Ok...it felt kind of nice to NOT write 2020 LMAO. Welcome to 2021! To kick off the brand new year, we're introducing a round of updates, including new bio and forbidden romance rules, our Secret Santa reveal, OTM winners and nominations, our monthly patrols, and a fun new infectious disease! So make sure to check out the January Announcements for all of the new content! As we leave 2020 behind us, we hope everyone is able to put themselves first this year and practice self-care! Here's to another one! Let's write some cats!
The Apostles is a warrior cats roleplay based in northern Wisconsin. On Lake Superior, the wild cats have made the Apostle Islands their home. It is on these islands - Rocky Island and South Twin Island - that the clan and tribe cats have lived in a peace and harmony that ebbs and flows with the tide.
But as the tides turn, so does the truce that binds them to one another; and as the water raises, a darkness follows, an evil that will end in bloodshed and violence.
The air was stifling. At three moons old, the kits were growing like weeds and being cooped up in the nursery or even the camp all day with them was starting to make Curlycloud feel quite crowded. So today, she had decided she would take her brood on a little walk out in the forest. She could stretch her legs and they could expand their world beyond the camp walls. Maybe it would also help burn off some of the kits’ energy. The silver queen found that she was having a hard time keeping up. Her brown eyes fell on Acornkit, her smallest daughter and she gave her head a slight shake. The little kit looked like she had been dragged through a bramble thicket backwards with her fur sticking out in all directions. ”Acornkit, come here,” she instructed gently. She was well aware of how much the feisty kit hated to be groomed, but it was something that needed to be done.
Curlycloud waited until Acornkit was within striking distance before her paw flashed out and wrapped around the young tabby. Quickly drawing her close, the queen was sure to keep a firm grip with her paws to hold the kit in place as she quickly groomed the worst of the mats from her daughter’s fur. As she worked, she was deaf to her protests. Knowing that she would never get the kit truly groomed, she let her go once she was satisfied with an affectionate nuzzle to the tabby’s cheek.
The curly eared queen rose from her nest and flicked her tail towards the litter. ”My loves, I have a special surprise for you today,” she mewed with a hint of a purr. ”Now I want you all to promise to behave yourselves for me because I am going to take you four on a walk.” She paused for effect. ”Outside of the camp.”
She licked each kit on the forehead as she passed them, leading the way out of the nursery and into the camp. As her litter burst from the nursery behind her, a thought flickered through her mind. Four kits was a lot to handle on her own, maybe she needed to take a warrior escort with her. She wondered if it was even a good idea to try and leave without a warrior escort. But midday, many of the warriors were sleeping for dawn and dusk patrols or out on midday patrols, so the pickings were slim. Her cheeks flushed slightly when she realized that, more than Dawnlight, she would have liked to ask Gullheart to go with her. But, alas, the tabby was nowhere to be seen.
The warrior she did spot immediately, however, was Sycamoreclaw. She tilted her head slightly as she considered the calico. She would certainly be handy protection and there was never a bad time to walk about with your Clanmates. But what if she dosen’t want to spend time with me, the worried voice fretted in her mind. Her ears swiveled back as she self-consciously stood in place. Maybe she should try to find someone she knew liked her company, but that really only left Dawnlight and, like Gullheart, she didn’t seem to be around.
Swallowing hard and gesturing for her kits to follow, she padded towards the warrior. ”Hi, Sycamoreclaw,” she began, clearing her throat awkwardly. ”I was going to take the kits out for a walk in the forest, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming along and helping me keep an eye on them?”
"Huh?!" roared Sycamoreclaw gruffly, long fangs glinting as she turned around to face the approaching queen. The intimidating calico eyed the silver tabby as she licked the remains of crow from her maw. Her nose flared as the perfume of milk and lavender filled her nostrils and she couldn't help but soften. She shifted, averting her gaze awkwardly away from warm browns of Curlycloud. That was when she noticed her brood. Four kits exploded from the nursery, meeting their new world with hellish excitement. While Sycamoreclaw usually turned away from kits--or rather, any cat who didn't pull their weight in the clan--she couldn't help be compelled by the youth's joy. Such emotions hadn't been allowed when she was their age. Patchfang had been militant with her litter. Not allowing stupid games but instead encouraging feuds or training. When they were taken out of camp as kits, they were testing their endurance in some way. Is that what she's doing? Curlycloud's awkward words and reluctant demeanor definitely didn't match their firm and unwavering mother. The interaction just left Sycamoreclaw confused. Though the calico didn't show this, her tail still waived irritably behind her and her gaze still burned. She was in the middle of a meal after all.
"Sure thing." Replied the molly eventually, claws flexing as she thought. Curlycloud was in need of a bodyguard. If Sycamoreclaw was lucky, some fox or badger or, she grinned, a clan cat would threaten them. Only then would her excitement truly match the kittens. There was no way she was turning this opportunity down. She had to go. Raven~
he days had grown boring with the nursery walls. Even Aspenkit was finding himself un-amused and itching for something to do. The weather had turned warm and the prospect of new things was unbearable. Plus, getting out of the nursery would give Aspenkit the chance to get away from his sisters. Oh he loved them, no mistake about that. But being surrounded by their jovial, energetic personalities every day was driving him insane. No matter how much he asserted himself the rarely listened to his advice. Pity on them, Aspenkit thought as he cleaned his long fur I give great advice.
