camp WHEN WE WERE YOUNG [✦] kittypet mice

Dec 12, 2022
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In her nest there is a box and in that box are a collection of toys. Brightly colored balls that jingle whenever they are batted around while others make a delightful crinkling noise. Among those toys, though, the box also holds tiny fake mice. She remembers, fondly, when she had been a kit. Still young enough she had not been taken from her mother yet, she and her littermates had swatted those toy mice across the wood floors of their first home. They had pounced and bit and kicked and chased. Endless hours of fun had been derived from these objects but for a while they had sat untouched. What was the point in playing with a toy now that she knew what the real thing felt like?

That night, when she had settled onto her bed in the setting sun, a purr rumbling in her throat when her twolegs had stroked her back and kissed the top of her head, she had spotted that box of toys and an idea had formed in her mind. SkyClan held no shortage of kits, kits who had endless amounts of energy and who were going to have to learn how to hunt when they became apprentices. Perhaps the fake mice could get some use, after all.

When she goes to leave the next morning she paws through the box first, picking out five of the small creatures and grabbing them by the tails. It is hard to carry so many for the distance she must travel to get to SkyClan but she reassures herself it would be worth it.

When she enters the camp she puts the toys between her paws, her eyes scanning the clearing for any kittens that may be interested.

// she is looking for kits to gift these to but adult cats are welcome to post asking about them as well!

 
I'VE LEARNED TO LOVE YOU, HONEY!

"what's that?"

she said between a yawn, with a stretch. drowsykit wobbled her way over to the warrior, sniffing the weird looking things, that kind of looked like prey, but didn't smell like it. her nose crinkled before she simply looked up at the other, brows furrowing. she wondered if her brothers would want one... they really were the only kits she talked to. or maybe.. maybe it would make her mama happy?

"can i have one for... uhm... for my brothers? or my mama? please? I promise to be very careful with it. I won't mess up a thing."

she promised with a gentle touch of her chest before she let out yet another yawn, sitting down as her eyes got heavy once more. she couldn't sleep now... even if the idea was tempting... because she needed to give her family gifts.

 
A look of visible distaste sours on Slate's features when one of the daylight warriors (her name escapes him, as there were so many cats to keep track of as it is) enters camp with kittypet toys dangling from her jaws. Twolegs gave cats colorful and noisy objects to stimulate their brains, which were already rotted from the tasteless kibble they consume and the boredom of watching the world through a window. Out in the forest, there was no need for toys. Why were these kittypets so insistent on spreading twoleg influence to SkyClan? They took an oath at the border to learn and respect their ways, not the other way around. Ridiculous.

One of the kits, of course, is unable to resist the appeal of such flashy objects. Slate himself remembers being obsessed with the fuzzy mice toys in particular as a youth. "You'd be better off practicin' with a real mouse, kid." Comments the lead warrior from his spot, flicking a torn ear as he turns a judgmental stare toward Fantastream. "Sorry, but we ain't interested in convertin' to the ways of kittypets." He wasn't really sorry.

// feel free to just ignore him, he's a sourpuss
 

⭒✧ Always seeking the interesting happenings in camp, Chalk was quick to rise at the sight of a bandana'd cat carrying cargo. Careful strides brought him within earshot. Drowsykit's query met him first and it was only after ducking beneath a final fern that he saw what she spoke of. Tufted fakes, spinning from twisted-fabric tails. The cream tom had been offered them in the past by particularly persistent twoleg apprentices and found them charming, if a little boring.

