sensitive topics WE GO DOWN TOGETHER — intro

[Acornwish.]

DOGBAIT — the cow jumped over the moon .
One paw shakily followed after another as the runt of a child walked along a well-trodden path, a weak but upbeat tune humming on her lips.
It had probably been days by no since she had made her valiant escape from the Dungeon, one of her silly little guards had forgotten to check her mesh cage, and she had slipped right on through as the others around her screamed to save them from the ferocious beasts, screamed at her to run.
She didn’t like to think about that though, it had only taken her a couple of days before the rough asphalt that tore at her kitten paws turned to lush green and soft soil.
She was battered, malnourished, and impossibly sore, but the comforting nursery rhyme she had kept aloud throughout her journey had kept her going.
"La..la..la- EEEK!" Her rhythm is thrown off beat when the ground underneath her paws is cut short, sending the kitten tumbling through a steep ravine.
She bonks her head, landing on her rump with a dizzying groan. She shakes herself, shakes the throbbing away. "I’ll buy you a mockingbird, and if that mockingbird doesn’t sing…" she continues her chorus to fight away her urge to cry. Completely unaware that she had just stumbled directly in front of Thunderclan’s camp.

// currently she’s just a couple of feet outside of the entrance !

"speech"

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[oakpaw]

˗ˏˋ he doesn't see her, but he smells her. the smell of familiarity ... the dogbait smell. the mangy little kitten lifts his head to taste the air. he spent most of today perched at the edge of wrenflutter's nest, still suspicious of his newfound littermates, still resistant to their warmth and softness .. he hadn't found much trouble slipping away without disturbing them. he'd clambered from the nest, toward the nursery entrance, out into the — camp. that's what they call it. dogbait doesn't trust any of them yet but he's learning, watching, starting to understand how things work here. and that's just what he'd found himself doing, curled up in a shady spot out here, when he caught her scent.

he smells her. he smells her. dogbait smells dogbait and he has to find her. he sits up, hackles standing on end as they so often do, and scampers the few fox-lengths toward the camp entrance.

"dogbait!" he squeaks as loud as his little lungs can manage — he doesn't care for the moment that he'll be found away from wrenflutter, found creeping away from camp, he just needs to find her. "DOGBAIT — !"

there. she's singing, he knows that voice, those funny lyrics — she sounds so sad, but then she's always sounded sad. she looks tired and dirty but she's always been tired and dirty so dogbait thinks nothing of it, pays her state no mind as he skitters over to other dogbait.

"dogbait," he says urgently, kitten-blue eyes wide and frightened, aiming to press himself up against her. "dogbait missed dogbait."

. . .

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brown tabby with white. 7 weeks old. how could you love this wretched creature ´ˎ˗ ​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

Howlingstar sits beneath the Highrock, the shadow cast over her bathing her brown fur in darkness. Content, she watches the happenings of camp, fern-green eyes traveling over each and every ThunderClanner from the complaining senior warriors to the rowdy kits. It's a good day, she can't help but notice. Birdsong is heavy on the air and a warm breeze ruffles her fur. Nothing beats this.

Movement from the nursery catches her attention, ears pricking up. It's Dogbait, scrambling out of the den and towards-

The bramble entrance?

Getting to her paws, the senior leader immediately begins to bound after him, calling out, "Dogbait! Stay put, please!" He's too quick and he slips out before she can reach him. She lets out an exasperated sigh although concern remains evident on her face as she rushes after him. He's so new and he's been so skittish; she has no idea how he'll react to potentially getting lost! All she can think is that he'll dart, he get spooked and run off in a random direction - StarClan forbid, to the thunderpath or the river. "Dogba- oh!"

Howlingstar halts, nearly trampling the tiny tom-kit as he embraces another small child. Her eyes blow wide and she freezes in alarm. How in StarClan did a kit get so far into the territory, nearly coming right into their camp? How did no patrol catch her? How did no predator? "Oh my, darling. Who are you? Are you hurt?" She immediately drops into a crouch, voice instinctively lowering in pitch to that familiar motherly coo that came so naturally to her. Raising three litters herself and helping with three more litters of grandkits did something like that to a she-cat. She sniffs, her jaws parting to let the strange kit's scent wash over her and she blinks towards Dogbait, who obviously knows her. It dawns on her. "Is this....is this your sister, Dogbait?" She gently asks, hesitation edging her voice. She doesn't want to scare the she-kit as much as the patrol had scared Dogbait.​

 

[Flamestar]

Long front forelimbs stretched as they prepared to carry the Lead Warrior out of the camp. She had been about to head out for a hunt, when the camp's newest member one running by. "Dogbait!" she called, trying to get him to stop. She was sure that Wrenflutter had explained to him what the rules were, but it appeared he hadn't listened. The she-cat would scramble on her feet, preparing to give chase, but Howlingstar was faster. She hadn't even noticed the leader before now.

