We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Jul 6, 2013 20:57:34 GMT -5
Had anyone bothered to cast a stray glance toward the few shadows around the medicine cat's den, an onlooker would have spied two kits, a ginger-brown tabby and a silver tabby, slinking toward the opening nearly shoulder to shoulder. If the attempt at stealth itself was not a give away, the way the young silver tom kept glancing over his shoulder would have made it clear that they most certainly were not supposed to be there and he knew it. But it was mid-day, with the sun high in the sky, and the camp almost appeared deserted. The occasional warrior or apprentice marched by, but it seemed as though most of the grown cats were taking advantage of the lingering traces of green-leaf and out hunting. Perhaps emulating their older role models, the kits, in turn, had decided to take advantage of the empty camp.
At the head of the group, Gustkit was far from reluctant to participate in their investigation of medicine cat's den. True, the elder of the pair of inhabitants was less than welcoming, what with his cold demeanor and generally creepy behavior, but he refused to let that stop him. What kind of warrior would he be if he cowered away from everyone who showed as much emotion as a stone? A bad one. Besides, it was partially because of Rookfrost's generally creepy behavior that he was there in the first place. He could claim to be concerned about Snowpaw - which was partially true - but mostly he wanted to see what was on the inside of the black cat's den; if there was something that made him all creepy, then they could get rid of it and hopefully prevent their older brother from contracting the same... issue.
Though he would never admit it to anyone, the silver tabby also wanted - needed - to prove to himself that he was not intimidated by Rookfrost. He wasn't scared of the black tom. He couldn't be.
Yellow-green eyes peered around the corner of the den, and when he did not spy a familiar white pelt or a black one, he let out the breath he hadn't even known he was holding. Turning back to his siblings, he gestured the more reluctant ones forward. "We're good," Gustkit whispered, even as he began to inch his way into the den. "He's not here." Nose crinkled against the powerful scent of herbs, the tom entered the shadowy den completely, wondering how Snowpaw could stand to spend so much time in a place that smelled so bad.
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Post by Fawn on Aug 7, 2013 21:29:27 GMT -5
Since he had first opened his eyes, the world had already established itself as a place riddled with rules; seeming more numerous than the stocky brown kitten could count, his opinions of this system of regulations and prohibitions was not at all in the negative. Rather than feel any overwhelming desire to break the rules so carefully laid down by generations long past, Mudkit didn't feel an intense urge to follow them down to the letter, either.
In limbo as far as rules went, Mudkit was more content to observe the comings and goings of his Clanmates, to watch the lives of the cats that lived on the moorlands unfold in front of and near the nursery, as though playing witness to a never-ending play he hadn't been given a part for yet. Despite his reluctance to take a stance on rules, Mudkit did display a certain kind of dislike whenever his siblings went out of their way to break them, or proposed something that directly contracted the words of their parents or their leader or the deputy (he was still having a bit of trouble differentiating between the two highest-ranked cats in the Clan. Not necessarily because of their appearances, but because of their duties).
Having arrived at one such occasion, Mudkit had followed Gustkit and his other siblings, paws dragging slightly, his pelt prickling with unease as they approached the colossal mouth of the Medicine Cat's den. Though Mudkit wasn't particularly imaginative, it reminded him of a giant mouth - and despite it's lack of teeth, was still rather menacing, the scariest part being the dark exterior and foreign herb smells and cool soil wafting out.
"I don't think this is a good idea," mewed Mudkit, small chocolate-brown ears folding back, his posture suggesting he'd rather sit and do nothing as opposed to proceeding forward or retreating back. It was doubtful Gustkit could hear him - or would even care if he did; being the runt of the litter did not wield much power, and it often made him the outcast. What with his conflicting personality and almost zero desire to take any risks, Mudkit wasn't the most popular of siblings - not by a long shot.
That was reserved for those outgoing, confident kits like Gustkit and Blazekit.
Speaking of Blazekit, Mudkit mentally counted down the heartbeats it would take until the eldest of the litter would run pellmell into Rookfrost's den, likely causing more of a mess than the four other kits combined could've accomplished. Intending to at least do damage control, Mudkit hesitated at the mouth of the den, fur along his spine growing rigid, claws unsheathing to scratch at the ground in a bout of anxiousness.
What would happen if they got caught?
