camp WE'LL BE ALRIGHT [✦] dual kit intro

[Starlingheart]

Starlingheart does not share the nursery with the other queens. Her own brood are kept in the medicine cats den when they are taking naps or need shelter from the elements. And why wouldn't she keep them in such a safe place? The rock walls provided protection from the heat and the grove was the perfect place to let the kits play when there were no patients. It was enclosed, safe, and it had a pool of water they could drink from should they need it. She is thankful for this sanctuary but she recognizes the importance of exposing them to other things as well. Thus, this morning, she had herded them all outside so that they may play with Forestshade's kits, who are only a couple of days older then them, but not before promising them each that their would be bath-time afterwards whether they liked it or not.

Her green eyes find the tortoiseshell queen and she settles down into the shade of the nursery with her, snow covered tail flicking to and fro contentedly a she watches the group of kits tumble about in the hollow. "It-it feels like ju-just yesterday they came into this world." when she speaks her voice is soft, fondness creeping in the edges and she cannot help but wonder if her mother had once thought the same. "Does-does it always go by this- this fast?" in a couple more short moons they would be apprentices, then warriors after that. They would have mentors and friends and their own lives separate from her and the medicine cats den. It would feel empty when they left, she realizes with a sharp pang.

She is content in watching the group play, trying her best to enjoy the moment rather then lose herself in wondering what their futures held for them. "Away from the brambles please" she calls out when one of them get to close to the wall that encircled the camp. If they got hurt she would be there to soothe with gentle words and herbal remedies, of course, but if it could be prevented that would be preferred.

// @FLINTKIT @NETTLEKIT @GHOSTKIT @SCREECHKIT @Briarkit. @Sweetkit @FORESTSHADE anyone is free to post before these guys!

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[Frostbite]

His anxieties have not stopped haunting him. He towards the back of the nursery, hesitant to join the others in watching the kits. He's almost afraid to, but he reminds himself there's no point in his fears.

It was going to happen wether he wanted it to or not, and he needed to be ready when they arrived.

He decided to shift closer to the entrance, near the others. He watched the kittens play, a tired but neutral expression on his face.

"There sure are a lot of kits running around... " He says. "... I guess we have our paws full." He adds with a slight smile. There would be even more kits soon, his own, but he didn't know how many. But still, their paws would be full regardless.

Look at all of them. Happy and carefree, little souls unscarred by the cruelties of this world. An innocence that needed to be protected as much as possible before it was time for them to be apprentices.

He hoped and prayed they kept their childlike innocence for as long as they could.​

 

[FLINTWISH]

Flintkit values the solitude that the medicine den can offer. Their nest is tucked back, back away from illness or injury, choked in the scent of herbs that he associates so closely with his mother. Really, he would never choose to leave it had his mother not coaxed him out and into the hot, muggy sun. He'd had everything he'd needed: water, shade, his mother. But now Flintkit sits stubbornly outside, bicolored gaze squinting against the brightness he is not quite accustomed to. For a few moments, he stares back at Starlingheart, as if to ask when he might be allowed back inside the tranquil den he's grown used to.

He doesn't listen to the worries of the other queens, instead finding his focus drawn to the kittens he has not yet truly met. And secretly, he is glad; his first instinct upon seeing Forestshade's brood is to judge them, scalpel stare coruscating with ill-hidden contempt. It's no secret that they lack a complete set of parents-- something that Flintkit can proudly boast he does possess. Starlingheart and Granitepelt are a perfect pair, and even now the young boy searches for his reflection at his mother's side. He stops when the search proves fruitless, though, and fixes his attention back on Forestshade's kittens-- his peers, allegedly. His eyes glitter with a new layer of subtle frustration. The feeling bubbles in the pit of his stomach.

His mother calls towards one of the kits, urging them away from the brambles, and Flintkit points his frown-crusted muzzle in the wanderer's direction. "Didn't someone teach you that brambles hurt?" he piles on, ruddy ears angling sharply with the scolding. "It's common sense." He does not speak what he means in such explicit terms, but it sounds something like this: you must be a mousebrain to get too close.​

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[GHOSTMASK]

†—— Ghostkit trails after her mother and siblings into the warm touch of the greenleaf sun; it's vaguely pleasant as it kisses the white mask of her face, unfamiliar, but not objectionable. Yet. She is inclined to agree with her stone-furred brother in this; camp is agreeable, but the medicine den is more agreeable. Still, she prefers this brief suffering to a permanent relegation in the nursery—she simply cannot imagine what it must be like to be crowded in there amongst warmth-oozing bodies and their disturbing scents forming clouds in the air. Ghostkit thinks she would just run away if Starlingheart ever dared to put her in that ..... den. It is not enjoyable out here in the muggy warmth, but it is not offensive, and that is what matters to the white-splashed she-kit. Nothing, to her, is worse than discomfort.

