private WHAT YOU KNOW — chervilkit

[ROOSTERSTRUT]

Roosterstrut leads his kin through the thorny passage, beyond the cover of the pines and into the open marshlands. Trees sparsely populated the territory outside of camp, providing the shadowy cover that the clan was known for using to their advantage. However, much of the land consisted of still pools of water and mushy swamps. It wasn't every cat's drink of milk, but it was home to Roosterstrut, despite his flame-colored pelt that stuck out like a sore toe.

Pale green hues scan the horizon, a deep breath of air filling his lungs and renewing his soul. He had been cooped up in Starlingheart's den for too long, far too long for his own comfort considering her controversial usage of the lungwort. Many tragedies and unfortunate situations plagued ShadowClan as of late, so slivers of time like this spent with his kin were not taken for granted by the warrior. "Pretty nice getting out of camp, huh?" Roosterstrut sighed, glancing down at Chervilkit. "Once you start your training, you'll be seeing much more than this." Poor kid. Hopefully Chilledstar would make her an apprentice at the next meeting. She had much to catch up on compared to other youths her age.

In the midst of taking in the damp air around them, Roosterstrut caught wind of something foreign ( and oddly sweet ). "What the...?" The red tabby tom grunted, wrinkling his nose and scouring the vicinity with his gaze before spotting a shiny, hollowed... half of an egg? He could not find a better method of describing it, though whatever it was, it did not look natural. "What is that?" He tentatively stepped forward, tail lowered to the ground as were his ears. Within the basin were bright and colorful leaves... or at least he thought they were leaves. First broken orange fruits, now this? Had the twolegs gone mad?

₊ ⋆ * ⊹ ₊ ☾ —— 𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙚𝙧

• @CHERVILKIT

• 

• 

  ✰ ROOSTERSTRUT
  —— he/him; warrior of shadowclan
  —— heteroflexible; single
  —— red tabby tom with long hair and pale green eyes
  —— "speech", thoughts, attack
  —— link to full tags; @ on discord for plots.
  —— penned by beatles

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[CHERVILSHADE]

Chervilkit had never been outside the ivy prison of her beloved home, as though the world only existed upon nebulous mist beyond her vision, catching glimpses of it through errant conversations and sights of reverie through the tangle. Still, the concept didn't feel real. It was like a fantasy dipped in damp shadow, as if the little specter floated just above the worries and woes of war and wane. If the outside were a mirror of water, then she must have been the great empyrean's reflection that rested just above the deep. Still, she wished to see that simulacrum for what it was.

So, when Roosterstrut (or Uncle Roo, as the Little Ghost had deemed him) offered the chance to travel outside of the nursery for a change, she jumped at the chance. She was old enough to, but she figured that age was not the issue she faced. Still, in the face of excitement, she could barely contain herself. She was going outside!

The dilute tortoiseshell intook the moist air that hung along the marshes of Shadowclan, the crispness of autumn almost cutting at glass-tempered throat, and she was careful not to become drunk in her ecstasy. Soft breezes nipped at her as she traveled through the shadows, now weaving between the patches of murk instead of wallowing in them. Behind her lay a wake of crudely-snapped twigs and leaves, and even louder was the clamor of their last throes, but she had never learned to move stealthily. Nor did she attempt to, for the joy of exploration left her mindless and carefree. Today, she was not Little Ghost, but another feline in the grand thicket of their territory.

That was before she froze on Roosterstrut's exclamation. Keen, hornwort-green gaze spotted a cracked nest like the lower half of a broken bird's egg, though it looked too colorful and big to ever conceivably come from a bird. Then again, the only birds she had ever closely observed were the carcasses of the fresh-kill pile. Little, brightly-colored pebbles lined the inside of the nest (or egg, she hadn't decided which of these two extremes this strange object was). Chervilkit's pinkish nose twitched, though the scent was wholly foreign to her. It did not smell like the prey she had picked through, but something completely different - though she lacked the words to describe it with her juvenile vocabulary and lack of experience in the world.

"Uncle Roo, what is that?" She reiterated his comment, as though he would hold all the answers to her burning questions, despite the warrior's confusion. The overgrown kitten stood behind her kin, as though she were poised and ready to run, with an arching back and nettle-sharp hackles to match. "It looks like a nest. Maybe we shouldn't disturb whoever this belongs to." Her anxiety would get the worst of her - and she imagined a great owl or eagle swooping down to take them both. With bloodthirsty talons of steel and a deviously-curled beak of flint, it would surely swallow the two cats whole...
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