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Post by Fate Admin on Aug 14, 2013 11:59:58 GMT -5
Impatient, as always, Blazekit wiggled moodily from slightly behind his silver tabby brother. Why they were sneaking around he wasn’t really sure, but he supposed it was just a silly part of the game he would oblige his siblings with for now. What did he care if Rookfrost was in the den or not? If he wanted to go in and have a look then he would! He was about to push past Gustkit and do just that when his brother alerted them all to the fact that Rookfrost was indeed not home at the moment. Padding forward, it didn’t seem as if their older brother Snowpaw was either. Good. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with any annoying yelling or scolding. They could just go in and do whatever they wanted!
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
His ears twitched as Mudkit spoke and he turned to look at his youngest brother, “You never think anything fun is a good idea. Do you even know how to have fun?” He padded over to the solid brown tom and gave him a hard shove into the den, “Don’t worry, Mudkit, we’ll teach you how to fun yet!” With that he wasted no more time and bounded in past both his brothers, wrinkling his nose as he was assailed by all sorts of scents all muddled together into one noxious fume. “EW! It smells worse than dung in here!” He may have been exaggerating a little. He shook his head, trying to rid his nostrils of so much scent, or to discern one thing from another, “How do Rookfrost and Snowpaw even sleep with this stink?”
He stomped toward the source of the scents, neat piles of leaves and berries and roots and other such things. Surveying them briefly, he tried to figure out which one smelled the worst. Deciding on a particular pile of leaves, he pounced on them and began shredding them with tiny claws, “TAKE THAT YOU PIECE OF MOUSE-DUNG!” He was rather intent on destroying the source of these horrible smells and no longer cared much about what either of his brothers was doing.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 14, 2013 22:46:45 GMT -5
In his usual silent stupor, the silver ghost trotted just behind Gustkit and Blazekit, staring at the shadows dancing across the ground and listening to his siblings' boisterous chatter. Though the kit, being the silent and contemplative type, would not suggest that the noise of their voices was enough to get them caught, he was thinking it. Pigeonkit didn't want to think about what their punishment would be if the four of them were caught. Having heard from multiple reliable sources that Rookfrost was not a cat to be crossed, Pigeonkit could only manage they'd be hung by their toes if caught. The tom was surprised that his siblings were being so reckless, especially since he was sure that he had not been the only one to hear of the medicine cat's shadow. At least when we're caught I can insist I was forced into the whole thing. the tom reminded himself, though felt little consolation. The silver tabby had been poked and prodded by his siblings to come along to Rookfrost's mysterious den, and called every synonym for cowardly and lazy in the book. The LightningClanner simply hadn't been able to disagree with their logic and complaint with him.
Rising his wide and unexpressive face, Pigeonkit pulled himself from the murky depths of his mind to find Mudkit and Blazekit in their usual squabble. While personally Pigeonkit didn't think sneaking into Rookfrost's den was a fabulous idea, he felt a little ambivalent about the whole situation since Blazekit was right that Mudkit needed to lighten up a little bit. No matter who was wrong or right, Pigeonkit just wished the fighting would stop before feelings were hurt. He really didn't like to see his siblings at odds, no matter how often they were.
“TAKE THAT YOU PIECE OF MOUSE-DUNG!”
Pigeonkit's massive teal gaze lit up as he followed Blazekit's gaze to his victim -- some of Rookfrost's herbs. While the kit was glad Blazekit was distracted for a moment, he did fear for the tracks they were leaving all around the den. Broken herb leaves, kitten pawsteps -- all were giveaways that someone had entered Rookfrost's den without permission. It just so happens that we're the only litter in the nursery, the kitten thought with a grimace before taking several shaky steps to approach his bold sibling.
Suddenly, WHAM.
Pigeonkit went from upright and determined, to on the ground and scrambling to regain balance after his slip up on the herb leaves. "My bad," he mewed after standing and blinking his eyes several times to regain connections with the rest of the world. "I didn't see there those. I mean ... those there. They ..." Pigeonkit meowed in a ramble, before trailing up and darting cautiously to gaze at Blazekit. His brother had, after all, scattered the leaves all over the place. It was only logical that Blazekit had been at fault for his fall.