Her brother's face is creased with poorly hidden dislike for the bumbling brood in front of then; she is, again, inclined to agree. She and her siblings have a father—she does not seem to see him much, somehow—but they have one. These kits do not. Their mother is a medicine cat with her own den. These kits' mother is not. By order of simple logic, they are better than these ..... things. They don't have to sleep in the smelly nursery, after all. Ghostkit pauses next to her brother, deep blue-black eyes seeking out the kit he so sharply chastises with a cool distaste. She wouldn't be that stupid. And if Flintkit said that to her, she'd give him a smack to remember. She bets this kit won't. Unless it's that loud one. Euch.

"Flintkit's right," Ghostkit adds flatly; she does not yet see a reason to censor her thoughts, "Only a stupid cat would run into the brambles. Are you a stupid cat?" She isn't a stupid cat; that much she knows. That's why she's better; it's simple.

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┏━•†˚୨୧⋆ OOC ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ INFORMATION ⋆୨୧˚†•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ ༘*.ﾟ

• ooc: ic opinions <3
  

• 

• † ghostkit — named after the deceased ghostpaw she/her ; afab cisgender female — shadowclan — kit — 2 ☾s —— ghostkit is the daughter of the soft-spoken medicine cat starlingheart and her possessive mate, granitepelt. she looks just like her mother, and while she can be a little difficult, there's nothing really wrong with her ...... right? —— smells like milk, herbs, and .... iron? ; sounds like tbd ; speech in #EB80B7 ; thoughts in #253DC6 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim (kitten) —— too young for romance ; open to enemies, "friends", tormenting other kits, plotting ; not open to battles, romance penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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[valerianpaw]

The nursery was crowded, and the camp just as so. It wasn't exactly a fond experience for Valerian, who shared a nest with three siblings. Though, half of the new kits often resided in the nursery with their young medicine cat mother. Valeriankit liked Starlingheart, and knew her mother and father did as well. So she supposed lingering nearby while they played wasn't too much of an issue. Her ear flicked, watching the younger kits amuse themselves in all of camp. Perhaps it should bother her, being barely bigger than them but older, but she easily disregarded it. With a soft yawn, and a minor wish to be dozing with her brother, she decided to obey her parents' wishes to socialize. Scanning the camp briefly for her father's form, she considered a good approach. Applekit always wanted to be involved with games didn't she? "What are you playing?" She aimed the question softly as she lingered nearby to their antics, blinking at the two kits as they spoke rather... Aggressively. How pleasant.​

[sweet like honey]​

 

[NETTLEPAW ♡]

Everything seemed rather strange and scentless outside. The medicine den, their keep for so, so, so long now, was filled with interesting, cloying, different scents... and outside just smelled like cat and marsh. It was quite dull, at least to Nettlekit, who trailed a little further away from his siblings, glancing somewhere else with a squint of clear-sky blues. It was a weird world out here, but one he'd be living in... one he had to learn about. You had to learn things to know what was coming, to know what could do you harm... like brambles.

Judgemental eyes and words were placed upon one of Forestshade's kits, and soon Nettlekit's attention joined theirs, directed toward the wayward one. A small snort of laughter left him at Ghostkit's words- he was sure they'd leave a mark, something to remember, but it was wise to remember about anything that could harm you, wasn't it? Instead of inquiring into the reasoning they might have stuck their head in there, caring not yet about such trifling matters as motivation, Nettlekit set large, jay-blue eyes upon his mother. "Why do brambles even exist, if they hurt?" he asked, a furrow of the brow accompanying the words. What was the point of them? Why were they even here- was it to hurt anything that might get in?

