camp TURN OFF THE TV &. crying

SPLINTERPAW.

told you not to worry
May 29, 2024
23
5
3
SURE IT'S A CALMING NOTION

since his ears opened, he has only managed to find himself shuffling back into the known darkness and silence that presses against the fur of his father. he doesn't like the noise, that much is true, but he never complains about it. not really. he's not a complainer, this kit. he chirps a little, and cries even less. he is the more quiet of the litter and that's not a surprise. he finds himself sticking to his siblings and dad, like his name suggests. but there is so much happening now. so much loud noise and the warmth with the scent of milk is gone in a flash. he truthfully knows not when it comes back because all he can do is yell. no longer is he shielded from the loud noises and hushed back to sleep. he is loud, and he is scared. he hates it. he hates the noise. why is everyone so loud? make it stop! stop it, now! he wants to tell everyone to be quiet but he can't. he has no words, nor any knowledge to form said words. so he cries. and cries. and cries some more.

// this takes place after the raid!! tldr: he does not like loud noises and all of the chaos has startled him really badly
 

༺♰༻ Gravepaw feels shaky. First the violence, the desecration of their sacred gathering - her first! Her first gathering, ruined. All ruined, and she feels the wrongness of it in her veins. But worse - the raid. Their home taken by ghosts of a war long passed, blood throughout their camp. It reminds her of when she was little, hiding out in the horseplace and waiting for all the adults to finish their fighting.

She can fight now, but she was too shaken to do anything. She hates that even more.

But now - but now. Things should be quiet, peace should be falling. The ghosts of pase bloodhed are gone, the ShadowClanners who dare sully their gathering have slunk back to their marshes. And yet, she cannot get even a second of peace. The wailing haunts her, like the screeches of the damned. It comes from the nursery, and she thanks her lucky stars she doesn't have to sleep in there anymore. "Can someone quiet that thing down?" She hisses, pressing a paw over her ear. It's not the best choice of words, but she can't particularly bring herself to care right now. She just wants quiet.


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    "SPEECH"
  • GRAVEPAW they / she, apprentice of windclan, six moons.
    a tiny chimera of black and white fur with bulging pink eyes.
    bratty and bitter beneath a sickly-sweet demeanor.
    cygnetstare x gooseberry, littermate to shriekpaw, heronpaw, & milkweedpaw
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by SATURNIDsaturnids on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 
☾ ⋆*・゚ Even though the fighting had passed, he couldn't get himself to relax. An aimlessly black ball of anxiety. The invasion had caught him off guard without much to show for it. Well, at least he didn't run and cower, but now it just consumed his thoughts of what could have been. Quietpaw didn't even particularly notice the cry until Gravepaw hissed about it. His ears flattened; he wasn't sure if he was the best cat to help with that sort of thing. His frown deepened.

Even when he was one himself, there wasn't a time that he felt comfortable enough to cry as a kit, no matter the situation, so no comfort was given. How do you comfort someone without knowing it yourself? Perhaps that's why, though his head was pounding, he could help but go shuffle over to Splinterkit and lay down next to him. Hopefully his warmth will be a decent comfort until someone with more experience can take over. "It's going to be okay; you're safe. It's going to be okay," he sheepishly whispered. He could hardly believe something so small could be so loud.

  • ooc:
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    Quietpaw — ・ he/him ・ 11 moons ・ moor runner apprentice ・Windclan ・ PENNED BY @Ghostunes!
    A timid mostly black tom with white markings on his chest and back. Note: ',,,' are short pauses in his speech Tags
 

The sense of hearing is a strange thing to get used to. Vinekit isn't too bothered by the noisier world around her too much, ears twitching at slight sounds, as she tries to determine what noises belong to which cat.

The little black kitten is lay there peacefully until one of her littermates starts crying. She is still young, still learning, so she can't put a face to the name properly yet. Regardless, the wailing of Splinterkit, and the sound of nearby voices coming to offer comfort unsettle her. Moments later, Vinekit goes from peacefully lying there, to wailing alongside her littermate, though she does not quite know why she's crying.
 

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KITEPAW. HOW CAN WE WIN WHEN FOOLS CAN BE KINGS? † ☼
𖤓 ✟ —— kitepaw slips through the entrance of the camp at the side of his mentor, the scrawny body of a rabbit clamped down in his jaws. from outside of the camp even did the sound of crying meet his ears, and it did not stop. high and kitlike, he can only wonder what was wrong now. at the rate of which bad things have been happening, the possibilities grew and grew in his head... few of which were good. and so as soon as kitepaw makes it the rest of the way into camp, he quickly deposits the prey on to the small pile and makes his way hastily towards the nursery. "can someone quiet that thing down?" gravepaw's voice lands annoyed upon his ears. "funny i could say the same to you," the boy grumbles out. if the child's crying was so unbearable, he'd suggest to her doing something about it. though... his mind briefly returns to ferretpaw cuffing frightkit over the ear for screaming and crying, and kitepaw briefly wonders if it's for the better that gravepaw stay where she was. of course, he has little idea of what she herself was feeling in the moment, but it doesn't seem fair to him to take it out on a child... indirect or not. quietpaw was already there now with splinterkit, but it's not long before another voice joins the choir.

with a small huff, kitepaw turns away from gravepaw and closes in towards the children and quietpaw. "what's the matter...?" he asks, allowing his voice to soften in an attempt to soothe the kits. despite the awkwardness of comforting a child (a task he wasn't used to or prepared for), he does try. his gaze softly drifts to quietpaw at his question, hoping that he might have any sort of idea as to what was wrong. he wonders if there were any queens nearby--they'd know what was wrong, right?








  • KITEPAW he/him, moor-runner apprentice of windclan, 8 moons old
    average sized tomcat with light cream tabby markings. he has a white chest and half face. his fur is a medium length and he has large whiskers. his eyes are a light blue.
    ⭃ highly religious, stubborn and hard-working, kindhearted and charismatic, honest, diligent, foolish and impulsive when frustrated, will speak out when something feels unjust.
    open to minor and minor nonviolent powerplay / / underline and tag when attacking ⇌ see his bio here
    penned by @DOFFERZ!doffloppa on discord, feel free to dm for plots. template credit to vayle.

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