Before he could question where Fantastream had found such a stock, Slate met the pair. Bewildered amusement clouded Chalk's thoughts at the lead warrior's comment, shown only by the faintest wrinkle of his maw. Odd for a cat living in Skyclan to have such distaste for kittypets. The memory of his conversation with Blazestar burgeoned, the leader vowing not to forget his kittypet past. It seemed not all in his upper ranks were as open-minded. A shame. "Practice is practice," the daylight warrior offered simply. And then, with a fraction more patience, "I'm sure your siblings will learn a lot from them Drowsykit."
⭒ ———————————— ✧⭒
 

It seemed to be routine amidst the Daylight Warriors to bring new tat into the camp. Some adorned themselves with it, taking pride in things that contributed nothing to their survival, others treated it with the indifference it deserved. Then, there were those like Slate and himself, cats who had seen the ugliness of the Twoleg's neighbourhood and wanted nothing more than to be rid of it forever. Again he found himself agreeing with the maine coon, the very idea causing him to do an acerbic double-take towards the Lead Warrior as he spoke his opinions. The white-pawed warrior stood his ground like a giant, silvery statue, jaws clenched together in a passive display of support for his peer's words - the stench of Twolegs caused him to grimace more now than he ever had done before. Still, he knew the others thought differently, and it wasn't surprising when a Daylight Warrior stood up for Fantastream. Black-tufted ears twitched in thought, before finally, he let out a huff. "Play, not practice," he reminded Chalk with a head tilt. They were different things to the silver tabby, unable to co-exist no matter how many times the Queens tried to convince him otherwise. He'd never had such toys when he was growing up and he had become an alright hunter (admittedly below average, though the Lead Warrior liked to put that down to luck rather than any true reflection of his skill). He shuffled his paws into the earth below, hoping to find comfort by kneading the well-trodden grasses around SkyClan's camp. Even as play, the idea of Twoleg toys around the camp was an uncomfortable one.
 

✿—— bobbie spots drowsykit wobbling her way across camp, the lilac queen's soft white paws quickly following after. a daylight warrior whose name she can't quite place stands in camp, a few familiar shapes piled at her paws. they remind bobbie of cheerful sunny days of kithood, spent batting the fuzzy shapes across creaky wooden floors and pursuing them up richly pelted hills. her smoky-furred daughter politely asks for one for her two brothers, or even bobbie herself, who offers both the daylight warrior and her kit a gentle smile. what a lovely idea!

of course, the cheery moment is quickly over—no thanks to their two crankiest lead warriors, she thinks in a rare sullen moment. the dark-furred one who'd once given her a fright chastises the daylight warrior—fantastream, she suddenly recalls—while the silver one interjects that this is play, not practice. Her muzzle instinctively wrinkles with a natural distaste; as a former kittypet obviously bearing a bright collar and a queen, once carrying a swollen stomach and now three trailing kits, she has met these attitudes before. chalk's kinder interjection is lost amongst a growing irritation, rare for the queen, but she is more than a touch fed up with this behavior. how many cats have turned up their muzzles at the red collar looped about her fluffy neck? few, but enough. how many cats have acted as though the duties of a queen consist of little work? even fewer, but enough.

"you'd do well to re-remember which clan you call home," she interjects sharply, lids dropping on disgruntled green eyes. a twitch of her half-tail is the only sign of the irritation some cats might consider mild, but it is strong for bobbie. she doesn't appreciate these ..... these words, these implications, being put into her kits' heads. that they are somehow lesser for being born of kittypets, even implied, is not an idea she wants drowsykit getting into her mind and she is determined to put a stop to it right now. bobbie mews pointedly, "if you'd pr-prefer to avoid the ways of us 'kittypets', perhaps you'd both do better in w-windclan."


  • ooc: oops she is a little pissed !!
  • xFuluhM.png
  • ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins
    she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s
    —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred..
    —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim
    —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles
    penned by dejavudesklamp9 on discord for plots
  • shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

 
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( tags )
Lupinekit followed on the heels of Bobbie -- she was rarely seen without at least fluffy black shadow trotting behind her. He was prepared to greet his sibling with a happy purr and play with their new toy, but was greeted with a gaggle of bristling warriors.

