private three pieces of plastic and a pen // gifts

PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS
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periwinklebreeze 22 moons demi-boy windclan queen
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While it's not entirely strange or odd to see the queen with a pile of trinkets at his paws, the strange grouping of cats sat before him is. Periwinklebreeze has always loved giving gifts - from picking flowers and weeds to give his mother as a kitten, to the pale purple bloom his sister had given him as a consolation for living him behind in the medicine den to start her own apprenticeship - there was really nothing that meant more to him than giving, sharing, little trinkets and keepsakes and toys and treasures. It is perhaps, why more than any wound that had been inflicted upon his pale frame, it'd been the loss of his keepsakes - feather, shell, flower, furs - in the rogue raids and sootstars reign that had hurt him most. Dying blossoms tangled in his fur are all hat remains of what was, and it's only fitting to start again.

A pile of assorted 'goodies', each carefully plucked with thought and consideration for the ragtag group assembled before him. The first is a given - dustkit's tiny frame mimicking his own despite their lack of shared blood and drastically different shades of eyes. Bilberrykit too, makes a certain amount of sense - to spoil his kits, especially given his newfound status as queen is only a given. It's the third of the group that's a little odd - neither a kit nor his blood. But sheeppaw had always been a bit special, even if periwinklebreeze hadn't said as much aloud. That same sort of instant fascination, of affection and awe he'd once felt peering down at the blonde bundle that was thriftfeather had reared it's head once more, and while sheeppaw laid claim to a loving family and a mentor who wasn't him, he can only hope his gesture will still be well received.

" I h-have a surprise for you.. all of y-you - g-g-g-gifts, " he says, gentle voice warm and full of affection he doesn't bother to hide. Peri has always had so much love to give, and if he spoils his kits and his favorite apprentice.... well, can anyone blame him? He has so little joy these days, he can hardly help himself. A feather is shuffled forwards first with a playful puff of breathe - light and dancing upon the makeshift breeze as it flutters towards dustkit first. " For you, d-dustkit, " he hopes she likes it - less thought put into how shiny or pretty it was than how soft and how sharp it was. Surely, it'd make a good chew toy if nothing else. The next gift is one he's more hesitant about - memories stirring uncomfortably in his chest as he pushes away thoughts of a different black and white tom - pushing forwards the rough, round stone. He'd wanted to find something shinier, prettier, by instinct... but bilberrykit didn't always seem to care about things like that, so maybe it'd be okay that it was dull and brown and dirt strewn. It was still meant for hi and him alone - to bat around or.... well, whatever kits did with rocks these days. Peri had never been one to play much in his youth - content to idle away at his mother and dustpaws side. " And for you of c-course bilberrykit... j-j-just... don't hit anyone with it, " he doesn't think he will... probably; but it's best to at least give the gentle warning now rather than later.

" And I j-j-just... well, with y-you becoming an apprentice n-now a-and all sh-sheeppaw.. I thought you m-might like a g-g-gift too... for becoming a 'paw... " the words come faster now, more awkwardly as he struggles to contain his nerves. His gifts are not always met with care and acceptance after all, and the tom can't help but worry that maybe he's pushed things to far again. Put his muzzle where he's not wanted. Overstepped. Still, paws carefully shuffle forwards the strange, cloud-like material, blue eyes flitting about nervously as he continues to stammer - " it's wool - y-you know, from a sheep... th-thought it might m-make your nest comfortable, " and stars, if that hadn't been the hardest gift to collect, if only because bluepool had a habit of getting up early enough to hoard the lot of it for herself. But he'd not been her apprentice for nothing, and he'd remembered their wool gathering tips well enough to forage some of his own.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​
Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​
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// @sheeppaw @BILBERRYKIT @Dustkit
 
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One of the wonders of the world is that, before now, Bilberrykit didn't have a rock—and abruptly, without warning or cause, he does now! The other gifts are noted only because they are given at the same time as Bilberrykit's, but it is his gift that keeps the attention of his mismatched eyes.

"I love it! I love it—I love it!" Bilberrykit's voice leaves him louder than what one might consider appropriate, but Bilberrykit doesn't notice. He bounces in place in front of the rock and then, with a shake of his rump, pounces atop it. The rock, stoic as rocks tend to be, gives no reaction other than to shift away from his working paws. "Thank you, thank you! You're the best, ever! And you're so good at finding things! Like rocks!"

It is only then that Bilberrykit takes more than a passive interest in the other gifts: the feather for Dustkit and the wool for Sheeppaw. His head tips in subtle thought—his body is still stretched from the pounce. "Dustkit and Sheeppaw shouldn't hit anyone with their gifts either. Even though its soft things, its rude to hit." He speaks as if reciting something—rules explained at some point and then, as if having completely forgotten the rules, idly bats at Sheeppaw's tail.​
windclan kit | black and white harlequin | three moons | tags
 
The young apprentice peers up at his favorite "big brother", he knows Periwinklebreeze isn't his REAL big brother. But he laid claim on the older cat as a family member either way, even if they weren't related by blood. He was plopped next to Bilberrykit and Dustkit, his tail wagging back and forth as he perked his charcoal-dusted ears towards Periwinklebreeze. Ohh? Gifts?!

Sheep-paw beams at the warrior, at the word gifts. He watches as Dustkit gets her gift first- a feather. A feather is pretty neat, he likes feathers for his nest in the apprentice's den. They felt pretty soft. He looks as Bilberrykit gets his own gift, a rough but round stone. He looks down at the kits with a smile, his glad the kits get to have interesting gifts. Sheeppaw wonders, what gift he'll get. Maybe a flower? A cool-looking bone from a piece of prey? Hmmm, nah. That idea doesn't suit him.