The fiery Molly hurried after Howlingstar and Dogbait, nearly running into the leader as she came to an abrupt halt. Her fur prickled anxiously, and she moved around until she could see what was going on. She watched as Dogbait seemed to know the other kit who had accidentally found their camp. Her eyes widened in alarm, also wondering how the young kitten hadn't gotten picked off by a predator. She would have made easy prey for even a bird!

Dogbait missed Dogbait.

She felt her jaw open slightly, and she slowly turned her gaze to their leader. "Another one..?" she would say slowly, her brows wrinkling in sympathy. How many kits were out there named Dogbait?

[₊⋆]​

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[Acornwish.]

DOGBAIT — the cow jumped over the moon .
Her melody is cut short when the entrance suddenly rustles, though only the lyrics come to an end, a soft hum still says on her tongue.
Dogbait! A cursed name is spoken, her name, but that didn’t matter, because the kitten-pitched voice it squealed from was him.
The straggly thing of brown stripes and ivory bursts before her, but she does not stir, she can only look upon him with a wide gaze of terror and amazement. "You…" she almost whispers, her lost hum finally coming to an end. He presses against her and she embraces him with the small scrape of strength she has left. "you, you, you!" She rejoices as she cries.
Dogbait missed dogbait. The third person dialogue that used to annoy her was now sweet honey to her ears, a summer time lullaby. "Oh… one of the forest now, brother?" She sniffles as she reluctantly pulls away, but the overbearing scent of sap and soil was too much not to comment on, still, it suited him much better than the smell of rot and fear that still lingered on her own fur.
Suddenly, a paw slams down close to them- too close to them. Instinctively, Dogbait springs behind her brother, the pawstep thundering as if she were back in her mesh dungeon.
Oh my, darling, who are you? Are you hurt?
The voice that coos softly from above does not meet the thunder that crackles from her feet. Dogbait is suspicious.
Still, she peers from behind her kin to gaze upon the stranger, her facial features were round and kind, like a plum. Plums were sweet.
She asks many a’questions. "They called me Dogbait" she murmurs finally, her voice soft, but unnaturally strained. "I fell from above, and hit my head, but.. everything else is normal" she continues on, desperate to give the plum cat all of the answers so she could continue on talking to her littermate.
Though, her appearance would contradict her words. Her head slightly bled from where she had hit it, that was true enough, but her ribs protruded, and her facial features were sunken in, still, that was normalcy, was it not? It wasn’t normal to look like a fruit.. no, that was not normal one bit.
A feline of fire races to them next, but her features are sharper, she is like an apple, Dogbait decides.
Another one…?
Dogbait frowns, "What…" she scrambles to find the right words in her shaken brain. "…do you mean?" She finishes. "Are these fruits and flames your home?" She now murmurs for her brothers ears only.
It was then that she noticed that while still scrawny, her kins coat shone brighter than before, his eyes dazzled from his skull.
Was she a freak, now? Her and her brother… not equals?


//IC opinions <3
"speech"

tags​

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[LICHENPAW ❁]

.°❁ YOU TOLD ME 'BOUT NOWHERE

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Lichenpaw notices the commotion as Dogbait stumbles out of camp; they've been keeping an eye on the scrawny kitten, although hesitant to get too close lest they scare him off. He needs time, and space, to adjust to life in the clan. Lichenpaw knows this, though an overbearing impatience threatens to claw its way from his chest. He hovers, instead, not intruding in the nursery but keeping Dogbait in sight whenever he leaves.

This attentiveness is what draws Lichenpaw from camp. Howlingstar and Flamewhisker will keep Dogbait safe, he knows, but he can't help but to follow. He wants to do what he can to protect the little kit, wants to make sure he feels safe here. So he trails briskly behind his Clanmates, a nervous flicking to his tail as he entertains the thought of Dogbait running away, trying to return to the place that left him in such a sorry state.

That's not the case, though.

It's another kit that Dogbait greets, speaking her name just the same as his own. That seems like it'll get confusing very fast, but Lichenpaw puts that out of mind as Dogbait (number one) greets the other kit with a warmth they've never seen from him. That's good, it's good that he has someone, good that she's here because she looks just as mangy and starved as Dogbait himself, with a head wound on top of it.

