pafp TREASURE IN THE RIVER 𓆞 dead fish

[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 The river has become a playground for not only kits, but for twoleg garbage and the big, beastly dogs that they send out to torment RiverClan. Where once it was entirely safe for kits to wade around and play in the shallows, practicing their fishing skills, now they must keep an eye out for danger of all sorts. Still, there is no keeping Crabkit away from the water for long, and so the orange-patched tom quickly finds himself up to the ankles in water, tail held in a wide arc above him as he stalks around in search of minnows to catch. Or… to not catch, if his prior attempts are anything to go by. But today, he has Eveningkit with him, so together they’ll definitely be able to catch something, right?

A flash of scales in the water catches his eye, and the boy calls out to the other kit to capture her attention. "Eveningkit, look! A fish!" He points a paw toward the sight as the silvery side of a fish pops up above the water’s surface. Though he immediately rushes for the prey, Crabkit’s enthusiasm fades just as quickly—there’s something weird-smelling about this. The fish also doesn’t move to swim away from clumsy kit paws, and it only takes one close glance to realize what’s going on. "WHAT!" It’s dead! The fish is dead, and there’s blood coming from it, and suddenly the sky seems much darker than it was before. Is it about to rain? Gray clouds block out the kit’s vision—or is it just his eyes?—and he stumbles a step backward. The shallow water ripples out around him in tiny waves, casting glittering reflections of sunlight across his surroundings. It should be mesmerizing, but instead all he can think about is… Pinekit. The injured bird. His failure to catch a single minnow. The sharp scent of blood in the air, seeping into his lungs and choking him-

The kit gasps, sucking in a series of ragged breaths—quick and stuttering, he tries to catch his breath while also trying to keep scrambling backward. The rippling water wets his ankles and shocks him back into awareness, and he blinks harshly a few times to make the clouds go away. The gray finally recedes from his vision, and he looks over at Eveningkit when he finally falls back onto his haunches in the shallows. "It’s… it’s dead…" he says at last, in a tone so soft he isn’t sure whether the other kit will even hear him.

˚𓆛˚｡ the river will take me

• ooc: @EVENINGKIT for cod!! retro to evening’s disappearance ofc
• 
  CRABKIT ❯❯ he/him, kit of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragkit & pinekit
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

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[EVENINGPAW]

Much like Crabkit, Eveningkit cannot be kept from the water's edge for too long. No amount of bad news and dangerous debris paint enough of a red flag for her to notice- or care. What sort of RiverClanner would she be if she got scared of what lies beneath the lazy waves? At least, she does wade in it with a bit more hesitancy in her step; stepping onto one of those sharp, silvery things that got a few of the other cats already isn't such a good idea with the lack of a medicine cat. Moonbeam is dearly missed, a glimmering idol in Eveningkit's eyes, but there is little to nothing she can do from here.

So... might as well try to enjoy the days. Warriors are always frantic nowadays, running to and fro, anxiety for whatever is to come evident in their gazes. Eveningkit just wishes she could turn back time.

Her reflection in the water warps further when she moves, Crabkit's voice snapping her out of the eye-staring contest with herself. "What?" She's quick to divert her attention to wherever Crabkit is looking, the bright scales illuminated by sunlight on liquid easily telling her where to look. It'd be hard to miss anyhow. "Woah! Quick, catch it!"

Eveningkit closes in but lets Crabkit do the actual catching part, considering he's the one who first laid eyes upon the prize. Darkened paws move forward, but his halt is abrupt, water sloshing and eventually calming around him as he does so. There is no triumph in 'catching' this one; it moves in sync with the river, floating on top and staring at the world around it. The streak of blood starting at its mouth and sneaking down its body would let perceptive eyes know that it probably escaped a hook but it didn't get to keep its life...

She definitely does not possess those perceptive eyes, not when she is more focused on Crabkit. He backs away with such shock on his face that it almost mirrors the blank look on the fish. Eveningkit chases him, and although she's not quite certain if it'll help, she feels compelled to wrap her front limbs around him in a tight embrace. "Don't look at it!"

The proximity is the only reason she catches what he says. Eveningkit risks a glance over her shoulder, fish still floating about. Her teeth do not yearn to sink themselves into its scales; her belly has already twisted enough to get rid of any remaining appetite.
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[willowroot]

( ☾ ) willowroot frequents the nursery more often lately. with the recency of robinheart's litter and brookstorm's death, she's taken on a care-taker role within the ecosystem of the den that she finds helps her cope with her grief. so it's not unusual to find the smoke tabby feline watching over a gaggle of kits or bringing prey to the nursing queens. today she gives iciclefang a break from kit watching by taking whoever is interested towards the stream by camp to splash in the shallows. sharp green eyes keep a close lookout, watching as out in the vaster river, twoleg trash floats by, followed sometimes by an overwhelming rotting odor that causes her to wrinkle her nose. on the beach, crabkit and eveningkit hunch by the water, transfixed in their efforts to catch a fish finally. there's a fondness in the feline's voice as she calls down to them, "stay in the shallows, little loves," and she will reminisce on the time she too was fascinated by the newness of water.

