WILD WOMEN DONT GET THE BLUES 𓇼 PINEKIT

[shellpaw]

the evening is dim, lit indigo by a sky just beginning to dot with the tremblings of stars overhead. crickets chime from their place nestled amongst the reeds where she is tucked on her belly outside the nursery, a sprawl of long - stemmed flowers strewn before her and pinekit. a kindling of talent, a lesson in weaving threaded into creating a thin daisy chain to tuck into their fur ; the mottled girl was less likely to find herself busying with things that do not pump adrenaline through her veins but shellpaw appreciated it nonetheless, the time to rest ever - aching limbs. apprentices mill about, chatting and giggling as they make their way towards their den for the night.. shellpaw only braids swifter, pale mottled pawpads moving with a steady easiness her prolonged moon in recovery had taught her, speaking with a somewhat distracted, ” i don’t want to be asleep.. when shadowclan comes for.. that girl. they probably think we stole her or something. “ as if they had any use for her here. ghost murmur lilts, offering a sniff that does little to dry her permadamp nostrils,, ” i bet she’s just here for us.. to fill her belly, anyway. i heard they don’t have much.. in the marsh. “

what could survive in the mud other than frog, lizard? velveteen nose wrinkles, strawberry - shaded luminaries lifting finally from her chain, ivory paws stained light green with effort to watch pinekit with hers. she watches for a moment, a quiet beat where mourning doves cry in the humid twilight. she thinks to change the subject.

when she speaks again, it is with a smile that doesn't touch her maw -- instead crinkling sugared amber eyes, squinting happily against bicolored cheek fluff, " you know.. i can't wait until, until youre an apprentice. " an easy admission, a thought she wretches up often ; she enjoyed the molly's friendship, missed it after apprenticeship segmented her attention and time to duty instead. when pinekit was an apprentice.. perhaps things wouldn't feel so big, so lonely. if pinekit trained with her, maybe some of her spirit, endurance would wear off on her. the dog attack lingers at the back of her mind, smolders like a burn into her skull ; uselessness. pinekit had never experienced that and the girl knows she never would, made in her mother's strict and ice - laden image. she thinks of their game, many moons back ; shellpaw as hazecloud and her as iciclefang, it had seemed so.. so inevitable. the child rolls half onto her back, the thin concave of her chest and belly exposed with the shifting of thickly curled fur, " when we, um -- when we're big enough i bet we'll even learn to fight hawks, for real, just like our moms. lichenstar says they taste good, too, but i dont know about that.. " they seemed too.. feathery.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i. @pinekit HEHE
  
  
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  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

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[Pinepaw ⭒]

-ˋˏ ༻ ❆༺ ˎˊ- It felt odd, to be so stagnant but still content in her place. Alabaster-dipped paws accustomed to throwing jabs and growing calloused running along the rocky shore now work tediously to mimic the weaving motion Shellpaw was trying to teach her. The pale apprentice had always been better at the things that called for a softer touch, something Pinekit would normally feel irked with, being bested at any type of skill, but also one of the many exceptions the willowy she-cat had somehow earned. Shellpaw’s new denmates slip around them, the white noise that was their chatter fading into nothing as they retreated towards the apprentices' den. Pinekit didn't notice, not even when the pace of Shellpaw’s paws picks up. I don’t want to be asleep… when shadowclan comes… for that girl. Her friends splintered murmur has Pinekit pausing her sloppy weaving, brindled ears twitching against the others from where a patchwork temple leaned into sand. “Those are just rumors, ain’t they?” Pinekit hums in return, forepaws slipping back into motion. In truth, Pinekit actually tried to avoid the gossip that surrounded Splashpaw, she wasn’t all that bad… not if the tiny tortoiseshell let the mystery around her presence keep clouding over.
With her paws thoroughly stained in bitter-scented green, she finally lets them rest, eagerly waiting to hear Shellpaw’s feedback on her craft when- you know.. I can’t wait until, until you’re an apprentice.
Her friend's sentiment earns a small smirk from Pinekit, she couldn’t wait either… being on the same plane as Shellpaw once more was only a shiny bonus. “Me neither, it’s gonna be so great.” The dappled kitten hums in agreement, mirroring Shellpaw’s roll to stay eye-level with her friend, verdant-tinged forepaws lying comfortably atop hers as she bundled herself close, honeyed hues flickering to and fro as Shellpaw muses about catching real hawks. “Yeah… an’then we’ll line our nest with talons and feathers.” Pinekit replies with an excited smirk, unwilling to voice the doubtful whisper that echoed in the back of her mind. Shellpaw was her friend, and Pinekit was destined for greatness, so Shellpaw was, too. “What’s training like? The apprentices den?” Her questions are spoken in at a slower pace, whispered as though they were exchanging secrets bundled up in the reeds.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── AND I BEG TO BE TESTED ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ BY GODDESSES RESTING ──┐‎