A snowy ear flicked in Valeriankit's direction- and, distracted, his rounded head whipped around. "We're playing 'get hurt', I guess," he murmured, ivory paw pointing toward the commotion before fixing his inquisitive gaze back upon his mother. His question was not forgotten. How could she have thought for a second that it was! ​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[Sweetpaw]

Everything is cloaked midnight black and nothing has changed for them, it has always been this way; dark and cool and very, very loud. Sweetkit realized very quickly there was something about them a little different but it was hard to determine what. Cats would say things like 'look at this' and 'did you see that' and they would wonder mutely to themselves what was possibly being referred to. Looking? What was looking. They only knew scent, noise, the feel of everything-there was a missing piece but they simple were as they were. It didn't bother them. But it did amplify their confusion sometimes.

"Brambles." They trill, testing the word uncertain, "I don't know what that is." Was it something they could eat or chew on? Something they could place a scent to? Sweetkit knew it was in front of them somewhere by Starlingheart's warning call and the chiding affirmations of the others kits, but they hardly thought much of the ridicule; too overwhelmed with curiousity. The black kitten waddled forward, pushing their nose upward until whiskers brushed lightly along something hard. Chalky scent, warm earth scent-a stick smell, a branch smell. Though Sweetkit leaned into the brambles they did not venture far enough that it might touch them; they hurt apparently, and Sweetkit did not want to hurt. They only wanted to know.
Heavy smell, hard thing. Stay away from it. They could remember this.
"I'm not stupid." Withdrawing from their experimenting they finally register the name-calling from before, "I'm Sweetkit." And immediately assume it was just an accidental misnaming and not an insult.
​

 

[GRANITEPELT]

tw: mild ableism directed at forest and sweet

Granitepelt is returning from a patrol, and with time, it seems the prey has more or less returned to their marshy territory. As he trots through camp's entrance, a frog hanging limply from snow-white jaws, when he spots Starlingheart sitting outside the medicine cat’s den with the other queens. The warrior makes a beeline for her, dropping the prey at her paws and nudging it closer. “Eat, love. The fresh-kill pile won’t miss this one.” His eyes are gentle as he inspects her. Motherhood has not diminished her beauty, but there’s an exhaustion behind her green gaze that has only become more present since the kits have begun to walk.

Speaking of the kits—he hears some chirping mews, three of them belonging to his own blood. Granitepelt’s gaze loses its gentle sheen as he moves it from his beloved mate to the brats who toddle before their mothers and Frostbite. Flintkit, everyday resembling him closer, uses his sharp little voice to criticize one of Forestshade’s children who has blundered blindly into a bramble patch. Pity she had to spread those genes, he thinks without feeling.

The black and white she-kit who helps Flintkit gang up on the child earns a disdainful expression. He will not think of her by that cursed name, and he will not acknowledge her. That is Starlingheart’s job. When he speaks to them, he addresses only his gray-pelted son. “Ensure you keep that in mind. Only a fool plays with things that can hurt them.” His flicks the white tip of his tail in an almost aggressive manner.

One of Halfshade’s ambles toward them, though that particular queen apparently has better things to do than watch her brood. Nettlekit answers her question with mild disdain, though it’s his question that causes his father to direct meager attention to him. “There are many things that exist in life only to hurt. But even brambles have their uses.” His tone is cool. He thinks of the nightshade that Starlingheart had shown him, of blood-flecked foam spewing from Pitchstar’s unhinged jaws. “Everything, even things that cause pain, have a purpose.”

✧ INFO.

•  
• 
  — granitekit . granitepaw . granitepelt
  — he/him ; warrior of shadowclan
  — heterosexual ; taken by Starlingheart
  — short-haired gray tom with white and green eyes
  — “speech”, thoughts, attack
  — penned by Marquette
  — chibi by Meg

​

 

[Briarthorn]

