pafp the bells of notre dame | playtime

[RAVENSONG]

The morning is bright. The birds are singing. It was perfect—apart from the fact that they were still not in their proper camp. Although the feline was a notorious drypaw, he found with every passing day that he missed the thrum of the river around their camp banks. It was prettier over there. Ravenpa could appreciate that. Of course, there was also the claustrophobic sense of not being where one belongs. With each new batch of herbs Beesong and he gathered, Ravenpaw could feel his chest tighten and bristle with annoyance that they would have to transport it back into their proper den.

He sighed loudly, keeping his paws tucked in as he let the sun pelt down on his fur. Finally relieved from his duties for just a moment, the black cat decided to use those precious moments to sun himself. If he closed his eyes and kept his ears back, the adults and sensible apprentices would keep away from him. However, he had forgotten to account for one rank of Clan life—the littlest ones.

Ravenpaw leaned his head forward, chin resting on the ground as his bushy tail flicked back and forth in lazy concentration—an otherwise very open invitation for curious kittens to play with him, even if Ravenpaw did not know. The bird song would put him to sleep at any moment now.


// wait for @meadowkit to Reply!

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[meadowheart]

TAGS — An invitation it is-- and Meadowkit is eager to accept. His own thoughts remain largely unburdened by the strange circumstances in which the RiverClanners have found themselves. Sure, his parents often tell him of their excitement to teach him and his sisters how to swim once they're all settled in again, but the distinct lack of a river in RiverClan's temporary camp is all that Meadowkit has known in his short life. There are some days that he feels he ought to give up on ever seeing it at all-- but at least he doesn't know to miss it yet.

So instead the young boy stalks Ravenpaw's wagging tail; and he's so good at it, too, because Ravenpaw hasn't even noticed him. Surely Lightningstone and Buckgait would see this moment and feel nothing but pride swell in their chests. He's almost an apprentice, and he's certain to out-perform his peers already! That's what he's thinking, anyway, smoked-fawn underbelly hardly brushing the grass beneath him while mantis-green eyes fix intently on the back-and-forth sway of Ravenpaw's tail.

And then, he pounces, catching the tip and batting at it harmlessly. "Got it!" Meadowkit cries triumphantly, eyes lighting up with pride. "I got it!" And he's not paying much mind to the cat that it's attached to-- at least, it seems that way, until he flicks his focus to Ravenpaw's face. "Were you surprised? 'M gonna be so good at hunting. Gonna catch tons 'f fish and stuff...." He trails off then, apparently lost to piscine visions of his future. Though, of course, he keeps a fast hold on his won prey, so long as Ravenpaw doesn't shake him off.​

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[iciclefang]

Iciclefang watches from just inside the temporary medicine cat's den. Her attention is primarily on the warriors and apprentices padding off toward the riverlands with training or hunting in mind. Her claws involuntarily unsheathe with longing so deep it aches in her veins. She hates being immobile, being left to her own thoughts to wallow about in like a kit splashing in a puddle.

Speaking of... her pale blue gaze flicks to Ravenpaw's twitching tail, and the little fawn-colored kit enraptured by it. She huffs with amusement, electing to hold her tongue. Let the little scrap practice. It's good for them, isn't it?

Meadowkit catches the tail, alright, and he crows about how he's going to be so good at hunting and fishing. Iciclefang is reminded sharply of days long gone, tumbling about with her littermates in the nursery. A nursery these poor kits have never even known.

"I'm sure you are," she says. "You know what the most important thing is for hunting and fishing, though? Besides being quiet." She raises an eyebrow.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

 

[RAVENSONG]

Ravenpaw's eyes fly open at a sudden sensation that grasped at the tip of his tail. His heart lurches and he glances back to see the silvery fawn kitten of Lightningstone and Buckgait pounce on the end of it. Ravenpaw's tail twitched in Meadowkit's grasp like a piece of prey fighting for the last strands of life, but despite his normal distaste toward kits, something makes his heart soften at the boy's innocent look and proud smile.

Ravenpaw strangely admired the kit's mother, in the sense that he knew he could never be like her. Buckgait was wild and free—but she existed in a sort of strange tension where she was too wild to fit into Clan life properly, just as Ravenpaw had been seen as too soft to be in Clan life. He did not know what the former deputy thought of him other than she believed that he ought to swim.

"Oh, quite." Ravenpaw purred, looking up just in time to catch Iciclefang's sharp gaze from the medicine cat den. "You do have hunter's blood running through you." That much was true. Ravenpaw twitched his tail again, inviting the kit to hold fast to twitching prey. Fish could be slimey. "Iciclefang is an amazing resource for hunting lessons... but if you ever feel the need, you can practice on me." For a brief moment, his maw broke into a smile.

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