Pigeonkit knew -- and yet would not raise a single complaint. P I G E O N
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Aug 15, 2013 21:23:57 GMT -5
Gustkit- - - Yellow-green eyes watched for a moment, simply taking in the sight of his brother destroying a nearby pile of herbs, before their owner let out a loud protesting yowl. There was no way he was going to be shown up by his brother. Just as he was about to join Blazekit’s side, competition burning fiercely in his gut, a thud off to the side caught his attention, reminding him for the first time since his brother had begun shredding the leaves that both Mudkit and Pigeonkit had accompanied them on their daring quest into the shadows of the medicine cat den. There, on the ground and scrambling in a very undignified manner, was the latter, muttering something about not seeing the leaves beneath his paws. ”You’re so clumsy, Pigeonkit,” He meowed, his refusal to lose the one-sided competition temporarily subsiding in the face of his brother’s misstep.
As the other tom made his way toward Blazekit, however, Gustkit’s attention was recaptured by the challenge. Without a thought toward the consequences of being discovered so obviously ruining the impeccable neatness of the medicine cat den, the silver tabby bounded forward toward a pile of herbs near Blazekit’s. Bunching his muscles and lowering himself into a hunting crouch, he pounced on the unsuspecting pile, unsheathed claws immediately beginning to tear into his prey. ”I bet I can kill more of these than you can, Blazekit!” He yowled a challenge over his shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes watered in response to the stench growing stronger with the ripped leaves.
It was impossible to deny the satisfaction he felt at feeling something tear beneath his claws. He felt like a hunter, oblivious to the relatively uncoordinated way his tiny limbs and claws scattered shredded herbs all around his area. A glance up at Blazekit had him working twice as fast, moving on to a second pile and continuing to shred those leaves until something caught his eye. Round and smooth, it was obviously a berry and looked far more appealing than any of the plants he had seen so far, and that quality alone prompted him to abandon his shredding in favor of getting a closer look. Curious, he reared up, placing his paws on the wall as he tried to get a closer look at the berry, nestled among companions of a similar ominous, red coloration, perched delicately atop a shelf frustratingly out of his reach. ”Look what I found! I bet I can knock them off!” Challenge announced to his peers, he had no choice but to follow through, and he leapt up toward the berries, claws scrabbling at the wall for a purchase for only a moment before he fell back down. Unwavering in his determination, he jumped again, this time aiming a paw at the pile, hoping to knock them to the ground.- - -
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Post by Fawn on Aug 16, 2013 11:32:25 GMT -5
What had been a look of utter frustration at Blazekit's comment from earlier, was quick to turn into an expression of utter horror - so complete was Mudkit's distress that he was actually rendered speechless, his siblings trashing the Medicine Cat's den with a devil may care attitude that would literally invoke the wrath of the devil if they kept it up. "What are you guys doing?!" His voice cracked, feeling nauseous - oh the irony in that did not go amiss. He was starting to feel sick in here, and it wasn't due to the stinky herbs Blazekit and Gustkit were trying their absolute hardest to wipe out of existence - Pigeonkit helping in his own clumsy sort of way, Mudkit throwing him a look of betrayal - leafy detritus raining down from the ceiling as his brothers seemed Dark Forest bent on dooming them all to either horrendous punishment (which Blazekit would somehow get himself out of) or an equally unpleasant death.
What if Redstar made them glue the leaves back together with tree sap, and it took them so long they missed their chance to be apprentices?
Oh he'd never forgive these mossheads if that happened!
It was beyond Mudkit's comprehension, the gene or personality trait that most of his siblings had gotten but not him; this habit to cause trouble, their methods of having fun seeming so unusual and so tiresome to him. Why couldn't they be content with a nice game of hide-and-seek? Why couldn't they be happy just to behave themselves and listen to the elders tell stories? They weren't so bad...
"Blazekit stop! We're going to get into trouble!" He hissed to the instigator, chocolate brown fur prickling all over as though he'd just gotten a static shock. At Gustkit's challenge, however, the small stocky tom's wide head swiveled to gaze upon the one who most closely matched their father, not recognizing the berries as something deadly but recognizing Gustkit as a harbinger for some serious destruction. Every time Gustkit's claws sank into the earthen walls and flung loose more dirt and debris, Mudkit's heart stopped.