BRIARKIT — hello, my old heart.
Every day she learned a new thing, answered a pressing question- earned a million more.
There were several things Briarkit already knew, though. Somehow instilled in her subconscious, but she didn’t care to elaborate.
The night-pelted she-kit is perched in front of her mother, though trying to stay far enough to where the queen wouldn’t sense her presence, Briarkit didn’t want to get told do go play with the others, she didn’t want to, content to quietly watch her two siblings amble about.
That is, until Sweetkit nearly stumbles into a patch of something prickly- bramble, apparently. Starlingheart’s call is gentle enough, but even with her honeyed voice the medicine cats words still incite jeers from her children. Briarkit is up and walking, picking her way towards Sweetkit on still toddling paws. Despite her unsteady gait, the child reaches her brother just in time to hear Ghostkit call him stupid- or rather ask if he is.
Oddly scrutinizing eyes are glared towards her peer then, and the weird urge to protect her sibling is reluctant to be suppressed. Sweetkit was stupid in certain ways, but he was her sibling.
"He’s smarter than you are." Briarkit answers quickly after Sweetkit speaks, her answer directed towards Ghostkit and Flintkit.
Without another word she’d aim to gently nudge Sweetkit in a different direction, free from any obscurities.
"They weren’t asking who you are." Briarkit whispered to her littermate, looking away from Granitepelt when he approached, his presence was intimidating, and his gaze always sharp. It made her pelt prickle. "Let’s go play something."

"speech"

tags​

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[orchidbloom]

Lately it seems like Orchidpaw had been hanging around the nursery more and more despite how crowded it is, always trying to poke their head in at least once a day to see how the little guys are doing or even if Forestshade needed anything. When they return from a patrol it's almost a reward that they find their mentor and her kits outside. They're joined by Starlingheart and her kits. Orchid inaudibly bids the warrior she accompanied farewell with a jittery flick of her tail as she makes her way over, heather-blue eyes full of softness. They're finally out and about and its such a sight to see, they're much bigger than the tiny little things they were.

Immediately they're greeted with rude words from Starlinghearts kits, pointed at poor Sweetkit who ambled near some brambles. She's shocked in to oblivion, Starlingheart was one of the sweetest cats they knew! Even Nettlekit laughs along with his siblings quips. How... What...? Such foul-tempered things, but Orchid decides to ignore both Granitepelt's words and the other kits despite the prickling sensation that began along their spine.

Unfortunately for the little ones, Orchid had no backbone of their own. Briarkit is quick to get her sibling away from the brambles and Orchid is visibly shaking as they pick their way over. "Hi- hello, l-little ones." and just as they shake physically, their voice does as well. Judgement, oh, it terrifies them and the other kittens only amplify their fear tenfold. Orchid only briefly notices Valeriankit, Halfshades kitten, but they're too caught-up to beckon them over. The invitation remains unsaid in the air, silent, just barely there. "We can play badger rides if you guys would like?" Orchid isn't exactly sure that they have the strength to hold them up, but they'll sure try! Despite ignoring it earlier, their ears swivel back to listen to everyone and everything.​

"speech"​

 

[SCREECHSTORM]

He grows. With opened eyes and toddling limbs only comes curiosity for what lies beyond the nursery - an equally growing boredom for the thorn-shielded hollow Screechkit and his siblings rest in.

There is more to the world than the hollow, he quickly learns. His peers, born merely days later than him, do not live in the nursery as he does. The sun-patched kit doesn't know why, but yearns to see the den himself - longs to see something other than his hollow for even a moment.

Such as the moment placed before him. A chance he unknowingly will have again, wandering just outside the nursery with wide eyes. He trails behind his brother, less so in a watchful gaze than his sister is bound to. Instead, his eyes are on the strange wall beside them, prickly in nature. He can't help but to wonder about its purpose - if the walls of the nursery had a world outside of it, was there an even bigger world outside of this wall?

He'll have to see, paws stepping closer to Sweetkit, to the brambles, to see if he can get a glimpse of anything past them. It's a short-lived attempt, as Starlingheart's call reaches his ears, as her children show up to call Sweetkit stupid while Valeriankit appears, the older kit asking what's going on. Playing 'Get Hurt,' Nettlekit says.

They were younger than he and his siblings - what did they know that he didn't? That Sweetkit and Briarkit didn't?

"Are you stupid?" he shoots back at the white-faced kits, just in time for Granitepelt's presence to be made, for Briarkit to appear to nudge their blind brother away from the wall, for Orchidpaw to follow after. A game, his dark-furred sister suggests. Badger rides, his mother's stuttering apprentice follows up with.

He doesn't want to play a game. He wants to see past this wall.

"I bet... br... brambles don't even hurt," he states, a slow remembrance to the new word he's just been introduced to. A flame-flecked paw rises, before setting itself upon the prickled barrier. Instantly, Screechkit feels the sharpness of thorns, the stinging in his paw.