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  PINEKIT ✩ she/her, kit of riverclan, 2 moons.
  ⭃ plush-furred tortoiseshell she-kit with white dipped forepaws, tail tip, and muzzle and round, honey hued optics.
  ⭃ daughter of Iciclefang && Stormywing ࿏ sister to Cragkit && Crabkit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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[shellpaw]

thin - spoked shoulders lift and fall with a heavy breath, maw parting to release unobstructed. lilac capped paws come to rest gingerly atop a thickly curled chest as it deflates, peeling against bird-bone ribcage ” doesn’t.. seem like it. she was at the gathering with.. with a bunch of shadowclanners. when we first got there. “ she murmurs, letting her head rest back against dewy sprouts of fairy grass to lift strawberry eyes towards the dimming sky. iciclefang’s steely words at lichenstar’s meeting had unnerved her, but pinekit seemed not as prickle - furred as she was — it suits, she supposed. she’d always been bolder than shellpaw, even in their short moons of life. forward, daring, bared - teeth first.

she thinks of when the girl had pushed forward towards the riverside, intent on putting a flesh - faced twoleg from their territory alone and tucks her chin against the fluff of her chest ; that’s what a warrior would do. she’d not be small forever, wasn’t even now as much as she had been back then. their kithood slips by and still shellpaw finds she urges it forward quicker, to let their bodies catch up with wild running dreams. pinekit rolls onto her back at her side, nestles into the down of fishbone pale curls at her side and for a moment, shellpaw doesn’t think of how much further her flanks go in than the mottled she-kits. pinekit held greatness in her veins, murmured words of promise and place — despite shadowing the riverclan leader’s paws, her potential is tremulous.

there was something more for her. memories of you can’t do anything heaved through clenched fangs, tired, gritted vocals, burn at the back of her mind but images of nests lined red - gold with glory burns brighter. butterflies with wings like drowsy evening fluttery by and she does not chase them — they were onto bigger, better prey soon. a smile finds the pale of rubbery lips, and it feels strange on her steely maw, the twitching of wraithlike smile and pearlescent fang.. but the stars behind sugared amber eyes simply do not portray enough of that high - chased dream. it pours from her, waves of dreamlike wonder, beaming ever brighter when she parts those teeth to bubble a hoarse, ” yeah, yeah.. we’ll be, be the best there ever was. everyone will know it. “ when she grows into her limbs, when pinekit does as well. she thinks of a day when her nose finally clears and chest does not tighten fitfully at each use, clear images of chasing after long mottled legs, dousings of hawk feathers spinning at their peripheries.

she does not think of the twist in her chest, the obvious : she’d defied it before, hadn’t she? thick lilac tail twitches when pinekit whispers, ears inclining forward, snuggles close and shellpaw tucks her head to the side to grin conspiratorially, cheeks fluffing with proximity. it feels as though they’re sharing secrets, murmuring words for them and them alone, ” the apprentices den is.. big, and busy.. i like having my own, um.. nest. even if sleeping in there is, hard sometimes. “ to decorate, for the most part — it is lathered in scales and shells from moonbeam, of pebbles from riverpaw and pebblepaw so much the greenery seemed to sheen with life on its own. it was one of the few things that kept her mindful, nestling amongst the trove of trinkets she slowly accumulated. river favors. the water favors her, just as it always had. it was a comfort. most of the time.

” training is, sooo much fun. i’ve met, um.. the skyclan medicine cat apprentice, and some skyclan warriors at their borders.. mo - lichenstar is showing me evvverything. like the twoleg bridge and, and oh, there the, the falls — “ she hasn’t gotten to do much real training yet, aside from her slow - moving fishing lessons ( her barbel still rings a source of pride for her, still riding the shockwaves of her first catch alone. ). her apprenticeship was snails pace, though the lilac ribboned molly was none the wiser with nothing for comparison, ” it’s like water is, is pouring down right from starclan itself. “ for she had yet to see the top, the real border to windclan’s charred landscape ; the gorge. lichenstar has avoided it and shellpaw was little more inclined to visit herself, images of too - slick mud and churning tides enough to keep her tail tucked. the falls made up for it, though, if her mist - eyed enthusiasm could be told.

her head tilts, ruddy eyes fixing on brilliant golden, creased at the rheumy edges, ” i bet, i bet they’ll let you and your mentor patrol with us alll the time if i ask. who do you.. think you’ll get? “

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ° 𓇼 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

• i.
  