In a last ditch effort to stop his brother from causing a cave in or something, the small tom gathered his strength and lunged, claws hidden to barrel straight into Gustkit, hoping Pigeonkit would stop his mumbling and find it in himself to stop Blazekit too.
Someone had to be sensible in all this chaos!
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Post by Fate Admin on Aug 23, 2013 16:45:13 GMT -5
Blazekit had almost forgotten his brothers were there in the den with him until Gustkit called his challenge. ”I bet I can kill more of these than you can, Blazekit!” The brown tabby tom paused in his destruction only long enough to turn his gaze briefly to his silver counterpart, “In your dreams, Gustkit!” He redoubled his efforts and pounced upon another nearby pile of herbs, tearing into them with renewed vigor. “TAKE THAT! AND THAT!” He rolled to the side as if an enemy leapt at him, bits of leaf stuck to his claws as he sent others flying with his hasty roll. Leaping up, he jumped back onto the pile of leaves with a squeal of glee.
He paused once more as Mudkit started being his usual boring self. He threw a burning glare at his youngest brother, “I dunno why mom and dad named you Mudkit. Mud is more fun!” And whilst continuing to glare at his brother, he tore more leaves between his claws as if making them into a nice fluffy nest and then hopped on top of them for emphasis. With a satisfied smirk, he turned again to Gustkit as his brother started leaping for some bright, delicious looking berries hidden away out of reach.
Blazekit was NOT about to let Gustkit get to them first! He was about to charge for his brother when Mudkit tackled him instead. HAH! Perfect! Maybe Mudkit wasn’t so bad after all! He would be sure to share those tasty berries with his youngest brother after he knocked them down. He padded over and crouched, wiggling his haunches as he gazed up at the prize. All it would take was ONE good leap… just ONE! He bunched untoned kitten muscles as tight as he could and released, like a spring, hopping straight up, paw brushing a few of the berries closest to the edge, unbalancing and sending others rolling off their little shelf and bouncing down the wall of the den and onto the floor.
“YES!” he shrieked as he landed again, awkwardly, his paw giving an unpleasant twinge. “Ow!” He lifted the offending paw to look at it angrily and licked it a few times. Placing it down again, he found it was still uncomfortable, but not unbearable, and half limped to the closest berry to sniff it. It looked delicious!
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We are born with a DNA blueprint into a world of scenario and circumstance we don't control |
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Co-Captain
INVENTORY
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Post by Phoenix on Aug 23, 2013 23:15:23 GMT -5
Gustkit- - - He had just gathered himself and leapt in another attempt when a brown furball whammed solidly into his side, knocking him away from his target and knocking the breath out of him. Wheezing and irritated that the way he gasped like a fish out of water was not in the least bit intimidating to a tom who fully deserved to be intimidated by the anger rearing up within him, Gustkit climbed to his paws and after sending a dirty look at his brother, he briefly shook out his fur. The landing, at least, had been relatively soft due to a conveniently placed pile of herbs, and even as his body remembered how to breathe, unsheathed claws tore at the leaves beneath him in frustration. ”Mudkit!” He half shouted, half whined. ”What’d you do that for?!”
Having opted for shredding the herbs under his paws in favor of doing the same to his brother, who despite being incredibly frustrating and unbelievably boring was still his brother, Gustkit reigned in his irritation and turned to face the bigger issue at hand than Mudkit’s stupidity: Blazekit had knocked down the berries already. A loud exclamation, courtesy of the victor of that particular, unspoken competition, had alerted him to the fact. After letting out an exasperated huff, which somehow managed to sound complaining even without words, the kitten sent one last look at his brother and bounded away, returning to his previous position in a matter of leaps.
He barely stopped in time to refrain from crashing into Blazekit’s side as he approached the same berry, and only his desire to regain some form of dignity after that embarrassing display kept him from just rushing forward into his brother’s side for the sake of it. If he thought about it, it was what his brother deserved for beating him anyway. With the spirit of competition still burning fiercely within him, he noticed his brother bending down to sniff it, and barely a moment after, his paw darted forward, swiping the small, red sphere out from underneath his brother’s nose and toward himself. Rolling it farther away, he challenged, ”Ha! It’s mine now!”
