camp words from bogs and marshes || intro & lost tooth

[loampelt]

---

There has been neither twig, branch, nor briar safe from Loam. She snatches every loose one she finds, whether it be fallen from the reinforced walls of some den or blown off of a tree. Loam has taken to chewing on anything and everything for the single minded task of alleviating the horrible itch that has settled in the roof of her mouth. It's distracting and constant. The twig that has the unfortunate duty of itch-relief is a tiny thing, sure to come apart into splinters by the time the moon has risen more than a kittenstep. Loam had borrowed it with an ungentle yank to the briar bush that Loam has come to understand to be the warrior's den.

But then something strange happens.

A brief moment of pain, and then relief. Loam blinks and blinks, then looks down to where what is clearly a shard of bone laying innocently in the mud at her feet.

"Uh," Says Loam. She's almost certain bones aren't supposed to fall out of her mouth.

If her mother were here, she would know what to do. If her mother were here, Loam wouldn't need to say a word. (A strange sense of deja vu: her mother is all harsh lines, but her eyes are kind. They are always kind. "Don't you remember?" Her mother asks, "This happened before. You'll get a new tooth in, better than the old one.") But Loam's mother isn't here, and Loam is stuck with ShadowClan while she waits for her mother to come and find her.

ShadowClan, which is okay, but which calls her Loamkit like she'd forget she's young. It's only been a quarter moon-- Loam can be patient!-- but she's starting to miss her mother, and she's starting to miss her brothers.

"Uh," Says Loam again. She glances around-- all sorts of cats mill about. They don't seem concerned about Loam's bones falling out of her head.

("Don't you remember?")

(Loam doesn't like her concern. She nods slowly.) ​

Loam tries to speak up, but she doesn't have her words right now. She never has her words when she wants them-- they stick to her throat or to her mouth or they fall like bones from her gums, but Loam is a clever kit-- her mother told her so!-- and she has never been content with quiet. She thumps her hindleg against the ground like a rabbit giving a warning and snorts through her nose like she's trying to force a sneeze, and then there, there are her words!

"EXCUSE ME!" Loam grimace-twitch-shakes through her words, just as she always does, "My b-buh-bones are falling out oh-of my head! I-ee-uh, uh, think someone sh-should do something about eh-eh-it!"​

---

tags ∘ shadowclan kit ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 4 moons​

 

[fallenmoon]

Honestly, Fall is just passing through camp to get out in to the marsh again, shes eager to get to work, make herself proud, bring home food for the clan- theres a peep, or more so a loud peep from a kit, and it makes her jump with a small 'eep'! Fall recovers quickly, she always does, wide green eyes searching for the kit as she listens carefully to what they had to say.

"Oh! Oh dear- what bones? Your fangs?" she brings an unsheathed claw up and grins, pointing towards her own pearly whites with her paw. "Like, these ones?" I mean, Fall sure hopes that she means her teeth! How many bones do cats have, anyways? Do they have any other bones that could fall out? Fall doesn't exactly think so, but she's not a healer, so she doesn't know. "You'll be okay, kiddo! Smile big, lemme see! I'll check for you." she reassures Loamkit with a nod and a smile, flicking her tail back and forth.
​

"speech"​

 

[POSSUMPAW]

a lilac body would soon appear at the rightside of fallenmoon who came a few seconds earlier to the call of loam who had noisly squeaked out about her bones falling out. this would be a first in shadowclan to have a cat just start shedding bones all willy nilly but the warrior was quick to say that it didn't look like anything dire and was just a fallen fang, kind of disappointing if you ask them.

possumpaw would flick his gaze from the muddy tooth to the smoke kitten, head lolling to the left just a tad as one would if they were curious. "are you . . .gonna keep it?"​

[ penned by cobi ]​

 

[FLICKERFIRE]

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮​

Little Loamkit cries out that her bones are falling out of her head. Flickerfire pauses, mid-mouthful of lizard, and peers at the black feline who is staring dismally at something tiny in the mud between her paws. Poor thing has a stutter, but Flickerfire hears her loud and clear -- her bone fell out of her head and someone should do something about it!

The tortoiseshell wrinkles a brow in curiosity. She's never seen anyone's bones fall out before. She pushes herself to night-dark paws, scraps forgotten, to join Fallenmoon and Possumpaw. There's something white there, in the mud, and Fallenmoon seems to think it's a tooth.

"I don't think teeth're supposed to fall out," she states, flicking her tail tip. "Would say we should ask our medicine cat, but we don't have one anymore." She shrugs. "Sorry, Loamkit. Guess all your teeth are just gonna fall out now. You can still gum on meat, I guess."

- ,,​

​

 

[loampelt]

---

Poor Fallenmoon thinks it's a fang that fell from Loam's mouth. Loam shakes her head and stamps her uncurled paw near the bone: look closer!

It's too small to be a tooth, and the bottom is a soft sort of pink that Loam knows teeth don't have. Unless, maybe it is a tooth? Heeding her own unspoken advice, Loam looks closer and finds that her opinion is shifting. A tooth fell out? Her tooth fell out? Teeth fall out? Loam knows this. Teeth fall out. Loam tests a spot in her mouth with her tongue and, finding it vacant, opens up for Fallenmoon to see.

She hadn't known that she knows this, but Loam had known this.

“Teh-tee--” What was the word that Fallenmoon had used? Loam liked it.

“Fangs,” Loam says, “Fangs fuh-fall out. My muh-ma' says I only n-nn-need t-teh-to lose one m-mm-- uh, another!”

The question on whether or not Loam is going to keep the tooth gives her pause. Why would Loam keep it? The mud seems to have done a pretty good job of eating most of it. If she presses a paw to it, the tooth will be gone completely. Rather than doing that, Loam picks the tooth up in her mouth-- it's only a little bit muddy-- and, at a loss for what to do with it, swallows. Somehow, this feels like the right thing to do. The look Loam offers to Possumkit isn't apologetic, but it is a near enough approximation.

But then Flickerfire arrives with bad news, terrible news, that Loam absorbs with the appropriate amount of horror. She doesn't want to gum at meat, she wants to tear it apart! She wants to eat!

But this has happened before, Loam thinks. She doesn't remember.

Maybe it isn't a normal thing, but maybe it's a Loam thing? Like her paw or the way she talks? The horror fades like fog beneath the sun. Fangs don't fall out, but Loam's fangs fall out.

“My fangs cuh-come back,” Loam corrects, “I-eee-uh could luh-lose my fangs forever uh-and always have them!”​

---

tags ∘ shadowclan kit ∘ solid black with hazel eyes ∘ curled front foot ∘ 4 moons​

 

[CHILLEDSTAR.]

the felidae watched with a small bit of horror. did she just pick up her lost tooth and... swallow it? a disgusted scoff leaves their tongue as they watch loam, shaking their head.

"your fangs likely will grow back... but you uh... didn't need to swallow them."

with a slight shiver, chilledgaze just sighed. kits were disgusting. swallowing a tooth by accident was one thing. but for it to have dropped and the young one to just pick it up, muddy and all, and swallow it? gross. filthy. i will never have kits as long as i live.
​

[ NOBODY ELSE MATTERS, GIRL ]​