling pain that pulsed from his paw. “S, Sorry—” The male choked, voice trembling from the pain, noting the pooling shame for being so loud. “Sorry.” He mumbled.

His ears flattened against his helm, shuffling to stare at the bee with a whine, glancing up at the warrior with wide, owlish hues. “I–” I didn’t even notice it. “Is it dead?” He whispered, afraid of the answer. He didn’t want it to die! He should have been paying more attention—Stupid, Dove!

“O, Okay.” Dove flinched, offering the warrior a nod with a watery smile, holding out his paw tentatively. Hurts. His mind supplied as a pitiful whine escaped his clenched maw, willowy tail twitching in tandem with the sparks of pain from the bee sting. “Hurts.” He whimpered.

His head tilted, glancing down at the small pebble with curious hues, glancing up at Falcon with a hopeful expression. It won’t hurt too bad, r, right? R, Right! I can be brave! The kit lets out a choked whine, bobbing his head at the other. “T, Thank you.” He mumbled, ruffling his fur at the pebble, uninjured paw reaching out to fiddle with it.

His blue hues flickered up to see his brother, blinking owlishly. Eh?? When did—Dove glanced down at the bee until it landed on his injured paw, ears flattening against his helm. “W, Well … no. I don’t know—Do bees bite?” He glanced up at the warrior for confirmation, gaze widening at the notion of bees biting. “I didn’t … I didn’t see it.” He mumbled. “S, Sorry.” He apologized for nothing in particular.

thoughts speech​

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[Tybalt [Stagstrike]]

The boy let out a whimpered apology, and then asked if the bee was dead. Tybalt's amber gaze travelled to the still insect. It certainly seemed dead. "Probably, buddy," he murmured. "Don't be sorry. You didn't kill it. Even if you'd seen it it might've stung you anyway, and they usually die after they sting you. Bees aren't that smart."

Duckkit appeared, asking if the bee had bitten Dovekit. "It stung him," Tybalt replied. "Bees don't bite." He looked to Dovekit's outstretched paw. "It won't hurt," he promised. "Take a deep breath and it'll be over before you can blink." He paused, waiting for the kit to inhale before taking the stinger between his teeth and pulling it out.

"There," he said, flicking his tail against the kit's shoulder. "Lick it clean and it'll be fine."

 

[Sunfreckle]

There's something heavy in his chest when he sees Dovekit. Wrenflutter's kittens were all healthy and delightful to see around the camp, little birds flocking about and getting into mischief. Sunfreckle tries not to look at the black and white tom kit any differently than his siblings, but the name is a piercing sound that strikes him deep where he once though he didn't hurt any longer. Just hearing it surfaces painful memories, but his smile remains softly placid on his maw despite it. It was not the child's fault nor his mother that the word 'dove' was something akin to claws to his heart. He couldn't begrudge a mother her choices to name her kits, they were all little feathered friends and the theming of them was a precious idea. It stung, but the red tabby knew not to take it personal. It was just a name...

He watches the kitten squeal, sob, cry about a sting to his paw that the other kits and Stagstrike console him on. The pale earthen colored warrior, looking noble like his namesake, even pries the stinger free with a gentleness he didn't expect the usually hotheaded tom to have. It was warming to witness and it was then he slowly made his way over with green eyes honing in on the kit with the hurt paw, a smile dancing across his maw as he glanced to Stagstrike and then back to Dovekit.
"How brave of you, good job! Like he said, lick it well and if it keeps hurting we'll fetch Berryheart to take a look, hm?"
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[DOVEPAW!]

.you want a battle —————————

————————— i'll give you war.

▵ ———————— ◮ ———————— ▵

THE BLACK-AND-WHITE KIT FLINCHED, gaze flickering to stare at the bee with a pitiful whine, ears lying low against his helm. Oh. But, still. He should have been paying more attention, then—Dove squawked, watching with wide optics as Tybalt plucked the stringer from his paw. Ouch. His mind shifted focus to the dulling sensation he now felt afterward, shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you.” He chirped, willowy tail waving. He glanced over at the newcomer, head cocked with a bob of his helm. “Mhm!” He took tentative licks to soothe the sensitive flesh of his darkened paw. It still hurt, but it was manageable. He almost purred if he hadn’t caught himself at the last second, flushing red at the thought of purring in front of everyone.

Dove shuffled, pressing the injured appendage to the ground, tongue poking out in concentration before letting out a satisfied trill, tail flickering. “It doesn’t hurt that bad!” He glanced up at Sunfreckle with a wobbly grin upon his freckled muzzle. I don’t want to bother them with something like this, anyway. He thought with a puff of his cheeks. It was a silly thing to cry over, too. It made the tom wince in embarrassment now that the pain wasn’t as severe.

“Ah—T, Thank you!” He offered everyone a wide-grin, owlish hues brimming with appreciation to everyone that helped. “S, Sorry for causing any t, trouble.” He shuffled, kneading the ground with his claws.

thoughts speech​

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