Carefully, he picked up the berry in his mouth, miraculously not breaking the skin with his sharp teeth. With the delicacy with which a mother held her kitten, he held it as he moved away, tail flicking in the air as he dared his brother to try and steal it from him.- - -
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Post by Fawn on Aug 24, 2013 19:48:47 GMT -5
Great StarClan, what had possessed the two of them to eat anything inside this place? It smelled funny and nothing in here was familiar; unable to understand that risk-taking personalities of the two of them, Mudkit instead looked to the obliterated piles of herbs, now nothing but shreddings so tattered you couldn't even line a nest with it. His claws unsheathed in frustration, furrowing into the earth as though he needed a better grip on reality, trying to deal with the two most obnoxious members of his family. "Don't eat those! What if they make you sick? What if they're for some cat in particular and you're eating the last of them?" The idea of being the cause of someone getting horrendously sick, if not deathly ill was more than the little law-abiding brown tom could take, and he prepared to pounce upon Gustkit a second time, confident he could fully wind him again - when suddenly, the entire den went dark.
Mudkit glanced around, startled. "W-What's going on?"
~*~
So accustomed to the sound of kit voices and the patter of little paws that he did not immediately grasp what was wrong. Walking past the nursery without so much as a cursory glance, having just polished off a rabbit he'd caught for himself outside of camp – he wasn't beyond hunting for the Clan on occasion, but he wasn't above feeding himself first either so that he may continue to tend to every sniffle and complaint of a sore paw unhindered by hunger – Rookfrost cut a solitary, imposing figure. Striding past the mouths of dens for warriors and apprentices alike, the latest medical anomaly taking up the majority of his mental capabilities, but the sudden accusing whine managed to break one of the heavy layers of concentration he'd been building up since this morning.
Dark tufted ears swiveled forward, catching more tell-tale signs of kittenspeak – normally paying no mind to the sniveling little mealworms – a low malevolent hiss sliding past jet black jaws as the sound was immediately identified as coming from his own den. If Snowpaw had invited his obnoxious younger half-siblings into the den for a tour, he would flay the fluffy white tom and give his mother back his fur as a present.
What he anticipated, was nothing compared to what he saw.
Sheer cold shock poured over the icy tom's already muted emotions, numbing him to everything and causing his pupils to narrow into diamonds, as cold and as black as his soul – before in flooded the anger. Filling up the doorway, black fur prickling from the thick ebony ruff around his throat and shoulders all the way to the bushy sweep of his tail, Rookfrost snarled – a sound so unusual from the normally completely composed Medicine Cat. No words were uttered, the healer unable to conjure up anything from the depths of his vast vocabulary that could describe his momentary ire – snatching up each kitten one by one and tossing them out of his den, not caring if his teeth came down a little firmer on their scruff then was necessary.
These kits! Oh they weren't just any kits, they were Snowpaw's younger kin, and another one of Dovesong's brood. Dark brooding face the picture of stone, his features seemed to harden further, his voice a low, menacing rumble; he spoke to all present, sparing them nothing of his temper, threats hardly idle. ”If you ever set paw inside my den again, I will stuff you so full of maggots they'll come wriggling out of every orifice you have. Run back to your mother!”
As if he needed reminding why now was a perfectly acceptable time to be threatening four cowering kits, Rookfrost's frigid stare settled upon the dismantled stocks of herbs that had been deliberately sorted, leaves both fresh and dated having been shredded beyond repair and likely use, the items he had stored higher up on the shelves had been knocked free and scattered in all directions. Even as he looked, that empty pit for a heart finally cooling into a blackened, simmering fury – the kind that no longer registered in his body language, not like moments before – a small bright red berry rolled to a stop at his paws.
Recognizing it instantly, Rookfrost considered for one unashamedly wicked moment, that if he had been just a few steps late, there would be no kittens to yell at, only bodies to bury and a sense of satisfaction that the little woodworms had gotten what they wholly deserved. After so many moons of service, the jet black warrior had come to realize that not every cat in the Clan would know that this was a sacred space, that this was his space and he shared it only out of necessity. Unexpected visitors were frowned upon.
Destructive juvenile delinquents were to be punished without mercy.
He turned and set a poisonous gaze upon the nursery, wishing nothing but the darkest of curses upon any and all inside. Oh StarClan forbid either of them ever need medical assistance in the nearby future, because Rookfrost would mysteriously be out of whatever was likely crucial to their survival.
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