He didn't really have the capacity to understand why everyone was so upset by the orange molly's trinkets, but the tension in the air made his ears tickle with trepidation. The cats seemed to be disagreeing about whether they were to be played with or practiced with, but Lupinekit had no clue why it was a point of contention. His mother stepped in to toss in some sharp words of her own, and he could only look on with wide eyes full of stress, he'd never heard her snap at anyone like this before!

It was then that he noticed that Drowsykit remained in the middle of everyone, the controversial little mouse at her paws. A flicker of annoyance sparked in the meek kitten -- perhaps mirroring his mothers -- as he stepped up to be with Drowsykit. He sat tall in front of her, mewing at Fantastream, "These gifts are very nice, thank you..." Lupine's gaze shifted towards the angry-faced warriors, still nervous but with a tightness in his eyes that said You can stop bothering my sister now, thanks.


"We'll use it well for uhm, play-practicing," He told them evenly. What was play-practicing exactly? He didn't know. It sounded like the fairest option, though.

//mobile ! hehe
"SPEECH"


 
The funny twoleg mice are always fun to smack around. They weren't real mice, but they were still fun to pounce on and tear into. She smiles as Fantastream brings them to the kits to play with, and all seems well. They were harmless little things, the worst they could do was hit you in the face if flung at you.

Which she has done many times to her twoleg.

And Fish.

Thats the fun part, to her. Utilizing them as weapons.

But where there's kittypet things being observed or talked about, there's always one of the clans biggest party poopers. And today, both of them were here. Slate and Silversmoke voice their discontent as she expected, but she's learned to block them out. They aren't worth her time. But when Bobbie speaks up, she is immediately reinvested. She agrees with her completely.

So, giving herself a good shake to fluff her fur, she strides over to sit by the kits. She doesn't want them to get stressed by the incoming argument...So she decides to encourage them to play.

"Don't mind them, dears. These little mice are fun to play with! I like to see how far I can smack them. It's quite satisfying, especially when you pretend its an enemy!" She says.

Oh, to be able to have the strength to actually smack a Windclanner into the wall so hard they bounce off it.... Unfortunately, she was not blessed with such POWER. So the little mice must suffer for her weakness. Though to be fair...Some of them were small enough she might be able to.....​
 
SkyClan's small collective of cats with anti-kittypet values was obviously in the minority, but often vocal in their opinions. Slate wouldn't have agreed to stick around a clan like this had his brother not been living here. He supposes that he doesn't mind kittypets who have given up their old ways, like Blazestar, but there were always those who would viciously defend the kibble-eaters as if their lives depended on it.

He certainly ignores the more subtle disagreement from one of the former shelter cats, his comment only earning a sneer from Slate. Silversmoke offers a brief input as well, short but indicative of his own feelings about house cats. Odd, how the two seemed to hold similar opinions more often than not, and yet they still couldn't bring themselves to forgive and forget. Eh, he was fine with the awkward gray area they were in — minimal interactions besides the occasional meeting of gazes.

A feminine voice, one unexpected at that, slices through the air and catches Slate's attention. His large cranium swiveled on his shoulders until his gaze found none other than Bobbie, who was giving him and Silversmoke a piece of her mind. "'Scuse me?" The lead warrior grunted with a lash of his bushy tail.

Being sassed was something that Slate did not take kindly to.

The scarred Maine Coon rises from his resting position, standing now to his comparatively towering height and practically prowling in Bobbie's direction to confront her. He steps past the ignorant kits, only excited by the prospect of toys, as well as the more passive warriors who try to diffuse the situation.

"You come to the borders, you agree to live by our ways. Not the other way around." As a compromise, kittypets were allowed to keep their ridiculous names and don their twoleg-given accessories, and not to mention afford the luxury of going to their cozy and secure nests at night. The kittypets had their way around here, as far as Slate was concerned. Why should clan-born kits be coddled with fake prey when natural hunting targets like bugs and wads of moss were already at their disposal? SkyClan didn't need that garbage laying around camp. They were wild cats, first and foremost, and they didn't play with toys.