Today, however, was going to prove an interesting day. Aspenkit blocked out the sound of a grumbling Acornkit as Curlycloud once again cleaned his sisters unruly fur. He had tried to dictate to Acornkit the importance of keeping oneself groomed, but Acornkit had no time for her brothers advice. As the she-cat slipped from her mothers grasp Aspenkit raised a brow at her. See, the look said, benefit #1 - no mother grooming.
Whatever quarrel could have erupted between the kits, however, was stopped before it even began. My loves, Aspenkit focused in on his mother, listening intently to what she said. A walk - a glorious walk! Aspenkit bounded to his feet in excitement, only to have that excitement double as Curlycloud tacked on what was once a forbidden thought.
A walk outside of camp.
Aspenkit breathed deeply, hurried alongside his mother, and stepped out of the nursery with her. The camp was alive with activity, but that did little to entrance the kit who had grown use to the sights that the camp possessed. "Are you really taking us out of camp?" Aspenkit inquired as he kept pace with his mother. Five of his small steps equaled one of hers. In answer to his question, however, Curlycloud approached a formidable warrior.
The kit coward behind his mother at the sight of Sycamoreclaw. The warrior was large, and the scar on the right side of her face entranced Aspenkit in fright. Who was this and why was Curlycloud asking her to come on their family outing? Sycamoreclaw's voice was loud and imposing. Aspenkit shrunk back even further behind Curlycloud. He felt his siblings around him, and knowing that his sisters would likely not be afraid of the scar riddled warrior, Aspenkit took a step away from Curlycloud to stand on his own. I can do this.
∙ cinderface ∙ mistflower ∙ fog that hangs in air ∙ loudstorm ∙ sun that shines above ∙ aspenpaw ∙ aster ∙ eaglefang ∙ leafdapple ∙ orchid that blooms by night ∙ sparrowheart ∙
"Ma-maa," the small seal point squealed, a furrowed brow piered with intensity from the nest, its corners threaded to a point. A point that scrunched the tiny bridge of the kit's nose. Their nest's corners still radiated heat from its previous occupants- all who since had moved- collected in the plush feathers and moss that tangoed in its lining. Large, blue eyes peeked from the shadows as she rose from her nest tentatively. With anxiously kneading paws, only the bewildered gaze of Larchkit accompanied the curls of her ears, searching frantically for the familiar, silvery pelt of Curlycloud. The others had left the immediate nest, her siblings, whose bouncing bodies fluttered the kit's chest with worry. "Guys!, Stop! Ma-maa,"
she squeaked again, asserting her stumpy body to wobble beneath where Curlycloud groomed the squirming Acornkit. Nestled once again in the safety beside her mothers pelt, Larchkit watched with wonder as Acornkit was subjected to Curlycloud's grooming. she relished in the soft rhythms of her mother's breaths, and the warmth that accompanied her side. That was, until the relentless resistance of acornkit forced Curlycloud into a laborious effort, whose body swayed with the task- or perhaps, it was simply that acornkit's pelt was that mangled as to require the thrashing momentum of her mothers raking. with a start, Larchkit sat up, her face transmuting into a sour expression. she never takes care of herself, Larchkit pouted, casting a self-righteous glance. Haphazardly, Larchkit attempted to brush her own tongue across her the back of her pelt. Its pink debut only met air, no luck. With an awkward hobble the she-cat soon fell to her paws, defeated, and roll once again into Curlycloud's warmth.
"My loves", she began, seizing Larchkits attention- who had once again sought the warm embrace of slumber. " I have a special surprise for you today. Now I want you all to promise to behave yourselves for me because I am going to take you four on a walk." Of course I will but I'm not sure about the others
"Outside of the camp".
"What?", Larchkit scowled with a frightful pipe. "That's dangerous, why can't we just stay here." the little lynx continued, casting a pining glance towards the nest. A forlorn sigh escaped at the sad realization, it was now likely cold. The scowl did not leave as Larchkit felt Curlycloud's tongue lap at the apex of her head, her curled ears flattened and head low. And then, they departed. With reluctance, the kit bumbled after the others, dragging a plumy tail.
"Brrrr, it's cold," Larchkit mumbled to Aspenkit as they left the nursery's encompassing mouth. "I don't understand why anyone would even want to go outside." Around her, the overwhelming plethora of scents coalesced into an indecipherable musk, her mind cluttered with its atrocious malodorous yellings. And the noises- so much noise, the outside clattering of conversations met with the ominous cawing of crows and distant twittering of birds. The she-cat's ears slunk lower as her back concaved into defeated slink, weary, and exhausted from the start. Larchkit was barely aware of their direction, until the sudden roar of a clanmate. With a scream, the she-cat hid behind Curlycloud's silky pelt beside Aspenkit, burring her face into the feathery furs. "A monster!", the tiny kit cried. "I want to go back", she mumbled between sobs, her fur fanned into a sporadic plume of hectic rise. The she-cat didn't care to turn their way, to even peer from the shelter of Curlycloud's pelt, as she heard their muddled choices continue; Mothers voice was melodic and sweet and the stranger- gruff and rugged. Larchkit swallowed tentaviely as she attempted to meet the gaze of aspenkit, her lips pursed into an apprehensive pout.