Lichenpaw moves from the shadows only after the siblings have had their reunion, lingering a few paces away, smile warm as he looks down at the two. "Hello there," he says in a voice louder than he intends. He softens it belatedly, not wanting to startle the young cat. "So, so you two are siblings, then? Um, nice to meet you, Dogbait." It feels awkward, speaking the same name for a different cat. "I met your brother a short while ago. We've --" he gestures towards the other two ThunderClanners, "been, um, giving him somewhere to stay since he left. Somewhere safe." She doesn't seem as frightened as him, that's good. Nonetheless, he tries to fit a gentleness into his voice as he explains to the kit, peering at her where she hides behind her brother.

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WELL IT SOUNDS LIKE SOMEPLACE I'D LIKE TO GO ! .°❁

⟪ OOC ⟫ ⟪ INFO ⟫ ⟪ REF ⟫

• //​
• LICHENPAW named for the lichen on the trees of his home.
  — he/him or they/them. 8 moons.
  — thunderclan apprentice, mentored by sunnyday.
  — bears a near-permanent nervous grin.
  
  primary character, medium-high activity. penned by saturnid.​
• 

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[oakpaw]

˗ˏˋ a heavy pawstep — and she flinches behind him, hiding, and that rage inside of dogbait wakes back up, standing tall as he can and hissing, howling — "DON'T HURT HER! DON'T TOUCH HER — "

(it had never stopped them before. but he'd always tried.)

howlingstar doesn't hurt either of the dogbaits, of course, though dogbait the former still watches with a low growl in his chest, eyes narrowed, focused. howlingstar speaks gently. gently. dogbait does not understand it still. she's angry sometimes and so very big, she could hurt him so easily, she could squish him under those paws and claw at all of his soft bits yet she doesn't. she just speaks, sometimes an angry-voice, but sometimes a gentle one.

and... the cats called "thunderclan", they gather. one by one by one — howlingstar, the angry-or-gentle one, the one everybody listens to; flamewhisker, whose name he still doesn't know but whose scent he's starting to recognize, and lichenpaw — lichenpaw, who is. nice. and ... something is different about that one, about lichenpaw. something different from rest of "thunderclan". something dogbait likes.

but there's too many of them now and dogbait can feel himself bristling. his sister speaks. she fawns, she gives them answers. he lets his fur settle but doesn't let his guard down — maybe dogbait (the second) is right. maybe answering their questions is good...

and it does seem to please them. no one swats or grabs or slams or hurts. in fact lichenpaw — well — makes conversation. dogbait narrows his eyes at the apprentice, bares little milk teeth, inches closer to his sister as lichenpaw explains.

(lichenpaw who isn't like the others, lichenpaw who makes dogbait feel — less — bristly. less angry-scared.)

fruits and flames, dogbait calls them. home, she asks. are they his home?

"dogbait stays here," he answers her finally, an angry little kitten-squeak. "they have — milk. and. soft. they don't hurt."

that's dogbait's best explanation. he doesn't call them home. dogbait doesn't know what that would even mean to him, to a dogbait.

somewhere safe, says lichenpaw.

that, dogbait thinks, is true.

. . .

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brown tabby with white. 7 weeks old. how could you love this wretched creature ´ˎ˗ ​

 

[HOWLINGSTAR]

Howlingstar's ears pin against her head as she gazes down at the second Dogbait. Sympathy swarms her expression and she glances towards Flamewhisker and Lichenpaw. Her lead warrior shares her same astonishment, whereas Lichenpaw begins to speak to the newer kit. He talks to her with gentleness, and the leader appraises him with an approving look. While he may have acted a bit disrespectful before towards her, she can't deny he has a knack for this. She blinks softly at him with a small smile before returning her attention to Dogbait (the second?). Her gaze lingers on the bloodied spot on her head. On the ribs protruding from her side, just like her brother when he first arrived.

She looks to the young tom-kit, who bristles and spits and stands protectively in front of his sister. "It's okay, Dogbait. You know us. We won't hurt her," She murmurs, staring at him as her brows knit together. Her gaze flicks once more to the she-kit and she continues, "You should come inside." Her head gestures towards the camp entrance, her features soft yet holding a motherly firmness, because she did know this young kitten needed Berryheart's attention and a warm meal. "There are queens who will give you milk and a warm spot in their nests. You'll be safe here, I promise."​