pafp TEK IT ♥︎ MOSSBALL

[DOEBLAZE]

The three kits their newest joiner had towed into camp with her are a wide - eyed and skinny bunch, their small pink - tinged paws gathered close together, tufted little heads swinging from side to side as if they might be suddenly thrust from their newfound sanctuary back out into the sharpness of the wild. The little blue - silvered torbie she - kit, in particular, speaks to Doeblaze in much of the same odd kinship of suffering that had let her extend a shaky lifeline to Lovage.

As - yet unaware of Oleanderkit's impending frigidity, she feels a sort of pity for the rheumy - eyed child with mucus crusting her cut nose. It is no easy feat to integrate oneself into an entirely new community, she knows; it must be twice as hard when one is so small, having known a life of only turbulence. SkyClan has grown, too, its numbers inflated since her own joining ( an effort she can attribute in part to her own litters ), meaning camp is likely more cats than these kits have ever seen in their lives.

" Hello, Oleanderkit, " she mrrows as her shaggy head crooks around the edge of the nursery's mouth, blinking her eye in what she prays is a welcoming manner ( it's more difficult to be expressive with only the one, unfortunately ). A freshly rolled mossball is pinned under one calloused white paw; for what better way to entice a kit than the promise of a game? An ivory - spotted tail flickers behind her and the tabby leans down slightly to near the child's level, meowing hopefully, " Would you like to learn how to play mossball? "

The fundamental game and favorite pasttime of Clan kits, the simple playtime had the double advantage of honing one's paw - eye coordination early, preparing kittens for their future chasing mice and leaping between branches. Over the past half - year since she'd lost it, Doeblaze has mostly adapted to the loss of her eye, though she still struggles to nail exactly how far a particular bough might be—so the game might be equally beneficial for her.

Once she receives something like an affirmative from the kit, she backs up and gives the mossball a gentle whack with one tufted forepaw, sending it bouncing - slash - rolling towards @Oleanderkit. " You hit it back to me, and then I'll hit it back to you, " Doeblaze mrrows in explanation. She's seen the game contort in a variety of inventive ways under the arduous paws of the Clan's young, but she figures it's best not to overload Oleanderkit with all of that right now. " And we can just keep going like that, or I can start hitting it harder if you'd like. "

OOC : Please wait for Oleanderkit to post!

♥︎

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[Oleanderkit]

Oleander (Oleanderkit, Lovage tells her over and over) likes Doeblaze. She'd been one of the first cats to greet her when her little family had huddled at SkyClan's border, future tenuous as sinew. Her earth-and-salt pelt is shaggy, but not in a way that suggests dishevelment; rather, her body looks lived in, as all bodies ought to. Weathered at its edges. Decidedly motherly, though Oleander distinctly does not think of her as a mother. That privilege is reserved for Lovage, and Lovage alone, of course.

When Doeblaze invites Oleander (Oleanderkit, she addresses to the girl's chagrin) to a game, she is first met merely with a quizzical look.

Her cream-dashed head cocks as her Venus-foam gaze falls on the mossball pinned underpaw. This peculiar arrangement of moss does not titillate her. In response to Doeblaze's invitation, Oleander decides, "Not really." She is not aware of herself. Or, if her kitten facilities are aware of the axe-chop rudeness she'd just issued the first kind face she'd seen, then she does not give much mind to it. She'd only ever seen moss line the nests of her old colony. Games weren't completely foreign, but they weren't common — and they certainly were not more enticing than spending hours on end staring at ant hills, or squashing beetles, or being scolded for no real reason. Answer given, Oleander returns to herself, watching the ways her toes wiggle and assessing the amount of discomfort it brings her warm, achey body.

This lasts only a few minutes. Doeblaze lingers in the corners of her vision, paw still squishing that lump of green. The scarred woman's persistent existence finally pulls Oleander back into focus, pink-rimmed eyes flicking up to the lonely olive pit in her face. "Um. Maybe," she eventually concedes.

The game comes quicker than the instruction. Doeblaze's lob of the ball strikes Ollie square in the arm, the force like a petal in the wind. It's very soft. Oleander unscrews her face from its instinctual wince, though she takes a moment to understand the basics of this game. The ball has been hit towards her — there is only one, very simple course of action to follow. Eat it. No, wait, that's not what she said. After a prolonged, awkward heartbeat, Oleander strikes the ball back in the direction it came from.

It crawls pitifully towards Doeblaze, as a parched man might crawl pitifully through a desert. It ends up a good tail-length to her left.

Despite this, Oleander is pleased with herself. "I hit it," she says helpfully, in case anyone wasn't watching the several moments it took for the mossball to end its journey. She grins, pink onionskin lips pulling mirthfully away from milk teeth. "Was that good?"

𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓 𓆱 . ݁˖ . ݁𓆸

• ooc.
  
• OLEANDERKIT —— kit of skyclan . lovage x laurel . littermate to birchkit and mercurykit ✦ penned by meghan
  
  ✦ a willowy silver blue ticked torbie with low white and seafoam eyes. lonerborn, oleander struggles to learn the ropes of clan life while coping with anxiety and past trauma. may seem strange, and has unconventional hobbies.
  ✦ girl / she her pronouns / undiscovered sexuality / 02 moons & ages every 20th
  ✦ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / underline & tag account when attacking
  —— will not start fights / will flee / will show mercy. a mere kitten, she cannot defend herself in battle.
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, all opinions are in character
  ✦ full biography — msg on discord for plots — toyhouse
  

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[DOEBLAZE]

The sniffling kitten does not immediately express much interest in the game—quite the opposite, in fact, answering with a noncommital dismissal. Doeblaze is not offended, really; tactlessness is a child's gift, and though it is an endless thorn in her paw when dealing with the likes of Slate or Silversmoke, she finds it almost charming when juxtaposed with this lopsided, rheumy - eyed child. She cannot begrudge her much; Oleanderkit is a new arrival, the sightless strands of her mind still coalescing into the tapestry of her personality, ready to be rewoven and picked over throughout her life. Also, if Doeblaze could not deal with a rude child, then she would have fallen many moons ago ( Crowsight had been much the same, after all ), far before facing worse hurdles.