[attr="class","sinnert"]The rising temperatures of new-leaf—the very first that Acornkit had experienced—resulted in a lot of melted snow, and melted snow meant… puddles. Lots and lots of puddles. As the winds lost their bit and the sun gifted the clans with more warmth, Acornkit found herself slowly abandoning the winter games she had grown to love in favor of these new new-leaf games. Particularly the ones that mussed up her fur, much to her own mother's chagrin.
Not that she minded. New-leaf was full of new smells and new sensations to experience; she saw no reason to deprive herself for the sake of her mother's tongue of all things. Besides, it's not like I can't clean myself!
And so, she had spent the previous day. Puddles were splashed in the second they crossed her path; green buds were snapped greedily from their hosting stems only to be promptly spat out, and by the time the sun had sunk into the trees, her pelt had become a testament to the previous day's novelties.
That day, as far as she was concerned, could not have gone more spectacularly… the morning that followed it, however…
"Hey! Let go!" Letting out a defiant squeal, Acornkit wriggled impetuously in her mother's clutches, squirming as she was dragged bodily into the warm confines of Curlycloud's chest to be fussed at by a tongue as wet as it was coarse. She could feel the tug of it as it worked at her pelt, loosening the tangles she'd worked so painstakingly to develop. Gone were the leaves, the mud, the sticks; strands of debris were plucked away with equal resolve, until there was nothing to show for days hard work but a ruffled pelt and equally disgruntled and irritated kit—but a presentable one, nonetheless.
Once freed, the tabby she-cat sat down dejectedly, twisting around to preen and tug her fur back into its customary spikes and tangles, all while her brother, Aspenkit, watched her with an expression of hardly-contained amusement. For a moment, she contemplated pouncing on him but thought better of it as her mother rose from her nest to step out before them. She'll only complain.. and then she'll be fussing over my fur all over again. Still, there would be plenty of time later to pester her brother later, of that she didn't doubt.
She was just beginning to work at the fur along her spine when Curlycloud's voice cut through the babbling and whining mews. Her mother had a way of speaking softly and yet still managing to silence a room. This was no different; even Acornkit looked up. "My loves, I have a special surprise for you today. Now I want you all to promise to behave yourself for me because I am going to take you four on a walk… outside of the camp."
All at once, the matter of her pelt was forgotten; she could even forgive her mother, then, for having ruined it so. Outside! Her whiskers quivered with scarcely repressed excitement, her jaws parting to let out an excited squeal. "Outside? Do you mean it? How far? Where? Will you take us hunting? Can I catch a squirrel? Please, please, please?!"
However, where her eyes were all alight with anticipation, the same could not be said for the meeker of the brood—specifically of Larchkit, who was doing well to make her apprehensions heard. And oh, how she wailed. Even having spent moons in her company and loving her as only a sister could, Acornkit could not quell her annoyance. "What? That's dangerous. Why can't we just stay here."
That gave her pause. "Honestly, Larchkit, you'd think you liked being pent up in here all day. There's nothing dangerous out there."
If their mother overheard, though, she did not acknowledge them; her only answer was to pad towards the nursery entrance, her slender shoulders hiking up the newly-grown lichen curtains so that they all might be granted exit without fear of being tangled in the drapes. Acornkit moved to follow, but in passing Larchkit, she gave the she-cat's flank a flick of her tail. Her voice softened ever so slightly as she gave her chest a brazen puff. "But don't worry—if anything does, attacks us, I'll chase it off. I've been practicing." A toothy grin followed by a swipe at the air and she was bundling forward again to trot alongside her mother. It didn't occur to her to expand on the fact that her version of practice had been held against lifeless moss balls; it wasn't a badger, but she supposed once you got to kicking and scratching it hardly mattered anyway.
Slowing her stride ever so slightly as she pulled up alongside Aspenkit as he voiced an inquiry of his own. "Are you really taking us out of camp?"
"That's what she said, didn't she?" Acornkit interrupted, giving his shoulder a jaunty bump, then pausing as Curlycloud slackened her pace, stopping before what Acornkit thought to be the largest cat she'd ever laid eyes on. Then the she-cat was moving, turning the great breadth of their skull to admonish them with a gruff bark of acknowledgement that seemed to shake the earth beneath her very paws. Woah. Acornkit could not help but take a step back as she met the she-cat's gaze, admiring the scar that marred the side of her face. In her few moons, she had never seen a cat more impressive than this one... a small part of her even wanted to be like her. And I will be one day.
