camp would you sell me for a cabbage // inquiry

[rivuletpaw]

[ pls wait for @robinheart :) ]

Rivuletkit finds that she must divide her time near-perfectly should she want to be able to play freely and spend time with her mother. Moonbeam doesn't like nosy kittens in her den (predictably, as some warriors would say,) so the child often waits outside of it for Robinheart to come out. She usually delegates her waiting time to be for playing, and often stops as soon as the tortoiseshell makes herself available. Today is no different, truly, and yet the predominantly white furred she-kit waits patiently before the medicine den, her tail twitching back and forth.

Robinheart emerges from the willow leaves and her eldest pops up to her paws, mimicking the other's odd gait for only a moment out of habit. "Mama!" She cheers, brushing her body up against the other's foreleg. Regardless of the greeting the queen gives her, she turns her verdant green eyes on her mother and spouts, "Who's Brookstorm?" with too-much ease. She's heard the name enough and knows that her and Robinheart were close but... the details become fuzzy every time she tries to wonder beyond that.​

 

[robinheart]

It has become the highlight of her days now that she is able to access camp for chunks of time - the joy that alights her face each time she breaches the medicine den and is greeted by one (or all) of her children. Robinheart knows these greetings are only temporary and one day soon she will get to return to the nursery. To wake up with her kits curled beside and around her is going to be a reality before she knows it! It’ll be different this time around - they won’t need her for sustenance rather for comfort only.

Robinheart limps from the medicine den and purrs loudly at Rivuletkit’s greeting. She cranes her neck and casts her tongue affectionately across her child’s non notched ear. “Hello my darling,” she greets in honeyed tone, citrine eyes briefly studying the child’s short lived mimicry of her gait but thinking little of it. Kids would be kids after all. Besides there was something else seemingly on her eldest’s mind.

‘Who’s Brookstorm?’

Oh.

For a moment the tortoiseshell queen’s ears lay against her skull and her chest squeezes with a myriad of emotions. Sadness for the loss she would have to explain, joy for sharing stories about the kits’ mother, fear that she may not do Brookstorm justice in explaining who she was to Robinheart and RiverClan. “Here, come lay down with me in this patch of sun and I will tell you about her,” Robinheart finally murmurs through a bittersweet smile as her plush tail sweeps across Rivuletkit’s back and guides her to a place to settle away from the medicine den entrance.

“Brookstorm was my mate. She was also your mother… or, well, other mother. Like how Eveningpaw, Twinklepaw, and Horizonpaw have Lichenstar and Hazecloud. You and your siblings had me and Brookstorm,” the tortie explains to her child once they were settled in, making sure there was enough surrounding space for Lettie’s siblings or anyone else to join if they wanted. “She got sick right after you were born. She fought hard, a-and Moonbeam treated her as best as she could, but sometimes illnesses are stronger than the herbs and treatments we have. Brookstorm is in StarClan now, watching over us all,” Robinheart continues as a cloud of grief encircles her. She thinks back to the night she had gazed upon silverpelt and spoke into the night air as if speaking to Brookstorm. It helps to keep her memory alive; to keep her presence known despite her being so very far away. “She was one of the strongest and most loyal warriors I ever met. Lichenstar’s apprentice actually! Our leader taught your mother so much… they were a good team.” She lets her words trickle down from there, giving her kit time to absorb everything and ask any questions that may come to mind.
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[ penned by kerms ]​

 

[ALGAEPAW]

Brookstorm. The name fell foreign upon Algaekit's tongue, like an idiopathic saying that sprung from nothing, or rather something that had come and gone long before her time. Faraway from her current state of being, she did often wonder where this figure in her life now stood, for she did not see her among the fern's fronds or the reed's stalks. It still graced the tufts of her ears, though more weighted than simple conversations often were. Perceptive yet naive as he was, he could tell that Brookstorm was someone important to his mother. Trailing just after his sister Rivuletkit, the freckled kitten stared upwards at his mother's bittersweet-tinged countenance, though there lie little uncouth nature to bury the truth from her children. Other mother... Tilting her head in owlish manner, Robinheart regaled them of the exploits of her mate. "Brookstorm... Isn't here? 'm sorry, Mama. Wish I could talk to her." Stilled waters of a cadence sounded from downy maw, as though his worries were a foundling unfathered in the burdens of grief, for he knew that his mother was still alongside him. Why was his mother so sad then, if Brookstorm was in Starclan? Golden eyes glanced about for any sign of the dead, any lilt of a stray leaf or sway in the wind, a shadowy of mimicry of what once was.​

 

[claythorn]

Claythorn could remember the last time that she had truly spoken to Brookstorm- and seeing Robinheart's grief now made her feel selfish. Guilty, that she could have ever asked Brookstorm to take from the the queen in front of her. Claythorn's ears perked as Rivuletkit asked the big question, and her eyes shifted towards Robinheart moments later. She knew what was coming next, seeing her shoulders sag and ears droop.

Her breath turns short as her vision is adverted, but ears stay angled, listening closely. Listening to the sadness in the tone of the queen, and her kits giving sympathy, a kind of grief now passed onto them. Once again, it was like a resounding gut-punch, how she could have ever asked Brookstorm to take time away from Robinheart. For Otterbite, of all cats, under those circumstances? She exhaled slowly as she rested nearby. Never interacting, just listening.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ┌── WHO ENCRYPTED YOUR DARK ⋅❁⋅ GOSPEL IN BODY LANGUAGE? ──┐‎

• "speech"
  

• 

• CLAYTHORN she/her, warrior of riverclan, fifteen moons.
  ⭃ LH chocolate torbie with mismatched golden eyes, scars across her right cheek and over her left ear. cold exterior and threatening glares, built for stamina/battle and not swimming (tall/muscled)
  ⭃ mentored by darkbranch (npc) / / mentoring no one
  ⭃ mated to otterbite / / only child
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ⭃ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.
  

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