An icy warning draws from the former street cat's maw as a menacing amber stare bores down into Bobbie's own green pair, "You'd do well to remember that." In that moment, he does not feel like a clan cat bound by moral code, but an intimidating rogue on the brink of putting a rival in their place.

// someone tell him to take a hike /hj
 
I'VE LEARNED TO LOVE YOU, HONEY!

"oh... oh i- i didn't mean to... make you upset i just thought–"

she swallowed back thickly, scrambling away from the daylight warrior, and slate. she didn't mean to make him upset. but it gets worse. while chalk's words are nice, they do nothing to soften the tone from silversmoke, making her visibly wince. why were they so upset with her? was it so bad to want to have these... mice thingys? she frowns, looking over at her mom, who's upset too. oh... what had she done? her ears flattened and she whined.

"i-i..."

she doesn't understand why she's so upset. she sniffled, turning towards her brother who is keen on protecting her. she leans into it, moving closer to him, almost cowering from the loudness of the warriors.

"lulu... i didn't mean to make them upset... i... i'm sorry... th...that would be nice. we can, uhm, go get crowkit... that's okay, right?"

she didn't want everyone so mad at her, anymore. she was sorry.

 



She had not meant to cause a problem, honest. When Drowsykit comes up to her she smiles with a wide smile, is about to tell the young she-cat to take as many as she wanted, they were for her siblings and denmates as well as herself. But then chaos erupts. A large black furred tom that she recognizes as Slate butts in, saying they were not interested in converting to the ways of kittypets. Her eyebrows knit together at that. Convert? She wasn't tryna convert anyone, just trying to create a bit of fun for the kits of the clan.

She moves ever so closer to Chalk as the other daylight warrior takes her side and nods her head "Sorry fer all the fuss mister Slate but I didn't mean any harm, jus' wanted to give the kits somethin' fun to do is all" she says, trying to be polite despite the confusion sending her head spinning. She had thought this Clan welcomes kittypets with open arms? Why would they invite them in if they were so adverse to their ways here?

Bobbie leaps to her defense, telling the black and silver furred lead warriors off. There's a tense moment where Fantastream is convinced the menacing looking tom is going to use claws against her to retaliate, but all he does is spit more venom. It is in that moment she has a realization. This cat was a bully. He and the silver one had a scrap of power in between their teeth and they were desperate for more and desperate to use that scrap however they could. "Do you feel good tellin' kits they can't have fun mister?" She shoots back at him, tone polite despite the obvious double meaning behind her words.

She smiles at Sweetybee, her kind words along with Lupinekit's curiousity touching her heart "I used ta play with them with my siblings all the time, I was hopin' the kits could get some entertainment out of em" she explains then, ignoring the two fox-breaths over to the other side of her she walks over to the kits "No worries kid, no one's mad at ya, you and Lupinekit run along and take these to the other kits, okay?" she slides the toy mice over as she speaks and winks at the young SkyClanner before straightening and sending a thankful smile in Bobbies direction.

 

✿—— she waits for the wave of guilt, of apologies, to arrive, but it doesn't. she feels nothing but a firm if trembling certainty, that she won't show her kits that they can put up with this kind of thing quietly. lupinekit, bless him, thanks fantastream and offers an even-toned response, diffusing the tension alongside sweetybee—for all of a moment.

then suddenly a grunting voice is cutting through it, the dark cat unfolding to quite literally twice her own size and lurching over, lumbering past the cheerful kits and friendly warriors. he looms over her, speaking icy words with a threat woven into them. for a moment she thinks he's genuinely going to strike her, and part of her cries out to defer, to apologize, to retreat. she won't. she won't. she refuses to take these thinly veiled threats, to show her kits that they should defer to a cat just because they were bigger or stronger or meaner. she won't be bullied out of what she thinks, what she wants, again, not in front of her children.

bobbie's tail twitches; the amount of cats who might look down on their daylight warriors is small, but they're loud. she's on the verge of saying something she might really regret when drowsykit pipes up, sniffling, crying out that she's upset everyone. offering an extremely nasty 'see, you made a kit cry' look to slate, she weaves her small body past his looming form, rushing towards poor drowsykit as she cowers against her brother and offering fantastream an appreciative smile in return.