But where she felt nothing but awe, her siblings presented a different sentiment. Aspenkit had withdrawn behind Curlycloud, seeking comfort in the close proximity of his mother's hide. As had Larchkit, who, burying her face into her mother's silky furs, let out a yelp of, "A monster! I want to go back!"
Curlycloud, on the other hand, said only, "Hi, Sycamoreclaw. I was going to take the kits out for a walk in the forest. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind coming along and helping me keep an eye on them?"
Sycamoreclaw, huh? Cool. Sometimes a name was all it took to make someone less frightening. "That isn't a monster, beetle-brain—it's a warrior. See? Watch this." Giving her sister a gentle prod with her nose, she took a few tentative steps forward to stand at her mother's flank, her nose crinkling ever so slightly as she spoke, with all the blunt and finesse of a club-footed badger, "Hey! How'd you get that scar on your face?”
Post by wolfiedemon on Apr 25, 2020 12:17:19 GMT -6
Elmkit
Trouble-making Kit
Elmkit was having the strangest of dreams during her nap. It involved her running through the woods that she had only see from the camp. She had wanted to explore so badly but couldn't find the chance to slip away. But somehow she managed to in her dream. She looked up at the trees, wondering if she could climb one with how small her legs were. She was beginning to bunch up the muscles in her legs to leap as high as she could when something caught her attention.
She turned her head towards what had distracted her and saw the retreating form of a what looked like a tom. She had only ever saw this tom in her dreams. This time she would catch him. She took off like a mouse running for its life. She wasn't going to lose sight of him. She would catch him and demand to know who he was. But something in the back of her head told her she already knew who he was. Could this cat be her father?
She ran faster and faster, but it wasn't fast enough. He kept getting further away from her. She tried to call out to him, but it was as though she was screaming from under water. The word she called surrounded her, it felt as though it was attacking her. She felt like she was being ripped in two.
~~~~
Elmkit woke with a start, she was back in the nursery with her mother and siblings. She tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, as she did she heard her sister Acronkit complaining from their mothers grooming. A slow smile formed on her face, "Better you then me sister." she thought to herself with a quiet giggle. You would think Acornkit would try to take care of herself more so she could avoid the constant grooming.
Elmkit practically leaped with joy when their mother said they were leaving the camp. "I wanna climb a tree!" she exclaimed. Where did that come from? Was it cause of her dream? She shook herself and followed after her family as they left the den. She was running around in excitement, not paying attention to where she was going or what she was doing and ended up bowling into another cat. She looked up to see that it was one of her clan mates. She looked scary but also cool.
She looked over at her family and saw Larchkit hiding, her brother was too timid at times. She looked up at the she-cat. Yes she looked like she had been through alot but she wasn't that scary. She started to bounce around Sycamoreclaw, "Are you going to show us how to hunt better? Are you gonna show us how to climb trees? Are we gonna see any bad cats?" Question after question spewed from this kits mouth. She just couldn't contain her excitement about being leaving the camp AND being escorted by a real warrior. Not saying her mother wasn't one, she had just been out of practice since they were born.
For the most part, Curlycloud did her best to ignore the kits’ chatter as they made their way across camp. She winced internally at her litter’s reaction to Sycamoreclaw and prayed that the calico knew that the kits hadn’t meant to offend her. As she spoke, she curled her tail around Larchkit and Aspenkit. She thought about reaching forward to pull Elmkit and Acornkit back, but settled instead on simply comforting her nervous offspring. The warrior might enjoy the adoration. ”Kits, don’t be rude,” she instructed.
She nodded thanks to Sycamoreclaw when she agreed to come along and turned towards the camp entrance. The closer she got to the entrance of the camp, the more she felt her chest tighten with anxiety. She was grateful for the help of an extra warrior, but four kits would be a lot to manage on their first trip out of camp. Momentarily, she thought about turning back and herding her children back into the nursery, but she knew they wouldn’t forgive her for that. She wouldn’t be able to keep them at her side forever.
The silver queen looked down at the kits with a sigh. They were so small. So helpless. But before long they would be warriors, full grown with their own lives. She wanted to cherish these moments where they could still be together. ”Here we go,” she muttered quietly before leading the way out of camp. She hesitated once outside and took a deep breath of fresh air. ”Now kits, I want you to stay close to us. Make sure you can see either Sycamoreclaw or myself, understand?” She gave Elmkit a stern look. ”And I don’t want to find any of you up a tree, either.” Elmkit was welcome to clamber over logs or throw herself at yearling trees, but the thought of scaling a full grown tree to retrieve her daughter frightened the queen.
The tip of her tail flicked nervously before taking steps away from camp. ”Kits, do you have any questions?” she asked.
A look of disgust seemed to overcome Sycamoreclaw, her lengthy whiskers twitching as her brows furrowed. Her searing amber gaze burned into the cowering Larchkit and Aspenkit, their kit status meaning nothing to her. All she saw were two pretty little kitties who couldn't even stand before a warrior of RedwoodClan's size. "Monster's all you got? I've been called worse!" She grunted, how disappointing.
