camp Too Many Tears in My Eyes || RTA

[Chickbloom]

Eggshell had been in Skyclan for a little over a moon now, yolk-stained fur plodding back and forth between his twolegs’ nest and Skyclan’s territory almost every day, yet the skittish Scottish Fold had hardly uttered a peep. It was a vicious cycle. Each time the boy was about to open his mouth, a hundred thoughts would crush down on him with the weight of an ocean, the heaviest of which being ‘what if they don’t want me to speak?’

So each day his silence became more set in stone, a fly on the wall that had taken the appearance of a tomcat, but no more. It had taken Eggshell all morning to work up the courage to say something, spouting inane pep talks to no one but himself as he padded into camp to start the day. He had the perfect plan, the ultimate conversation starter. The always-anxious kittypet had spent most of last night practicing the lines, determined to get it right.

With perpetually shaking legs, Eggshell shuffled towards the prey pile and picked out a mouse for breakfast before beginning to walk towards the first cat amber eyes spotted. Standing before them, he finally spoke. “H-Hi, I’m mouse. Would you like to s-share this Eggshell with me?”

It took all of the boy’s strength to not run back to his towlegs right then and there and never return. Instead the spineless whelp tried to stammer out a correction, red flushing his fur making it look like someone had just put a coating of ketchup on scrambled eggs. “O-Other way around, I mean…”​

 

[weedpaw]

𓆝 . ° ✦ "That is not an Eggshell. Or whatever you said," Weedkit corrects with a particularly judgmental eyebrow quirk. What even is an egg shell, he wonders? He has heard the word 'egg' before, but the kit isn't sure he quite can picture what it is. After another long pause, Weedkit adds proudly "It's a mouse." Innocent, really. He doesn't mean to insult the flighty warrior.

However, he also misses the part of the blunder that's meant to be an offer to share a meal with a clanmate, and he even moreso misses his manners altogether when he states: "You smell funny." Truthfully, Weedkit hasn't spent much time outside of the nursery, let alone bond with many others outside his own family- none of which were current daylight warriors. He's unfamiliar with the variety of scents that come from the twoleg abodes, having only smelled the warm milk-scent of the nursery and the similar smells of family and denmates.

✧　°　.　✶　.　°　✧​

ooc Information

• ooc: —
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  WEEDKIT — HE/HIM ･ 3 MOONS ･ SKYCLAN KIT ･ PENNED BY CARAT!

  longhaired black tomcat with low white spotting. born 11/9/23 and ages realistically 1 week every Thursday. Follow along with his growth here!

​

 

[Orangestar]

"Eggshell is a daylight warrior, Weedkit. He goes back to his twolegs at night, like Coffeekit and Sangriakit do." Orangestar explains to the young tom, ochre gaze flicking between Weedkit and Eggshell. Despite his ever-anxious demeanour, he's been consistent, and she appreciates that. It's nice to see a daylight warrior take joining SkyClan to heart, not treat it as a merry little jaunt among the pines. Her eyes drop pointedly to the mouse Eggshell had offered to share, despite just arriving for the day.

"You haven't eaten yet?" She meows, a note of expectation to her voice. The kits and queens had already eaten, but the spectre of Snorlaxmoon occasionally returns to the front of Orangestar's mind and she's found herself wary ever since of daylight warriors eating more than they contribute.​

 

[Chickbloom]

Eggshell’s already sinking self-esteem promptly gets an anchor attached to it in the form of Weedkit. The butter-stained boy visibly shrinks at the tiny cat’s correction, retreating into himself as folded ears flatten themselves even harder against an anxious skull. He could push back against the kit - explain the mixup and maybe shed some light on what an egg shell was (a subject which even he wasn’t too certain on), but the living doormat found it easier to simply lay down and die in situations such as these.

“Y-Yes, a mouse…you’re r-right, i’m sorry. Thank you for t-teaching me…” The sad sap mumbled, but the hits kept coming. The only reason the whelp didn’t burst into tears right then and there was the arrival of Orangestar and her implied assurance that Eggshell did not, in fact, ‘smell funny’. However, that doesn’t stop the skittish Scottish Fold from worrying over her words.

Eggshell may have been coming here a while, trying his best to improve and contribute, but that by itself didn’t make him useful. Shaky claws had never subdued a juicy piece of prey - despite his efforts - so most days ended up with the tomcat performing odd chores around camp to try and have some sort of impact. The coward remembers the words of Twitchbolt when he first joined. ‘You'll have two moons to prove yourself to us. If we decide it's not right for you to be a Skyclanner, you'll be sent away.’

Half of that time was up, and Eggshell was petrified of exile. Sure, he hadn’t really spoken, but simply being around these cats felt a lot better than sitting alone in an empty twoleg nest all day. The kittypet was temporarily frozen with the fear of getting kicked out then and there, but thankfully a growling stomach answers Orangestar’s question for him. Most days the doormat subsisted on his housefolks’ kibble in the morning, but today he’d made an exception. Eggshell, concocting his fool-proof plan to start a conversation with someone by offering them food, opted for authenticity by skipping his usual breakfast.

Of course, Eggshell would rather die than admit something so embarrassing, so butter-stained paws shuffled in place as the perpetually-terrified tomcat told a tiny white lie. “I forgot to eat b-before I came over t-today. I’m s-sorry…” He may not be being wholly truthful, but his remorse was certainly genuine.​