  
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  SHELLPAW 𓆉 SHE / HER. SEVEN MOONS OLD, APPRENTICE OF RIVERCLAN, MENTORED BY LICHENTAIL ; SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. PENNED BY ANTLERS ----------------- ° ❀ ⋆
  frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes.
  
  she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore and plush enough to conceal the juts of malnutrition beneath. tufted elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic cold pink - purple at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, further made obvious by the feathering weakness in half - whispered tones.
  

  CHRONICALLY ILL ; prone to wheezing, nose at a constant drip from longterm illness - induced nasal polyps. not contagious.

  
  

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[Pinepaw ⭒]

-ˋˏ ༻ ❆༺ ˎˊ- For a moment, Pinekit gets snagged on what the other says, about Splashpaw and Shadowclan, and silence drifts between the duo for a moment. The whole ordeal she pushes to the side, shoving into a shallow hole in her brain to unearth later. Sharp golden optics watch as rusted amber grow distant, Shellpaw’s far-away look reminds the tortoiseshell of the face her mother gets when she becomes too wrapped up in her stories of past adventures. The lilac ribboned apprentice is somewhere else, she thinks, and for once she doesn’t interrupt. Finally, Shellpaw confirms, thin words promising that they would be the best. Pinekit lets herself fall into the future, running along the rivers bank with Shellpaw and her brothers, Shimmerkit too, perhaps. She thinks of all the night she and the flowery apprentice will spend together, doing just this. All Pinekit can do is give an eager nod against the grass, trying not to let her gaze dance down to the flora carnage that still stained snowy paws, knowing she’d be likely to pick at them. Big and noisy, Shellpaw hums, lips twisting into something Pinekit wasn’t so familiar with, but found that she quite liked the way Shellpaw held a grin that promised something exciting to come, and the patchwork girl gives a soft, eager scrunch her features, nose slightly crinkling with play. “I can’t wait to have my own nest. I’ll letcha decorate it if ya want.” Pinekit sighs dreamily, picturing being able to sprawl outwards without knocking against a cousin or a littermate. “Can I put mine near yours? So if you can’t sleep… y’know, we can do somethin’ like this ‘till you can.” It was a great plan in Pinekit’s mind, a forepaw lightly dances in the air to gesture what like this was.
Shellpaw always had a quiet way about her, so she’d make an ideal nest neighbor. Besides, who else was she gonna do all this cutesy flower-and-stars stuff with?
Words composed of silk whisk Pinekit’s train of thought to somewhere else, and as Shellpaw speaks, different faces flash behind pools of flickering sunshine- faces she thinks the Skyclanners she speaks of would wear.
From what her mother has said, she imagines a soft jawline rounded with plush fur, broad shoulders and muscled legs. Pupils fall still into Shellpaws when she hears the hitch, a fumble born from speaking too quickly. The girl only smirks, she could understand, perhaps. She wonders if her gaze, comparable to the sun, burns into Shellpaw’s dusk the way she feels like it might. Something awestruck shimmers in golden depths, her maw parts as she tries to picture what she tries to describe. Something monstrous, thick water falling from the clouds and crashing onto a rocky floor below where the cascades splinters into clouded white, as it does when a kitten jumps into the shallows too hard. “Does it scare you? The falls. Are they as loud as everyone says?.” With her own eyes stretched wide, she searches the others expression, looking for the answers she wants. The next thing that is spoken between them makes Pinekit giggle, “You can show me all the best spots, ‘kay? Oh! We can practice moves with each other, too- we’ll be ahead of everyone else n’no time.” A forepaw taps against one milky-hued forelimb, as though making physical contact would make her words any truer. Pinekit knows what will happen when her training begins, and has all but done the work to ensure it. She knows there will never be a fair spar between them. She holds the physical contact as long as her brain holds the thought, and then her paw drops back to her original place.
Shellpaw's question earns a knowing quirk of Pinekits maw, ear flicking against the lush grass with a thoughtful hum. “I dunno, I hope it’ll be someone good, though.” Pinekit doesn’t say what truly crosses her mind, that in an ideal world if she could not be placed under her mother, another council member would suffice- spare for Foxtail, maybe. “Is it ever… hard?” The vaguely phrased question goes lower than the whisper Pinekit had been holding, dropping to nearly just a breath with a rasped edge. The dappled kitten does not specify whether the question is for Shellpaws sake or hers, she doesn’t want to clarify.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── AND I BEG TO BE TESTED ⋅ ࿏ ⋅ BY GODDESSES RESTING ──┐‎

• 
  
  
  

• 

• 
  PINEKIT ✩ she/her, kit of riverclan, 2 moons.
  ⭃ plush-furred tortoiseshell she-kit with white dipped forepaws, tail tip, and muzzle and round, honey hued optics.
  ⭃ daughter of Iciclefang && Stormywing ࿏ sister to Cragkit && Crabkit
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by Noor ↛ @toyangel on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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