The calico molly couldn't help but remember her own litter-mates. She and Pinespider had practically ruled the nursery with their other siblings, the youngest Thistlepaw being just as timid as the cats who cowered before her now. In the end, he had gotten killed. "You need to work on those two!"Of course her yowling was harsh and only scared the kits further. She sighed, long tufted ears sliding back as she turned away."We can't protect them forever."Her claws flexed in the camp soil,and I'm running out of cats to challenge!
She hadn't expected one of the weaklings to come slamming into her. She exposed her yellowed fangs, rearing up to face the pale fluff-ball. She met Elmkit with a wide sheathed paw, sending the kit gently rolling back towards the approaching Acornkit. "A challenge!" Her tail stirred. This one ain't that bad. But her fiery orbs practically glowed at the tiniest's question.
"This scratch?!" In an instant, Sycamoreclaw was taken back to skirmish that occurred seasons ago. "The rogue queen herself did this. Thevingstar!" Even if the gash on her muzzle still stung when she thought about it, she couldn't help but grow excited as she thought about the treacherous fight. The ThistleClan wench had put up a decent fight. No, she had fought mightier than any other cat and the tri-colored cat longed to face the half blind leader in combat again.
"She ripped my face up so I-" She paused snapping at the air with massive exaggerate motion. "Got her right in the leg. She's still limping from it!"
Sycamoreclaw turned her attention to the curly-eared molly, finally standing up as they made their way out of camp. Right. Walk the scraps. She took to the end of the group, ears alert for any sign of danger. If StarClan's real... I can stick my claws in a hawk.
spenkit strove to control his unease around Sycamoreclaw. As Elmkit and Acornkit unabashedly pestered the towering warrior, Aspenkit stared on. His curled ears pinned close to his head. His tail, already long and fluffy, was magnified from the unease he felt around Sycamoreclaw. Be brave, don't give them something to tease you for. As the sole tom of the family, Aspenkit needed to be able to stand his own ground and not be afraid. If Acornkit and Elmkit could face the monstrous she-cat with ease, then so would he.
With a cursory glance Sycamoreclaw dismissed the two frightened kits. Aspenkit bristled, not from fright but from anger. He needed to be tough, respected. It was his duty to protect his mothers and sisters yet here they were showing him up! Even Curlycloud was unafraid of the giant before them. StarClan, she had sought the warrior out after all! So if Curlycloud was not afraid of Sycamoreclaw, then Aspenkit would not be afraid either.
As Curlycloud ushered the band of kits and guard outside of camp, Aspenkit could not prevent the tremble spreading through his legs. Sycamoreclaw boasted of the scar on her face, reveled in the memory of a long ago battle. As the warrior took position in the rear to watch over the family, Aspenkit could not hide all of his fear. He glanced back at the warrior, his blue eyes wide.
Upon stepping out of camp, however, the young tom's attention was pulled elsewhere. Awe plastered across his face as he stared at the towering trees. The redwood's rose straight into the sky. Their massive size making Aspenkit feel even smaller than he was. The scent of peaty forest mulch buffeted the tom's senses as he rotated in a circle, taking in the sounds of twittering birds and scuttling prey. Outside of camp, everything was magnified. Everything was new.
Aspenkit had not realized Curlycloud had moved forward again, his siblings pulling in different directions to explore within the confines of their mother's demands. He felt rhythmic vibration in the ground, and a shadow fell over him. His small head shot up and stared at Sycamoreclaw. He had fallen to the back with the fearsome warrior. He swallowed hard. Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid. Be like your sisters.
Bolstering himself as much as he could, Aspenkit meekly asked. "Have you climbed to the top of the trees before?" If this warrior was this fearsome, then surely she will have had climbed the trees to the sky and back.
∙ cinderface ∙ mistflower ∙ fog that hangs in air ∙ loudstorm ∙ sun that shines above ∙ aspenpaw ∙ aster ∙ eaglefang ∙ leafdapple ∙ orchid that blooms by night ∙ sparrowheart ∙
"a...warrior." the seal point she-kit mewed. This mew was accompanied with a ghostly echo, one so that her exhale long attenuated past her chirp. Not many warriors visited their den, and due to the absence of a father, the young kit had only found herself well-acquainted with other younglings and she-cats. That is, other than the eerie Orchidshade whose black pelt and short-words brought quivers down her spine, or Finchstar's occasional presence to greet Redfox. Yet, Finchstar was far from frightening and typically when the she-cat thought of "warriors", his tall, wiry frame was not the first shadow that loomed in her nightmares.
Larchkit peered at the calico warrior with a narrowed, tentative gaze. Despite her inner inkling that she was indeed a fellow she-cat, the warrior who was called, "Sycamoreclaw", appeared rugged and battle hungry, like any other blood-thirsty tom. I wonder...if she'll ever have a family, the words rung in the back of the little she-cat's mind as she was entangled by the fantasies of denlife. The nursery was so fulfilling to Larchkit, with its warm walls that hugged their nest and the smell of milk and herbs that continuously lay dormant. The caverns mouth was sheltered from the relentlessly winds and inclement weather. She could see every shadow that slipped in and out from its entrance. They were safe.