Wide-eyed, he's quick to pull his paw away, holding it close to his form. "S-See! Didn't hurt!" he squeaks out a lie, though his paw is throbbing with the newfound sensation of pain, warm and feeling like he'd stepped in something wet, rather than placed it on brambles. Screechkit cannot touch the wall if he aims to one day go past it, he learns.
​

 

[APPLEJAW]

Being the oldest of the kits now almost made it okay that there were so many faces and so much less space to play. She still thought about Comfreypaw sometimes– whisked away to do... apprentice things. That would be her in a moon, and then she'd be starting all over again. But for now, she was biggest, literally too, even as she stands beside her sister Valeriankit. Applekit was taller than the other kits and had big paws and knew she was going to be big and scary like her parents someday.

Applekit also knew the most too, and no one would be able to tell her that she can't be Appleshade, leader of ShadowClan.

Ghostkit seems smart. Cats that run into brambles would only be stupid cats. The stupid cat in question looked like they were trying to stop themselves on purpose, and Applekit would narrow her eyes when they declare themselves not stupid. Applekit wasn't sure. She hopes that her sister wasn't a stupid cat. She asks what they're playing, when it's obvious that they're not playing anything at all. Get hurt sounds like the worst game in the world. " They're not playing a game, they're getting scolded. " she explains to Valeriankit.

And Applekit tenses when Granitepelt appears, weird and not to be trusted, she knows. A lot of ShadowClan couldn't be, though. He talks all weird to his kits. Applekit didn't need that advice, only Forestshade's dumb kits did. " Brambles exist so WindClan can't get us, " Applekit says, matter - of - fact. She didn't know about other things not getting them. Clearly, it didn't always work...

She wasn't scared of that though– or anything, so it didn't matter.

Following the murmurings of a game, Applekit would prick her ears in Briarkit's direction, only for them to fall disapprovingly with Orchidpaw's offer. They were hardly older than her! Their badger rides would be no good. Instantly losing interest, a bored gaze would instead turn to Screechkit. He. could hardly even say brambles, and Applekit felt proud because she'd learned that ages ago. At least after learning about them, his sibling had kept away, but Screechkit willingly stuck his paw into it. Didn't he know to listen to grown - ups?

Though– most grown - ups, Applekit was learning, were stupid. Halfshade and Smogmaw would never lie or tell her anything stupid. Maybe their problem was that they didn't have any good grown - ups to listen to.

Still, it's funny when Screechkit says it didn't hurt when " Did too. "​

 

[smogstar]

As though Smogmaw's rugged mug isn't deformed enough, the thermic rays from the sun above have melted his features into a scowl, one of a most insipid variety. Radiant warmth clings to his fur like swamp slime, particularly along the mantle of dark strands that covered his back. He feels weighed down, in every sense of the figure of expression.

Eyes squint with a weary intensity as he plods across the breadth of camp. Walking at a snail's pace, he sheepishly skims over the outlines of clanmates and landmarks in a desperate search for something in need of doing—such is a deputy's strife. Yet, with the heat sapping away at his motivating forces, Smogmaw found an array of excuses to postpone whatever ideas he came up with. His usual sharpness was made dull by the swelter, and the tom remains blissfully unaware of the kits' presence until he notes his daughter's own voice in the midst of it all.

Torn from his Greenleaf-induced stupor, his newly-recovered focus flutters right toward the form of Valeriankit. Her attempts at mingling causes his stony demeanour to crack, nearly giving rise to a smile, but any possibility of one flourishing is swiftly snuffed out. The venom in the other kits' inflexions, their razor-edged condemnations of one another, it made his hackles rise (in a metaphorical sense). Had it not already been made obvious by their parents lingering just over yonder, this would have been the moment Smogmaw identified them as Granitepelt's kits.

His purview would coast in Applekit's trajectory, then. Although the eldest of his kits oft carried a bite with her delivery, he could find solace in the maturity she held over her peers. "You know better than to speak to your clanmates like that," he murmurs softly behind her ear, gesturing toward the undisciplined warrior-spawn with a slight nod. "As do you, Valeriankit," the deputy adds on, just as gingerly, his attention shifting unto his other daughter. While he may not always display the decorum which he wished of his children, Smogmaw, of course, held them to a higher standard.​

 

[Starlingheart]

With so many kits running around right now, she is at least glad that most of the warriors are out on their respective patrols. She smiles gently at Frostbite speaks, nodding her head in agreement and thinking about how his own kits were due in the coming moons. ShadowClan would have np shortage of future warriors that was for sure! "An-and to think. it'll be even-even busier once your kits arrive!" She wants to ask him if he is excited but then her mate is appearing, bringing her prey that she accepts with a grateful purr and then adding his own warning about the brambles. "Thank you I-I was getting hungry" she admits.