He gets an answer, he blinks blue eyes as Periwinklebreeze pushes a piece of wool in front of him. He looks up at the warrior-turned-queen, then back at the piece of wool, then back at the queen. "Sooo, COOL! Thanks Periwinklebreeze! I love it!" He takes a dark forepaw and bats the wool in front of his paws, he grins down at the cloud like material. He'll put it in his nest when he gets back to the apprentice's den later. He wants to show Lakepaw his cool gift! He swivels an ear towards Bilberrykit, as the black and white kitten speaks about hitting others with gifts. "Whaaa- Bilberrykit, I would never ever hit anyone with my gift! It's to special!" He finishes with a firm nod of his head, as he paws at the wool with a curious tilt of his head. He feels a paw bat at his plumed tail, he looks over his shoulder to see Bilberrykit bat his dark tail. He sweeps his tail away from the small paw, then flicks it towards the kit again. Just a little game.
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  • ( HEY! WHATCHA GOT? ) ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ SHEEPPAW. ╱ windclan apprentice.
    amab ; HE / HIM ; 7 MOONS & AGES EVERY 29TH.
    undecided / not looking / open to puppy-crushes
    a lanky, longhaired black smoke with high white and blue eyes
    thoughts ; "Speech, 8E7F7F" ; attacks only
    may powerplay minor harm ╱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
    smells like early morning dew & windblown heather
    — all opinions are ic

    biography / @ on discord for plots
    — penned by calzone
 

Dustkit fiddles with whatever she can get her paws on, like any kitten she got a kick out of batting at pebbles and twigs and moss balls and while her aim is far worse then her brothers she has the same amount of power in her paws and delighted in the skidding noises of her 'prey' against the floor and the feeling of it between her paws. She loved gifts, felt entitled to them - she doesn't beg she just expects very excitedly until she receives one. She's quick to confidentially trot out of the nursery not missing a step when her dad had nudged her along with Bilberrykit out of the nursery, she'd delighted in having him around much more since he was a official queen now (and the best queen). He smelled of new things, faint as it was beneath the scent of old ash and dried petals. She points herself in his direction head tilted up, her whiskers twitching in anticipation as he begins to meow.

He drops something and it'd lightly tickle her paws, she's felt and played with feathers before but this one is very soft and much bigger then the ones she shoved into their nest and liked to drop on her brothers faces (it was funny hearing them sneeze). A excited "Meer-mraow!" purrs from her as she rears up on her hindlegs and clumsily tackles her new toy, she rolls onto her side and then to her back paws batting it into the air, her jaws snap open hoping to catch it in her fangs but instead it lands on her soft tummy resting delicately on her plush white fur. She'd paw where it tickled against her bringing it to her mouth to chew on. She'd remember to say her thanks later, would purr and butt her head against his legs and pay no mind to the danger of tripping once she remembered her "manners" but right now the kit is happy playing. Her ears only half pricked listening in as her dad gives something to her brother, something that could be used to hit someone apparently. That raises her interest.

It's a rock, she likes rocks just like she likes dirt and mud - she loves her gift but a twinge of envy courses through her. Sheeppaw's gift is far less interesting to her just as he's less interesting in her mind then Pinkpaw. She shifts onto her side, and carefully drops her feather onto her paws, stepping one onto her treasure so she wouldn't lose it. Her ears twitch towards Bilberrykit "I would maybe! If someone annoyed me!" like that big dumb mousebrain Gravelsnap! She leans forward craning her neck to nose the ground to see if she could find his rock (their rock - the kit greedily thinks) she hears him move and the light movement of a tail. Though she doesn't catch on that her brother and Sheeppaw are playing.

Frustrated that she can't find it she relents and just asks, her tail twitching in frustration "I like my gift! Lots! But I wanna touch your gifts, can i?" well her dad liked politeness at least! She did wanna poke the wool too, whatever wool was.

 
PLAY US LIKE PAWNS AND RELENTLESSLY CONFINE
INTO LIVING UP TO GENDER ROLES AND HAVING ABSENT MINDS
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periwinklebreeze 23 moons demi-boy windclan queen
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There is relief written clearly upon the queens face as each of them accepts their gifts with warmth - he's done right then. Picked well. Shoulders at last lose some of their tension, smile becoming a little softer as he beams at the three of them. 'I love it!' Bilberrykit cries, and its hard to miss his sons affection, his enthusiasm all but contagious as Peri chuckles quietly." Th-that's a good point b-billberry... though it h-hurts far less to b-be hit by a f-feather, or wool, th-then a r-r-rock, " he jokes.

Sheeppaw is the next to thank him and say he loves it - and to steadfastly announce that he would never throw his gift at someone. The picture that paints is a bit silly - he's quite certain such an attempt would only result in the breeze carrying the fluff away, or blowing back in his face, but it's still nice to see the three arguing away over who would do what in such an affectionate manner.

Dustkit pounces upon hers, and while she doesn't say she loves it as loudly as the rest her actions speak loud enough - a purr rising up in his chest as he looks the three over. No matter the lack of blood ties between them al, he can't help but feel they are his. His family, all gathered up before him, happy and smiling innocently in ways he only wishes he still could. " I'm g-g-glad you like th-them, " he says gently.

actions & " speech, " & 'thoughts/quotes'
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Don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live?​
Don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids?​
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