"Monster's all you got? I've been called worse!" the she-kit's brow furrowed as her lips pursed into rippling pout. "Well, that's not very nice of them." she mewed with a sense of self-righteousness, still peering from behind the silky pelt of her mother. Soon, the pipping squeak of her sibling interjected with a ghastly inquiry.
"Thats rude!", Larchkit squeaked with a moments pause between each of the words, so that they burst from her jowls with stout, rhythmic holler. Acornkit had just asked about Sycamoreclaw's scar. Blinded to the fact she had just called the warrior a monster, Larchkit was moreso fueled by her inner avulsion to hear a war story. She had no interest in how Sycamoreclaw had received her brutal, jarring scar. At the thought, the small she-cat's fur began to fan so that the feathers extended like goosebumps, and her ears plastered (as much as they could), so that the tips of her curls taunted her neck.
Despite her obvious discomfort, Sycamoreclaw continued, and elaborated on the dangerous risks that accompanied a warrior's life. I hope we don't all have to be warriors, her thoughts echoed with a melancholy mist. Together, they traveled.
And as they traveled, Larchkit attempted to tune out the continuous myriad of questions that spewed from Elmkit, whose every inquiry compounded unease and anxiety amidst her belly. With ears still plastered, the she-cat bumbled with stout legs that teetered her weight in a catawampus fashion. Her tail was a tiny, erect prick that remained relentlessly strung against her pocking, notorious kit sway. Nope. Not me. I'm never going to be a warrior. I'm going to be with mama forever.
Finally, Curlycloud dismissed Elmkit's quizzing. There would be no climbing, and this came as a great relief to Larchkit who found even their simple stroll to be an adventurous pursuit. "That's right Mama," she echoed, finding her head held just a paw's length higher as she trailed behind the group. Though, much to her dismay, there was some excitement that could be said about exploring beyond the den's walls. Unlike camp, their walk was dotted with pawfuls of colorful creatures that's sweet smell swayed on the winds. They weren't as strong as herbs, and their twinkling high-notes brought a mollifying kiss to her worries. For a moment, she strayed to extend her rosey nose to greet one of the creature's faces. They had long necks, that allowed them to sway with great flexibility and ease.
Achoo!!-, the small she-kit sneezed, as her face was soon plastered by a light-yellow dusting. She had awakened the sweet-smelling beast, and it had attacked. With her tail tightly curled beneath her legs, she scampered up to her mother and continued to deliver a stinking glare to the perpetrators that lay dormant.
[attr="class","sinnert"]A soft buffet sent Elmkit careening into her, a bluster of mink fur and flailing white paws circumvented by the brunt of Acornkit’s own body, which was quick in wriggling out from under her. “Watch it, feather-brain!” an admonishing squeak left her then, accompanied by the bristle of stricken hackles and an equally afflicted expression, one that only eased as Sycamoreclaw answered her own question, of the cruel upheaval of bare pink flesh that marred her broad features. Such wounds were not won without a story to accompany them, she knew, and Acornkit was no stranger to the gallant tales and looming reputation that proceeded cats maimed as such. It did not take long in understanding that Sycamoreclaw was also no exception to this assumption as the hulking she-cat fell into the husky throes of a story. She had a great, booming mew when she spoke, one that seemed to set the very redwoods to trembling; Acornkit thought it added flavor to the tale—the best storytellers had such voices.
“This scratch?! The rogue queen herself did this. Thievingstar! She ripped my face up, so I—” pausing, Sycamoreclaw clamped her jaws shut on empty air to the resounding click of clashing teeth. “—got her right in the leg. She’s still limping from it!” A fierce light seemed to burn in the she-cat’s eyes then, a sort of deep-rooted anticipation, but it simmered just as quickly as Curlycloud beckoned for them to follow her.
Acornkit rose to her own paws but kept well in pace with the calico, eyes round, admiring. One day I’ll have stories to tell just like hers. Already, her head was brimming with imaginings, of valiant battles, of discoveries made in the hush of night and of the future… the stories they might whisper in her wake, of her legacy. Soon. Soon the entire forest will look to me as they look to Sycamoreclaw. Her resolve etched itself into the soft earth as her claws bore down into the peaty soil, her limbs seeming to pump with an added fervor as she threw her head back and puffed the matted fur of her chest, where a conglomerate of leaf litter and wood chips had found themselves forever intertwined.
Beneath the redwoods, however, her thoughts wandered elsewhere. All about them, vaulting trees clawed their ways into the benign blues of the sky, towards the wispy clouds that would later swell and bloat to upheave great showers of icy rain. Puddles. The promise of such lingered in the air, making her hopeful for the proceeding days. Much and more fun could be had with puddles, and the rain always made the forest come alive with the fragrance of new-leaf. Freshly grown ferns, fertile soil, creepy crawlies that pitter-pattered beneath the leaves and stones. It meant birdsong and green leaves, more prey than they could ever hope for, and warmth unlike the gelid temperatures they’d been forced to endure in leaf-bare. Having been born on the cusp of it, Acornkit was not yearning to experience it a second time, even if the snows had been pleasant to rouse with her paws. Compared to new-leaf, where the warmth seeped into her fur and left her content and drowsy, leaf-bares novelties had quickly overstayed their welcome. She knew she would not miss the way the cold would steal over her and set her body to trembling with certainty. As she walked, she could almost feel the intensity of such tremors. She didn’t miss them.