She is distracted by the words of others but the words her kits utter is not lost to her. They are abrasive, honest about their thoughts just like their father. Still though, her eyebrows knit together "Ghostkit, Flintkit it-it is not nice to c-c-ca-call other-other cats stupid. Apologize or I will- I will only be telling that story I pr-promised earlier to-to Nettlekit" the threat hangs heavy in the air as she waits for them to utter their sorry's. Smogmaw chatsizes his kits as well and her ears flick backwards momentarily in embarrassment. They will learn kindness with age. She reassures herself.

As she is waiting for her kits to speak one of Forestshade's kits, desperate to prove something, reaches out and actually touches the bramble wall. He says it doesn't hurt but the black and white she-cat can tell it's clearly a lie. With a small sigh she gets up and heads to her den "St-stay right there Screechkit" she calls out before she goes only to return a moment later with horsetail and cobwebs. "Let me see your-your paw. This- thi-this will- this will help it" she chews the horsetail into a pulp and smears it on the injured limb, wrapping the poultice onto the wound where it would start to soothe immediately. "Th-there all better." she admonishes with a soft smile.

​

 

[NETTLEPAW ♡]

The attention of his father flitted from Starlingheart to him, his question answered in a cool, level tone- and, fascinated, Nettlekit set his bright gaze unmoving to meet his father's. Some things only exist to hurt- everything had a purpose, even when that purpose was painful. He hummed in thoughtful acknowledgement, brow furrowing as he considered the logistics... the whir of his mind was almost audible, though spun to a stop as Applekit claimed it was to prevent WindClan from getting in. A horror story, that WindClan... the the brambles were their shield, pain given purpose. Eyes brightened as he nodded, the idea settling in his mind as fact. As his mother scolded his siblings for being unkind, himself exempt... he glanced toward Ghostkit and Flintkit with a close-lipped smile, a hint of childish smugness present in his expression. He'd not been mean, like them.

Blue-hues flickered back up to his father- but, that short burst of attention was seized as Screechkit surged forward, betting something...

The shadowed kitten recoiled sharply, stung, and Nettlekit's eyes blew wide. Everything before forgotten in the whirlwind of kitlike memory, he sloped over as his mother did- her herbs, the scent recognised, smudging grass-stain green against the night-drop hue of Screechkit's fur. Must've been painful if she had to step in... and Nettlekit realised, if it was making everyone miserable, it probably was a good idea to stop playing this game. Whatever it was.

"Well- c'mon, Screechkit, we'll play something else. Get Hurt sucks," he proclaimed, hoping the rest would agree with him. Starlingheart wanted him to be nice, and so he would be. "Do you know any games, Sweetkit?" he asked, glancing toward the other midnight-hued child with a tilt of the head. Maybe they would like badger rides, like that apprentice-looking cat had suggested. ​

penned by pin ♡​

 

[FORESTSHADE]

She has to admit, it's nice having another queen whose kits are the same age as her own. That means they have playmates the same age, which will entertain and wear them out, leaving more time for Forestshade to get out of camp with Orchidpaw. But today, she's content to sunbathe and relax, lounging next to the medicine cat with a low purr rumbling in her throat. Belly upturned to the sky, her paws tuck close to her chest while she listens to the kits playing, although she'd be lying if she said she was paying much attention. She trills her agreement when Starlingheart comments how quickly they're growing, and when Frostbite mentions how full their paws are. When the medicine cat warns the kits away from the brambles, Forestshade only waves a casual paw, "Eh, let 'em get close. If they get pricked, they won't do it again."

