TOTAL TRASH MAMMAL | introduction

[WAGTAILPAW]

Today, I'm gonna make a friend! That was the goal of the morning. Wagtailkit practically tripped on his own mop-like fur as he tried to get out of the nursery, and the boy could hardly distinguish the earthen floor and his own plume, as if he were the world he walked upon. It certainly seemed like that at times, for the camp was his oyster. A new adventure lay in wait at every corner, behind every thin reed blade, and beneath every upturned stone. He just had to look for it! Pusing aside a wispy strand to allow his gaze to dart to and fro, golden eyes glimmered from beyond the satin shadow of his face, as if they were amber jewels beset upon a cloak of nightly silk. Rounded in shape and owlish in character, his gaze trailed along the perimeter of the camp - at least, what he could see from his height. The quiet chatter of the dawn's comeuppance hummed in his ears, a sweet song of triumph through the ravaging flood, as though the melody of ashes and the forest that it birthed. He barely remembered how the camp looked before the flood, if at all. No matter to the child of little care and lesser focus.

Finally! A cat to be his friend! The snow-tipped boy rolled over to the first feline he saw - to them, he must have looked like a pocket of twilight hungrily chasing down its next meal. A terribly benign monster, but a persistent predator nonetheless. His paw poked at their hind leg in one swift jab, followed by another and another, like he were trying to knock them over instead of get their attention. Wagtail hardly realized his own power, being relatively more heavyset than many of his kin. "Hi. You're my friend now. Let's go play by the bank!" The cheery child trilled, a smile rounding out his rosied cheeks, as though the sun decided to blissfully shine upon him today. Sunlit dulcet filled his folly, made him walk, and gave him hope.​

 

[☆ Brightpaw ☆]

A playful breeze tussled the silken feathers of Brightkit's cinnamon ticked fur. Beneath the warm gaze of the sun, the kitten gleamed with flecks of bronze and gold as she carefully stacked smooth brown pebbles into gravity-defying towers. A circle of grey stones formed a perimeter around each pile; a tribute to her friend (and nemesis), Silverkit. It is very important work, for she has not spoken or eaten in over an hour as she poured her heat and soul into the creation of her art. To others, it is just a stack of stones, but, to Real Artists, it is a painstakingly crafted marvel of color, shape, and texture. Also it looks Super Cool.

Upon Wagtailkit's bold interruption, Brightkit frowns at his words. If there is one thing she dislikes, it's being told what to do. She has nothing against the other kitten, but the insinuation that she is his friend just because he says so is quick to make her hackles raise in indignation. Nobody bosses Brightkit around! (Except for her mom and dad, Cicadastar, Smokethroat, and every other adult whom she's eager to please). A mean rebuke balances at the tip of her tongue, but something makes her hesitate. Wagtailkit's smile is infectious and she chagrin to admit that her paws have started to ache from all this crouching and building. Swimming does sound fun...

Finally, she reciprocates with a sparkling grin of her own. "Okay," she replies with a prim nod. "Let's play frog and snake! I'll be the water snake, and you be the frog! If I catch you, you get eaten! Muahahaha!!" A dramatically evil laugh bursts forth from Brightkit and she dashes off toward the bank. "Betcha can't beat me!" she taunts, clearly unconcerned that she has given herself an unfair headstart.​

 

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 06 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

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Sometimes, stalkingpaw really misses being a kit. To play games all day was so much fun - not that she can't play them now, but her days are certainly taken up more so by chores and training than anything else. Returning to the camp is such a strange feeling - almost forgotten memories flitting about her mind. She was born here, she thinks, but she'd spent more moons away than within. A bright smile on her star speckled face, the white and black molly hollers from where she sits upon some stones "You better run Wagtailkit! You don't wanna get eaten do you?" A soft giggle follows her words, fluffy tail swishing to cover her mouth.

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[RAVENSONG]

He can't remember a time where RiverClan had so many kits at once. It was to be expected, of course, with the season. The medicine cat apprentice had been so adverse and judgmental of the little things, but he was admitting a slow tolerance of them, perhaps even fondness. Although it was not part of his duties, Ravenpaw often found himself watching the kits when he was around—from a vantage point in the corner of the camp. Apricotflower's kits were particular rascals, so when Wagtailkit began to race and scramble, Ravenpaw pricked his large ears and listened carefully.

Stalkingpaw was already there to play with the kits—Ravenpaw's irrational fear of water would have made him open his mouth to warn them about the danger of the water. But these were RiverClan kits. He shook his head. Unlike him, they could swim just as naturally as a duck.

"Just..." He trailed off, eyes widened ever so slightly. "Be careful. Do not go too far."

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[PINKKIT !]

( tags ) - The flame-point kitten had scurried out of the nursery shortly after Wagtailkit, eyes wide with curiosity. He couldn't consider himself too familiar with the older kit, but it was hard to not notice someone you shared a den with, after all. Instead of joining in with the others and their games, he plopped himself down on the ground and simply observed. As fond as he was of the new camp, the change had left a toll on him and he still needed time to recuperate.

His brows furrowed as the older black and white she-cat said her own piece. Being eaten sounded a fright uncomfortable, he couldn't let that happen to poor Wagtail. "You can't get eaten! You have to run!" he encouraged, his expression one of concern. ​

 

[WAGTAILPAW]

"... Okay! I'll pretend to be a frog! Even though I'm not a frog, I'm a cat." Wagtailkit's head bobbed in a lackadaisical manner, like a water lily drifting through the rushing rapids, a leaf floating through the terrible tempest. Though the winds nipped and gnashed, and the waters gnawed and gnarled, that childish naivete seemed to always prevail through the storm. Whether through willful ignorance or tawdry stupidity, he always braved it - mostly in part because he could not understand the harrows and sorrows that permeated the marrow and sinew of his clan. Wide, owlish gaze did not see what lie right in front of him, though it was of no worry to the child. At Stalkingpaw's prodding note, the tom mewled in fear. That would be terrifying! A snake eating a kitten - no, frog - like him! The kitten practically rolled towards the riverbank, moplike strands of pelage obscuring his view and his footfall, as though he traversed the winding, tantalizing paths of the jungle instead of the riverside. Apricotflower did her best to groom him, though to no avail - as soon as he stepped outside, his coat just seemed to tangle itself all over again.

"I won't! Promise!" Wagtail's voice bubbled from his flighty lips, like the sonorous trill of the forenoon's harbinger, though much less melodious and much more puerile. It was a saccharine song of youth, of untapped clouds of fantasia, and a declaration of those who refused to grow up. Wagtail had been so distracted by Ravenpaw's interjection that he just stopped in the middle of his course. But with Pinkkit's encouragement, he found the sprightly spark to dash once more, skipping towards the stream's flank. He, in his usual fashion, then tripped on his own fur right at Brightkit's feet. "Wahhh! Don't eat me!" He cried out, flailing about on his back.​

 

[✧ Stalkingpaw.]

˚⊹ COME ON MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE ⊹˚
stalkingpaw | 08 months | polygender | any pronouns | physically easy | mentally medium | attack in bold crimson

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Pinkkit and Ravenpaw seem just as interested in the children's game, and the girl waves one ink tipped paw in their direction. Emerald eyes watch fondly as the two younger children run around, only to widen in surprise when wagtailkit goes and trips. Oh no! Sharp teeth worry her lips for a moment - is he okay? Is he just playing? She thinks she remembers someone saying once that unless a kitten cries you should pretend they didn't fall, because sometimes they won't even notice unless you make a big deal about it. Is that what she's supposed to do here? "Erm..." Should she do something? She looks to the medicine cat apprentice for guidance, eyes round and nervous.

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