But the forest promised naught but warmth, and as her sibling jostled to either side of her, their excitement prickling in the stiff hairs along their spines and the great swelling pools of their eyes, she added an extra bounce to her step for it the cold moons were gone at last and soon, very soon, she would be an apprentice born anew. And this place, where the trees sang with the growth of new leaves and tittering birds—this place would become as known to her as the backs of her very paws. In due time, in due time.
“Now kits—” stumbling, Acornkit nearly lost her paws as the group slackened in its pace, yielding to Curlycloud who turned to appraise them each with a look that brimmed with a certain sternness, but also, underneath, a warmth and affection so strong it was like to knock them each off their paws. “—I want you to stay close to us. Make sure you can see either Sycamoreclaw or myself, understand? And I don’t want to find any of you up a tree, either.” Her last words were spoken directly towards Elmkit. Her sister had always been fond of scaling tree trunks, Acornkit knew, just as she knew nothing Curlycloud said would ever stop her from finding a way to clamber up another as soon as her back was turned. But that was the fun of it, she supposed. Her sister could be a burr in everyone’s side, but at least she was more fun to be around that Aspenkit and Larchkit. One’s as serious as a boulder, and the other’s more frightened than a mouse. Sometimes it was a wonder at all they were kin, only Elmkit shared her voraciousness for adventure.
By then, Curlycloud had set the group back into motion, pausing only so long as to ask, “Kits, do you have any questions?”
Questions? Acornkit let her gaze wander, to the undergrowth, the sounds of prey, the melodious cacophony that reverberated in the canopy. But as for questions, no—she had none. Not for her mother, anyway. Her attention was still well entrenched in the warrior that accompanied them, but before she could so much as squeak a question of her own, Aspenkit pushed forward to ask a question of his own. Really? We meet a warrior who bested the leader of ThistleClan in battle, and you ask about trees? It was almost appalling, how little imagination her brother could have, and she listened to him prattle, her pace slackened, falling in line with Elmkit. She gave her sister’s shoulder a gentle press.
“Hey, you wanna do something fun?” she whispered softly, mischief seeping from the virescent light of her eyes. “Shh. No, not so loud.” Motioning so that her sister would stop, she cast a glance ahead where the others pushed forward. Good. They won’t hear us… or at least, most of them wouldn’t. She hadn’t failed to notice her sister Larchkit stopping to shove her face into a truss of flowers, coming out sneezing. Larchkit’s never been very observant anyway… Her sister was about as timid as she was simple, she knew. What Larchkit might say wouldn’t be enough to get either of them in trouble. But then, she still kept her voice reasonably low as she addressed Elmkit. “Let’s ambush Sycamoreclaw!” Her tail flicked, eyes swelling as her paws churned the earth. “She says she fought Thievingstar, but what about the two of us? If we snuck up on her, I bet we could knock her off her paws easy.”
Post by wolfiedemon on Jun 1, 2020 18:27:35 GMT -6
Elmkit
Trouble-making Kit
"But momma." Elmkit started to protest but she knew better then to argue with their mother. She knew personally how much of a pawful her and her siblings could be at times... Especially her with how much she wandered off at times. She couldn't help it, she wanted to see everything she could before she became an apprentice. She wanted to have a head start compared to her siblings.
A wicked idea crossed her mind, she wanted to see just how tough this old warrior was. She sneaked up behind her and ran full force into her. To her surprise, the older warrior called her a challenger and batted her away as though she was nothing more then a bug. She let out a cry of surprise as she collided into her sister Acornkit. "Well maybe you should watch where your standing mouse-dung." She said in response to her insult.
Besides, it wasn't entirely Elmkits fault, she couldn't really control where she was tumbling. She turned her attention back to the warrior as she started to tell of how she received her scars. The story was intriguing and Elmkit started to wonder how hard it would be for her to get a scar of her very own. Maybe one that would make her look really tough like her. She would make it her goal to be as tough as this she-cat. But first she would start with climbing trees.
Elmkit looked over as her brother approached the warrior. She was surprised to see him speak to her. His question however wasn't one she expected. "She's probably climbed hundreds of trees." She said to her brother. "Right Sycamoreclaw? If so, one day I'll climb even more!" She felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of beating her later in her life. It would be another accomplishment for her. She just hoped her short legs would grow enough for her to do this.