Most of the chatter between kits goes in one ear and out the next. Kits can be mean, she knows. They're immature, they don't yet know how anything works, and some may just be desperate enough to assert their dominance over one another while they're young. She needs not move to her kits' defense - they can handle themselves, she knows. She does, however, lift her head when the sharp tang of blood reaches her sensitive nose. Starlingheart gets up to retrieve herbs, and by her words she finds out it was Screechkit who pricked his paw. "See? He won't do it again after that," She reaffirms her earlier words with a shrug, sitting up.​

 

[lilacfur]

It's a wonder with how loud and boisterous the little scraps could be, how much longer Starlingheart could have kept them hidden in her den before it was wrecked from kitten-play. Their initial release into camp was missed by the rosetted she-cat, having attended the same patrol as Granitepelt. She did not immediately make a line for the small gathering, but instead had reared the patrol into camp. Her prized catch hadn't been much of one at all, a meager shrew. Still, it was something, it would stock someone's belly tonight even if it wasn't the most favorable choice. Lilacfur dropped her prey beside what had been gathered earlier.

It wasn't until she heard her sister's stuttered threats did she turn her head, looking at the two newest clutches fully. "Uh oh...!" Her tone lilted when she spoke, sitting closer to Ghostkit and Flintkit. Her voice was light, but not undermining. "I wouldn't test her words if I were you." She looked to her sister with a warm smile.

"They certainly have the mouths of a ShadowClanner, but they all have so much promise." Yellow sights rested on Flintkit, last. Her voice lowered to a hush only him and Ghostkit could hear. "Have you been a good big brother for your siblings? I think that would make Starlingheart very happy." ​

[ sad hello's and mad high low's ]​

 

[batpaw.]

"HEAR MY STOLEN LULLABIES"​

The nursery is bursting at the seams and Batkit can't stand it. In order to escape the new kits, he's been spending as much time out of the nursery as possible. Currently, he's curled up at the edge of camp.

But now, the younger kits are old enough to leave the nursery. Their loud playing can be heard even from Batkit's napping spot on the other side of camp. Where was he supposed to go to get some peace and quiet? With a roll of his eyes and a scoff, the older kit stands up and turns to hide in the nursery. His apprenticeship couldn't come soon enough.​

✦ ❄ ✦​

 

[FLINTWISH]

Ghostkit joins his chorus, albeit with harsher words than he'd chosen. He finds her brazenness distasteful at first. Stony muzzle fissures with the curl of his black lips; but then a small gleam of admiration shines on exposed teeth, a recognition that Ghostkit had the courage to say the words that Flintkit wouldn't. Tall, strict ears angle forward, though, as Valeriankit and Nettlekit join them in turn. His brother answers her question and that is that; he turns his attention back to the stray raven kit who has gotten too close to what can hurt them.

They return Ghostkit's volley with a correction as earnest as any child could be, and yet it elicits an acidic laugh from the crag-mouthed tom, one that could weather any stone. They're not just stupid, he thinks, eyes crinkling with his rattlesnake grin, they're an idiot. But still he lacks the will to speak it out loud-- perhaps he recognizes the eat heat in Briarkit's glare, or perhaps he feels the weight of Granitepelt's presence. Still, the dual retorts from Sweetkit's littermates do not go unheard by the boy. Flintkit's smile fades at its corners. They're smarter than you are. "You wish that was true," he rumbles, whiskers twitching. He's smarter than Sweetkit, though that did not seem like a hard mark to achieve; and he's certainly smarter than Screechkit, too, who promptly presses his paw into the bramble wall. Another acerbic snort exits Flintkit's black nose.

The imposing pressure grows stronger and stronger. Flintkit tries not to squirm beneath it; he only looks up and realizes that it's his father's when the warrior addresses him. Him. He feels Granitepelt's tail flick against his own, and he gazes up at the larger, older version of himself (or perhaps he is simply a smaller Granitepelt). Ensure you remember that, he tells him, and Flintkit nods with as much meaning as he can put into the simple gesture. "I will," he assures, whiskers twitching. What he really takes to heart, though, is the second half of the warrior's lesson: even painful things have their uses. He wonders, briefly, shallowly, if this is why Granitepelt does not acknowledge Ghostkit (because, certainly Flintkit need not worry about that kind of inattention, and certainly Flintkit does not already feel the strain of desperation for a glance every now and again). Maybe Ghostkit needs to be hurt to learn how to be better, like he is. He flicks his gaze over her, not bothering to hide his judgement.