"shh, no, lovebug. it's not y-your fault, okay?" bobbie soothes, pressing her nose to her kit's shaking head if drowsykit will permit it. thankful eyes settle on fantastream and she really wonders why a cat would want to ruin such innocent fun. she nods, nudging her kits and agreeing, "fantastr-stream is right on. you two can take the mice and go find the other k-kits, alright?" she pads closer to the daylight warrior, flat green eyes daring the two bullies in the camp to object. hopefully they'll just leave or, better yet, someone will tell them to head out so she doesn't have to. fantastream is right—who would want to tell some kits they shouldn't have fun?


  • ooc: ——
  • ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins
    she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s
    —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred..
    —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim
    —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles
    penned by dejavudesklamp9 on discord for plots
  • shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)

 
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Tension crackles like a pending storm between a small group of warriors in camp. Blazestar ceases his conversation with a cat giving a report, his ear twitching with slight irritation. He’d broken up more than one argument among SkyClanners, but his displeasure mounts when he sees who is involved in the spat. Silversmoke and Slate loom before two of the daylight warriors—and Bobbie. Two of her kits cower, looking sadly toward some shiny plaything they’d been brought while their mother whips her tawny tail behind her in a show of rarely-seen ferocity.

Blazestar abandons his cohort, lifting his chin and sweeping his tail against the camp floor. “What is this about?” He demands. “Arguing in front of kits? Over kittypet toys?” He gives first Silversmoke and then Slate a hard look, though he does not reprimand either openly. Neither had broken any rules—but he does not like their prejudice, had voiced it to both, and he certainly does not like it being shown toward valuable members of their Clan like Sweetybee and Fantastream.

And Bobbie. He attempts to meet her eyes, but quickly gives up so he can clear the air. “Silversmoke, I saw Auburnflame looking for you earlier. Slate, I need you to take a patrol to the Twolegplace border. Find some warriors you are not going to butt heads with, please.” There’s no hostility in his voice, but the firmness is unmistakable. He will not let this foolishness continue any longer, and certainly not in front of kits who just wanted to play.

Orders given, he lowers himself to Drowsykit and Lupinekit’s level. A massive golden paw sweeps the pair of mice toys their direction. “Why don’t you go show your brother and the other kits?” He rises, watching them with twitching whiskers. “I’m sure many a cat here, myself included, first learned to hunt on Twoleg mice…” He clears his throat, a resounding finality in the gruff noise. “Play is practice when you’re a kit.


  •  
  • blaise . blazestar
    — he/him ; leader of skyclan
    — pansexual ; divorced ; single
    — longhaired flame point Ragdoll with blue eyes
    — “speech”, thoughts, attack
    — penned by Marquette
    — chibi by Mercibun
 
She frowned as Drowsykit began to get upset. "No sweety...Nothing is your fault. Slate and Silversmoke are just wet mossbeds who don't know how to have fun." She says. They have yet to prove her wrong! "They see someone who lives a different lifestyle and think they are better, is all." She adds. Personally, she doesn't care how you live. The world is more colorful for it, thinking one way is better than another is foolish.

She looks sharply to Slate. He has upset the CHILDREN and so her temper has flared. There is no warmth in her eyes, no calmness. Most would consider the venom and frigidity uncharacteristic, but Sweetybee knows it isnt.

"The only thing stopping me from dragging my claws down your face is my own self control, which wanes with every narrow minded word out of your mouth." She hissed. "Skyclan welcomes kittypets as daylight warriors, it does not force us to give up our ways, only promise to follow the warrior code and pledge loyalty to Skyclan." She continued, taking a step towards Slate, nearly in his face.