Her family and Sycamoreclaw started to leave the camp. She did her best to keep up with them. Of all her siblings she was the shortest even though she was technically the oldest. She hoped as she got older that they would start to grow, allowing her to climb like the older cats, among other things. Thankfully she wasn't the one falling behind, it was her other sister Larchkit. She was a little happy about this, it wasn't that she didn't like her sister. She just felt that her sister agreed with their mother a little too much when it came to things that kepts Elmkit out of trouble.
When they finally reached their destination, Elmkit sat still long enough to hear their mothers instructions before wondering off. Before she could however, Acornkit came up to her with an idea. She was about to say something when she was shushed by her. The idea wasn't a bad one, and they could easily accomplish it. "She didn't know I was behind her until she felt me touch her. I think we can totally take her on." A mischievous glint could be seen in her eyes. "Let's do it." She flicked her tail to signal for her sister to follow.
It pleased Curlycloud to see her shier kits begin to warm up to their warrior escort. Her whiskers twitched slightly at Aspenkit’s question and she answered before the warrior with a slight nod of her head. ”All warriors of RedwoodClan have climbed a tree at least once,” she mewed. It was like a rite of passage for new warriors. They spent their first night as warriors in vigil at the top of the tall redwoods. All her kits had ever known of her was as a nursing queen and, for the first time, she realized that’s all they probably saw her as. They were surrounded by strong warriors that hunted and patrolled for the Clan, but they had never seen Curlycloud herself in action. Her fur and body soft from pregnancy, she likely didn’t cut an imposing figure for her children to look up to. But whether they knew it or not, she would lay down her life if it meant keeping them safe.
Curled ears flicked at the sound of a tiny sneeze followed immediately by the pitter-patter of tiny paws as Larchkit ran back to her side. With a chuckle, Curlycloud used her feathery tail to dust most of the pollen from her daughter’s face, finishing the tidying with a few quick licks. ”The flower got you, my love,” she observed with a purr.
Vaguely, she was aware of Acornkit and Elmkit somewhere off to the side, but she held herself back from collecting them. They were of an age where they could start exploring their independence. Curlycloud had to remind herself that she wouldn’t have brought them into the forest if she had ever felt that they needed to remain glued to her side. Though it was nice to feel like her kits wanted to be around her, she also knew that it would be important for them to explore some. The queen could still see her stray daughters and that was the only instruction she had really given them. They were doing as she had told them to do. Besides, if they worked out all their curiosity and energy in the woods, that meant that they were in for a quiet, sleepy night in the nursery.
Sycamoreclaw trekked on familiar soil, the ground vibrating as her broad paws struck the ground. She had seen the humongous trees thousands of times, stepped over the same ferns, broken the same twigs so she lacked the same awe the kits shared. Instead, her attention was focused on their nearby surroundings, tufted ears perked and listening for any sign of danger. But she heard nothing. No fox barks, nor the yowl of other forest dwellers. Not even the screen of a haughty hawk. Great. She huffed, claws ripping apart dirt.
But of course she had four kits to entertain her, Larchkit approaching with a question of his own. So he can talk. Though his inquiry was a mundane one and only left the calico rolling her eyes. "What type of question is that?" She scoffed. "That's the first thing you do as apprentice. It's instinctual."
Amber orbs looked elsewhere in boredom as her family addressed the question as well. StarClan definitely wasn't real. She was so bored! And here Sycamoreclaw thought she'd get to stick her claws in something other than the same dirt she always shredded.
"Don't you want to explore your surroundings?" Sycamoreclaw added, beginning to use a paw to shove the lynx kit away, but stopped upon seeing the plotting sisters. "Or, I can show you a trick." Her booming voice narrowed into a whisper as she signaled the tom kit near. He was cowardly now, but maybe a few fighting moves could bring him out of his shell, his sisters being the perfect candidates for testing.
ycamoreclaw's dismissive response to his question sent a roaring flush across the tom's face. The first thing you do. Well, she shouldn't be so mean about it, Aspenkit wasn't an apprentice yet! When he was an apprentice he was sure he would be much larger than he was now, probably even as large as Sycamoreclaw! Then the thought of climbing the towering trees wouldn't fill him with frightening awe, instead he'd seize the challenge by the claw and climb to the tip top of the tallest redwood. I'll show her when I'm older!
Apparently Aspenkit had overstayed his welcome next to Sycamoreclaw. The warrior began to shove him away, ushering him toward his conniving sisters. Aspenkit's mouth opened in protest "Hey but-" Suddenly the she-cat's voice quieted into a conspiratorial whisper. Aspenkit's protest fell silent and he glanced at Sycamoreclaw who was bending down to his level. "A-a trick?" This giant warrior wanted to teach him something? Wouldn't that give him something to boast to his sisters about! "Yeah! I wanna learn, what is it?" he whispered back, the excitement building in his chest as he wanted in eager anticipation for Sycamoreclaw's directions. If a warrior is teaching it, it has to be a great trick!
∙ cinderface ∙ mistflower ∙ fog that hangs in air ∙ loudstorm ∙ sun that shines above ∙ aspenpaw ∙ aster ∙ eaglefang ∙ leafdapple ∙ orchid that blooms by night ∙ sparrowheart ∙