As such, she merely waits patiently, tail keeping time in its idle swishes behind her and amusement curving the tropical basin of her lone eye upwards. Eventually, as distant children are apt to do, Oleanderkit meanders back into the realized world of pine - scent and lush greenery around her, and Doeblaze remains present in it, waiting with her pale, tufted paw resting on the tightly packed bundle of moss. She concedes, then, and the game opens with the warrior's beginning hit. It sails towards Oleanderkit in a gentle arc, the soft strike of a former queen driving it, finding its mark on a silvered forelimb and pulling the girl's face into a wince that makes Doeblaze's own nose - bridge rumple in momentary concern.

Oleanderkit bats it back, though, after a moment of awkward silence, the ball trickling pitifully towards her, as a lonely rivulet struggling down a relaxed slope—but it gets there eventually, as all things do. It's the length of a fuller tail than hers away, and now she really does work to keep the mild humor off her face as Oleanderkit makes a childishly pleased observation. " It was a good try, " she answers hoarsely, not wanting to wipe the girl's pleased expression off her face but also not quite having the heart to totally lie to her. " Especially for your first time playing mossball. "

Doeblaze then makes her way over to the plaything, which had at somepoint lost its course, and delivers another velvety whack, sending the little bundle sailing through the air anew. White - crowned ears flick, seaglass eye turning towards whomever has chosen to spectate their little game, and she mrrows, " Care to join in? "

OOC : —

♥︎

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[mercurykit]

Familiar voice of their sibling beckons them towards the newly-beginning game of mossball. It’s not something that Mercury recognizes, having never seen a game such as this before. Their head is on swivel as their gaze locks onto the ball of moss, following it from one cat to the other, then back. A voice pipes up, breaking their concentration, and their ears perk up at the offer. ”Yeah!” they cheer with a big wiggle of their body, not hesitating to lunge at the ball mid-roll and smack it back at Doeblaze with rather good aim for a kitten their size. There’s a brightly lit grin on their face as they then proceed to chase after the ball they’ve hit, not quite understanding the whole of the game yet, having not been listening for the explanation. They pounce forwards, grabbing the ball again just as it’s about to tap Doeblaze, chomping down on the ball with a bright expression plastered across their features.​

 

[HAWKSPINE]

Hawkpaw remembers the period of time during which he'd found mossball endlessly boring. It had come towards the end of his stint in the nursery, a moon before his apprenticeship, tucked close to Howlfire's side and turning his nose up at the way his mother was trying to coax Antkit into playing. Plumy tail swishes, a kitlike glee crossing scarred features as hazel eyes fixate on the scene before him. Mercurykit chases the ball that they've just swatted back to Doeblaze, and Hawkpaw follows suit with his tail raised high in greeting.

"Nice!" He chirps, planting his paws shoulder-width apart. An intimidating figure, nearly full grown, but practically vibrating with excitement. It's weird to see the new kits, eye colours starting to come in, but seeming so small in comparison. Hawkpaw almost doesn't believe that was him, once. "Now smack the mossball to someone else, or you can try to get it back!"

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[ODDGLEAM]

He remembers a time when, he enjoyed playing mossball with other stray kittens in the alleyways of Twolegplace. He had enjoyed the pleasures of playing with a soft, green ball. A fundamental game and a pasttime for bored kits. Oddgleam observes, as the scarred form of Doeblaze approaches one of the kits with an explanation on how to play.

The pale - patched calico finds himself drifting towards the gathering cat with a hum. The corner of his lip quirks up in amusement, copper eyes watching Mercurykit pounce on the mossball. Oh, the wonders of kithood. "Ah, the wonders of mossball." He chirps, greeting Hawkpaw and Doeblaze with a lift of his tail while he roams over to them. He plants himself onto his haunches, letting his tail swish over the grass behind him.

A mismatched ear flicks towards Hawkpaw, agreeing with the apprentice with a nod. He peers down at Mercurykit with a bright smile. "Agreeing with Hawkpaw, pass it to someone!" His tail twitches behind him in excitement. He hasn't played mossball in a long while, it's a fun game to pass the time when you're bored.

COLORFUL STATE OF MIND ˚⊹♡ THE CHIMERICAL OVERDOSE ON LOVING

•  
• 
• ( bad attitude, actin real goofy ) ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ODDGLEAM. ╱ skyclan warrior.
  ♡ non-binary ; HE / THEY, fine with gendered terms. ; 16 MOONS & AGES EVERY 7TH.
  ♡ bi-pan / polyamorous / padding after crowsight & owlheart
  ♡ pretty, long-legged medium furred sliver-cream calico with copper eyes.
  ♡ battle notes — thoughts ; "Speech, ac7d88" ; attacks only
  ♡ may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  ♡ smells like caramel frappe & chilled stone
  — all opinions are ic
  
  — biography / @ on discord for plots
  — penned by calzone
  

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