- Jun 9, 2022
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Kits, he now finds, would run their mouths regardless of their grasp on speaking as a whole. Young Daisykit exemplifies this well, craning her neck and speaking jibberish, unaware of the fact that no one can truly understand her. Seeing the kits in a bunch, muttering their nonsense, with Pumpkinkit left hissing and spitting allthewhile makes their... condition that much more peculiar, he would admit.
It comes upon him later that night in the realm of dreams. Here, he sometimes sees ailments that the living would never need to know. He sees things that are not quite what they seem, things that seem one way, but are truly another...
When he retreats from his hollow come sunhigh, he would stick his head into the nursery, searching for one squealing kit and their worrisome mother. Not exactly keen on being attacked again, he would request that they meet him outside, rather; where his tail had less of a chance of being bothered. He cranes his head at them both, gaze dancing inquisitively over the kit in question before he would speak what he came to say. " Listen here, little thing, " he tells them— if they could at all, which is perhaps... a thing remaining to be seen. His smile stretches regardless, with the knowledge that they would not refute him in the ways of speaking. " I had quite the dream, last night. My jaw was not broken, my throat unmarred, and yet, when I opened my mouth to speak, no words would come... " He would loom closer, squaring his shoulders to peer clinically at the autumnal scrap. " Is this familiar at all to you, hm? "
But here is the thing— Dawnglare could spot no spark of recognition within those eyes. Foolish as kittens may be, there were things they heard even if they pretended not to, or forgot soon after. This ugly scrap often spat at him, but was it for what he said, or for what he did? He frowns in thought, an idea crossing his mind... " Or perhaps, is it your ears? All for show, but doing nothing at all? "
It comes upon him later that night in the realm of dreams. Here, he sometimes sees ailments that the living would never need to know. He sees things that are not quite what they seem, things that seem one way, but are truly another...
When he retreats from his hollow come sunhigh, he would stick his head into the nursery, searching for one squealing kit and their worrisome mother. Not exactly keen on being attacked again, he would request that they meet him outside, rather; where his tail had less of a chance of being bothered. He cranes his head at them both, gaze dancing inquisitively over the kit in question before he would speak what he came to say. " Listen here, little thing, " he tells them— if they could at all, which is perhaps... a thing remaining to be seen. His smile stretches regardless, with the knowledge that they would not refute him in the ways of speaking. " I had quite the dream, last night. My jaw was not broken, my throat unmarred, and yet, when I opened my mouth to speak, no words would come... " He would loom closer, squaring his shoulders to peer clinically at the autumnal scrap. " Is this familiar at all to you, hm? "
But here is the thing— Dawnglare could spot no spark of recognition within those eyes. Foolish as kittens may be, there were things they heard even if they pretended not to, or forgot soon after. This ugly scrap often spat at him, but was it for what he said, or for what he did? He frowns in thought, an idea crossing his mind... " Or perhaps, is it your ears? All for show, but doing nothing at all? "
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ooc: backwritten to before the most recent meting because im sillyyyy!!! please wait for @PUMPKINPAW
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