crabkit chirps out a triumphant "eveningkit, look! a fish!" and willowroot hops down from her place on a nearby fallen log to watch closely as the boy attempts to hunt. worry floods her chest, however, when the little tomkit stumbles back, yowling. smoke fur bristles and the woman is immediately at the boy's side, slender paws scooping the fish up to examine it. the same rotting smell comes from this crimson stained trout as it hangs limply in her claws. as eveningkit wraps her paws around the younger kitten to comfort him, willowroot lets the prey drop, hoping the river will flush it away.

"tiny flame, are you alright?" they address the ginger boy, sweeping their tail around the two nursery-dwellers and blocking their view from the sight of their turmoil. the damned twolegs haven't stopped- not as though they'd expected those monsters to. anger ripples through the scarred feline's body, although they refuse to let it show, turning towards compassion instead. "come, let's go up on shore, okay?" briefly, she glances around for iciclefang, knowing her best friend's former apprentice and her strict and worried motherly tendencies.

THE ECHOING HYMN ☾ OF MY FELLOW PASSERINE

• // hope this is alright to reply to now, lmk if i should change anything <3 "#91A26C"
  
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  WILLOWROOT ☾ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING MIDNIGHTPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
  
  
  a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smoky long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, cut through with dark ghost stripes. friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape, and her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
  
  
  
  

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[otterbite]

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- The squeals of kitten play and patter of paws chasing tails rarely earned attention from the tom. He had not bothered with the nursery since he left it behind at a smaller age than those that lived in it now. Prolonging with milk-coddled teeth in the delusion it would protect them. Hadn't one of their first examples already gone missing?

While the pair in particular play their games he took to inspecting the prey pile. A vile scent lingered about, a fish had rotted far beyond acceptable. Squinted eyes assessed and peered around the mound of scales, pushing away the scarce bird and water vole, but the scent did not grow any stronger.

Their shouts are grating, and he would sooner snap at them to shut it if it weren't for their shouts bringing him to where the offense floated. Lifelessly at the surface, and then under Willowroots examination.

"No strange scent?" Otterbite followed up with as he padded closer, gently wading his paw in place to shove the fish out into the center. Scavengers would delight themselves with it, surely. However, Willowroot seemed more occupied with the snot-maws, maybe her assessment was reliable. But for all of a single dead fish, the two sure were acting dramatic.

"Scared of a dead fish? You know we keep them piled up in camp, too?"

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── IM OUT OF CONTROL ⋅❁⋅ OH, HOW I BURN FOR YOU ──┐‎

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  OTTERBITE ✩ he/him, warrior of riverclan, thirteen moons.
  ⭃ scruffy blue/black chimera with a white tail-tip and green eyes. noticeable kinked whiskers
  ⭃ adopted son to pikesplash // former apprentice to coyotecreek
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay requires permission / / underline and tag when attacking or making an action toward
  ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by beatae ↛ gonkpilled on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[MIDNIGHTASH]

જ➶ Maw parts on a slow and powerful yawn as the young molly stretches her body. Her eyes glimmering with a vague interest in the day as she flicks her ears back. Examining the fresh kill pile she stares at it as if she might eat something before she disregards it and instead she moves to go and hunt. After all, someone has to catch prey around here. But her steps pause as she hears the sudden shocked yelling of kits and she swiftly turns around to trot over and see what the fuss is about. And the fuss is over a dead fish. Her maw twists for a moment as she looks at the kits who seem rather shocked that there would be a dead fish within the river. Eveningkit shielding Crabkit from the view of it. Strange. Annoying. Her eyes cut to her mentor who coddles them before she looks to Otterbite who does not baby them at all. "It'll be gone with the river soon. Out of sight out of mind." She voices with little empathy to the situation.

The kits will have to start killing fish themselves when they become apprentices. So they might as well get used to seeing dead fish daily. It's what they all eat anyway and she frowns before shaking her head and glancing to Otterbite. "Come hunting with me, Otterbite. I figure we can bring back some dead fish of our own." She chuckles lightly at her own joke, rather amused by the situation. ​

 

[claythorn]

Claythorn had approached when Otterbite had- a silent companion on his flank, standing just above him with focused eyes upon the dead fish within the river. She did not follow him to the shore, looking on with a slightly lifted jaw. A slight breath left her. "We didn't kill it. Otherwise, it'd be in camp." Claythorn uttered quietly, her tail flicking- she wasn't speaking to the kits, Willowroot had that in paw- but rather directly to her- her... to Otterbite. Her tone, however, lacked it's usual bite towards him.