He is still considering this when Starlingheart calls out to him and his sister and asks them to apologize. She is not the demanding sort, too soft for that sort of aggression, but she makes Flintkit soft in turn. Still, he does not tuck his tail between his legs, nor does he cower at the scolding. Really, he thinks that what he has said to Sweetkit was not very mean at all. He's just pointing out facts. But for his mother and father he is obedient, and so he utters the phrase with some icy reluctance: "Sorry." Pointed, brief, and not entirely genuine, but he'd done what he'd been asked to do, and he thinks he has done it well enough. Still, his gaze cuts deeply into Sweetkit, a scalpel at autopsy. Not that they can see it.

His mother treats the idiot who had stuck his paw into the brambles, and Nettlekit asks him to a game; Flintkit finds neither appealing. He sits where he's at, a rooted island, waiting for something else to catch his interest; he doesn't wait long before Lilacfur crouches before him and asks him if he's been a good big brother. The concept is not entirely foreign. Starlingheart and her sister get along well, and when in the company of his siblings Flintkit thinks that he likes them well enough; but what does a good brother entail? His tall ears twitch as he considers it; looks to Briarkit and the way she coddles Sweetkit; looks to Applekit as she explains things to Valeriankit; looks to Screechkit who had defended his littermate. Truthfully, he finds them all irritating. How could irritating cats be good big siblings? Surely Flintkit is the best big brother, since he's not stupid and annoying like they are.

"I've been good," he answers Lilacfur with confidence, a small grin creeping onto his muzzle. Hopefully Starlingheart would agree.​

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[GHOSTMASK]

†—— ghostkit lapses into a displeased silence as more cats show up with forestshade and her stupid kits, a silence she plans to keep. if they won't do what she wants, then she won't talk because she's not going to waste her time on dumb cats—it's that simple. one of halfshade's kits, an annoying one, is suddenly here, then her brother, slightly less annoying. it's tolerable until it isn't. forestshade's dumb kit who ran into the brambles is, for some reason, being defended by the other cats, except her father. he just talks to flintkit, though—ghostkit has to follow him around when she wants to see the gray-pelted tom she calls her father at all.

dumb briarkit, with her dumber name, says sweetkit is smarter than her and flintkit. it's really proof that briarkit is dumb, because first of all sweetkit ran into the brambles and she and flintkit didn't, and second of all their mama's a medicine cat so they're not dumb. one of the big cats, the apprentices, comes over and offers to play badger rides—ghostkit turns dark staring eyes on them, weighing. would it be better to play badger rides instead of what nettlekit is calling 'get hurt'? then she's distracted again, because another one of forestshade's dumb kits actually touches the brambles on purpose. the white-splashed kit huffs out of her nose, because she thinks that's stupid, but she's not going to talk to a dumb cat.

"yeah, what applekit said." she finally breaks the silence, looking sullen; if she's gonna agree with anyone it's going to be applekit. because she's the deputy's daughter, plus she's clearly less stupid than the rest of these cats. applekit doesn't try to call her stupid for pointing out what is painfully obvious. applekit's dad shows up, the deputy, and ghostkit stares at him while he mews quietly to her—is he saying secret deputy things? ghostkit wants to hear them, but she can't, because her mama's telling her and flintkit to apologize, or only nettlekit will get to hear the story. ghostkit bristles instinctively—for one, she didn't do anything wrong, and for the other, nettlekit isn't any better than her. she's probably better than him. still, she doesn't want to have to sleep in the nursery with the nasty kits, so she spits out the apology like it tastes bad, "sorry." a couple other cats are here now, too, and ghostkit settles back into a sullen silence. she won't talk at all if she gets yelled at for it. being yelled at makes her pelt feel too small and too hot, and she hates it already.

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┏━•†˚୨୧⋆ OOC ꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ INFORMATION ⋆୨୧˚†•━━━━━┓ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ♡ ༘*.ﾟ

• ooc: ——
  

• 

• † ghostkit — named after the deceased ghostpaw she/her ; afab cisgender female — shadowclan — kit — 2 ☾s —— ghostkit is the daughter of the soft-spoken medicine cat starlingheart and her possessive mate, granitepelt. she looks just like her mother, and while she can be a little difficult, there's nothing really wrong with her ...... right? —— smells like milk, herbs, and .... iron? ; sounds like tbd ; speech in #EB80B7 ; thoughts in #253DC6 —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim (kitten) —— too young for romance ; open to enemies, "friends", tormenting other kits, plotting ; not open to battles, romance penned by dejavu— desklamp9 on discord for plots

• shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

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