"And besides..... Without us.....You'd still be locked in a cage, or even made into a kittypet yourself." She finished, narrowing her eyes.

Blazestar arrives thankfully, and she steps away from Slate to sit by Bobbie and the kits again. She respects Blazestar, and will go back to behaving now and not feeling the need to bite someone.​
 
The lead warrior suppresses an earth-turning roll of his eyes once he hears the kits, particularly the first one who had approached Fantastream, crumble into a teary-eyed stammering mess. It wasn't Slate's intention to upset the kits, especially knowing how much of a damn fuss his clanmates would make over it, but now he'd get deemed even more of an asshole.

Fantastream is also criticizing him for ruining her effort to make the clan's kits happy (albeit in a more gentle manner than Bobbie). He was adamant that he hadn't done anything wrong and that everyone else was overreacting, so any attempts to reel some guilt out of him would fall flat.

It was Bobbie who was feeding the flames now, breaking out from her meek and mousey shell in order to stand up to him, though she appears to keep her trap shut after he tells her off. Perhaps the message got through her tiny skull, or she was just holding back so as not to upset her children any more. Either way, Slate was perfectly fine with her getting off his back and minding her own business.

A slitted eye angles toward Sweetybee now, his tail lashing back and forth as yet another clanmate voices their disdain toward him. The lead warrior did not make these judgments without reason, as unbelievable as that may sound. Opinionated and vocal about many issues pertaining to clan life, his especially harsh criticisms toward the kittypet lifestyle were sourced from his own personal experience living with twolegs. Slate had been born a kittypet (though the clan would have to pry that information from his cold, dead paws) and, as a rogue, witnessed the cruelty and heartless behavior of the bipedal beasts. Why any cat would obey the twolegs as their masters and sole providers was absolutely beyond him.

A heightened response of aggression is triggered once the pink bow-sporting daylight warrior dares to physically hurt him, which Slate does not take lightly. Threats like that would get her killed out on the streets; she was lucky to have the protection and moral obligation of her clanmates. "I'd like to see you try it." Is all Slate snorts, glaring down at the daylight warrior who is mouse-lengths away from his face. This she-cat wouldn't survive a mere second underneath his weight and the pin of his claws, he reckoned. She had no idea who she was talking to and it was apparent that she didn't possess as much intelligence as she did bold stupidity. It was a good thing in her case that she demonstrated self-control, otherwise Slate would take no issue with testing the threat she posed.

Not unexpected, the flame point leader eventually shows up to put a swift end to the heated arguing. Slate grits his teeth, frustrated beyond belief. He takes no issue with the daylight warriors who don't bring a bunch of twoleg junk to camp and show up for the clan when it matters most, unlike cats like Fantastream and Tiggerbounce, the latter of which had missed the battle with WindClan entirely. Of course he, along with many others, was indebted to the cats who helped him escape from the shelter but a line had to be drawn somewhere.

Well, Slate certainly wouldn't find any patrol mates here. His fur still bristling with hostility, the lead warrior let a huff escape his nostrils before he spun around and stormed off.
 

"What? I didn't say anything." Eyes widen in an indignant surprise as he feels the glares of clanmates settle upon him with far too much ease for the Lead Warrior to remain happy sitting down. Fur bristled as he turned his sharp gaze towards Bobbie, resisting the urge to tilt his head in confusion. Had he worn his disgust so clearly? All he had said was a tatty old toy was hardly good practice for a living one. Nostrils flare as the edges of his teeth begin to show, head drooping as if the large tom was getting ready to pounce. He felt like it. The Queen's words were dry twigs to an already growing flame, all at once his battle wounds seemed to sting as it was suggested he'd be better off joining the very same clan he'd protected her from. He didn't get a chance to speak his mind before Slate spoke for the both of them. No matter how much spite told him to talk over everyone, to bark hard truths and let them know they'd be dead if the real warriors ever turned tail, he found himself stunned into a bitter silence. How dare she? After everything he'd tried to do for his clan?