Irritation only grew when Midnightpaw suggested that Otterbite go hunting with her. Mismatched eyes fixed forward for but a moment upon Otterbite, before shifting towards Midnightpaw, ears laying flat. What was that strange feeling in her stomach, twisting and vile? The one that made the rage she was inhabited threaten to show itself? It clung to her sides, made her belly feel wrong. Surely it was not jealousy, at such a joke?

A sharp inhale followed, suddenly dull vision flicking away as she tried to distract herself. Probably trying to spot more fish- dead or alive.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

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• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, fourteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ padding after otterbite / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[Dreamkit]

Dreamkit hadn’t been invited to play, but was on his own curious adventure by the water. His reflection stared back at him with a strange feeling, the double sets of ears on his head wiggling. Soon, a minnow darted underneath him and he was caught up in its silly adventure. Bouncing after it, the kit allows himself to be consumed in this game of predator and prey - until the two other kits mention the dead fish. Green eyes are taken away from his fishy friend and look towards the others. Dead fish were normal, right? He watches as Willowroot takes them away, and he bounces out of the water himself, eyes looking at the warriors near him. “We still eat it, can we?” Dreamkit asks, before tilting his head. No, that sentence wasn’t right. “Can… we still eat it..? Not good?” That was better. Probably. Based on the vibes everyone else had, maybe it wasn’t. The tabby looks at the dead fish before figuring it would not be safe to eat and drag back. Instead, he begins to back away, going back to find his small friend in the water.

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eyes are looking at your feet ✩

• ooc ))
  
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  - DREAMKIT . tags
  - AMAB (he/him) . 3 moons
  - gen 2 . Swiftfire x Hush . sib to Roekit & Amberkit
  - speech . thoughts
  penned by doc
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[CRABPAW]

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 What he’d thought would be an easy way to earn his mother’s praise, and make her stop worrying about him, turns out to be a new kind of horror—Crabkit shuts his eyes in time with Eveningkit’s cry to not look at the fish. For a heartbeat, his eyes are squeezed so tightly shut that tiny sparkles of light start to dance behind his eyelids, but the feeling of the older kit’s paws around him calms him down a little. The comfort doesn’t change anything, though, because there’s still a dead fish in the water and there’s not supposed to be. The river is supposed to be good, and it’s supposed to keep them all safe, but lately it hasn’t been doing that, and it scares the boy more than anything. He thought RiverClan was safe.

He hears movement in the water, pawsteps coming closer, and with a sniffle he opens his eyes and hopes that it’s his mother. Iciclefang would know what to do, and she’d protect him and Eveningkit from anything that wanted to hurt them. But instead it’s Willowroot, and while they pick up the fish to look at it, the boy presses his face into Eveningkit’s fur, trying not to think about what the fish had looked like bobbing around lifelessly in the water. Willowroot discards it quickly, and then asks if he’s okay, to which the tomkit nods. "I’m okay… are you okay, Eveningkit? That was—it was scary." The warrior suggests that they get out of the water and back onto the shore, and finally Crabkit extracts himself from the other kit’s grasp, nodding his agreement. They shouldn’t stay here, because what if there are more twoleg things that will hurt them like they hurt the fish? He doesn’t like thinking about that. "Y-yeah, come on, let’s go," he says, turning to beckon Eveningkit along with him.

The second warrior who comes over to help them isn’t Iciclefang, either. It’s just Otterbite; but instead of promising to protect them or offering reassurance, the older tom just asks a question that’s laced with insincerity. Even Crabkit knows that, and his little tail whips back and forth when he responds to the warrior. "They aren’t s’posed to be in the river!" His protest is loud, but it’s also wobbly. Otterbite looks so angry, and Midnightpaw sounds so mean, and Crabkit shrinks back into himself slightly. He feels stupid now. Stupid and embarrassed, like a baby. And that makes his face heat up even more, makes his chest grow ever tighter. He doesn’t like this at all. He’s glad they’re leaving, even though Claythorn speaks up to argue with the two other RiverClanners.

To Dreamkit, the boy says, "We can’t eat it. It might be…" He thinks of the blood leaking from the fish’s mouth, then the shiny claws that had been found hooked into some of the other prey. "It might be bad. Right?" Bad. Just like the good from the twolegs, just like the big drooling dogs, just like ThunderClan. Things like this are bad, and that’s just the way that the world works. Crabkit has never had to look at things in a good or bad way before, so this is all striking him as kind of new—not new in a good way, though, like a new fish or new moss for the nursery nests. This is new in the worst possible way. It’s dangerous, and it should be left for the warriors to handle.

˚𓆛˚｡ the river will take me

• ooc: —
• 
  CRABKIT ❯❯ he/him, kit of riverclan
  𓆟 ginger and cream tabby with rippling white spotting and mossy green eyes. highly emotional and difficult to keep focused on one subject.
  𓆟 son of iciclefang ; brother to cragkit & pinekit
  𓆟 peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
  𓆟 penned by foxlore

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