Then, Blazestar came over and the maine coon, whose tension rolled off of him like a coiled snake, shot the leader a glare that even he was surprised to offer. 'Why would Auburnflame be looking for me? Isn't he on patrol?'' The idea gave him enough pause for his frazzled fur to settle partially. Just as he begun to consider the words as truth, a means to escape a situation before his words pierced what little peace was left, he reconsidered Sweetybee's words and found himself staring directly at the Daylight Warrior. Threats, gloating, and insults: the trio of words he'd have associated with Slate or half of the kittypets he'd met out on the streets, not a SkyClanner.

Unsheathed claws were tempted to ice such insubordination, but Blazestar's passiveness spoke of an approval for such things, as if he deserved to be knocked down a peg. Silversmoke thought back to Slate's promotion, how warnings of the maine coon's true nature seemed to fall on deaf ears, how he seemingly hadn't earned the ragdoll's respect, and how now, it seemed he still lacked it. It hurt, he understood it, and it still felt like teeth at his throat. He let out a huff and, without further comment, stormed off towards the camp's entrance, likely to go off and train once more as if it were the only thing he knew how to do.
 

✿—— blazestar's arrival cools the unfamiliar anger coiling itself in her chest like a strange serpent. shame brushes the edges of her ears as he leaves behind the cat he'd been conversing with to break up the admittedly petty spat, unfamiliar and unwanted. she's not normally like this; in her moons in skyclan, she'd never had a real fight with another cat, not until now anyways. it feels uncharacteristic for her, and she doesn't particularly like to think of the cruel words she'd exchanged with the two lead warriors in front of her children.

... she can't bring herself to say she's sorry to the pair, though, because in her mind that would mean she is in the wrong. and that is one thing she's certainly not convinced she is—because how dare these two behave as though their daylight warriors are in the wrong for wanting kits to have some harmless fun? it wasn't as though they knew anything of the work required of a queen, clearly, and she doesn't want her children to grow up thinking it's not honorable work. she might sometimes feel that she does nothing for the clan (a nagging thought tells her this is true), but she won't have her kits feeling that way, saying nothing of the two's remarks towards kittypets.

he doesn't meet her gaze, and it feels damning, though his words to her children are gruffly kind. sweetybee herself takes some issue with slate, but eventually both he and silversmoke storm off. the cloud clutching at her own head is less sullen and more guilty—she nods, nudging her kits towards the nursery with a silent instruction in her gaze: go find the other kits. the small tabby can't bring herself to meet blazestar's eyes now, the necessary explanation suddenly unable to emerge, "i'm sorry. i - he -" she's willing to offer him the apology, but she can't find it in herself to explain the reasons for the thoroughly unnecessary argument. "i - listen, you t-two go find one of the other queens. i need to get some a-air." she delivers the firm instructions to her kits before turning and padding guiltily away.


  • ooc: just wanted to squeeze in a final reaction / out post :3
  • ❀ bobbie — for her kithood love of bobby pins
    she/her ; cisgender female — skyclan — queen — 38 ☾s
    —— bobbie is a beautiful but insecure lilac tabby, dotted with white patches and with pale green eyes. a queen of skyclan, she's sweet and kind if prone to melancholy; the heartbreaking end of a lifelong romance has left her scarred..
    —— smells like sweet lavender & tea leaves ; sounds like sansa stark ; speech in #D64933, thoughts in #B1C797
    —— peaceful / healing powerplay permitted ; attacks/contact in underline ; won’t start fights ; will flee ; will show mercy ; won't kill or maim
    —— pansexual panromantic monogamist, divorced, not looking ; open to friendships, enemies, casual interactions, plotting ; not open to unplanned romance & unplanned battles
    penned by dejavudesklamp9 on discord for plots
  • shhh don't look here (battle info will go here at some point)