PAFP Camp BUSY WOMAN [ ♡ ] begging

[lavenderkit]

Lavenderkit sits joyfully in a puddle of her family - though her expression wouldn't suggest as much. Whilst a near spitting image of Hazecloud's beautiful countenance, she very much has Lichentuft's pinched brow and clipped demeanor. The child, completely and entirely content in the moment, looks completely and entirely the opposite. And when Lichentuft, after what could have been hours of laying about in the nursery, stands to leave and attend duties of their own... the downturned gaze of the young molly only becomes sharper.

"Do you have to leave now?" her voice is like claws on flat riverstone, standing to her paws in the same manner the other had. It is quick, the way Lavenderkit drives her teeth down and into the awkward bend of her mother's tail. "You still haven't shown me how to fish! What if I get hungry, and there's nothing big enough to fill my belly? Hmm?" If still clung to Lichentuft's tail, the little moggy rips and tugs back, her frustration evident.

[ pls wait for @lichentuft !! ]

 

[lichentuft]

lichen

Try as she might to enjoy the simpler things- the concept of family and rearing kittens and diving headlong into a lovingly kindled romance- Lichentuft just is not cut out for the domestic life. She practically itches with the need to act, to work, to busy herself other than with the occupation of new-born demands and after several ticks of the sun's rays spent in camp, the agitation finally surmounts enough to demand her departure. She rises, much like sunflowers do to chase the sun, only to be quite immediately besieged by her mate's spitting image. She might dismiss the sharp line of questioning more easily were it not for the sharp, needle-like grasp of teeth firmly rooted in the crook of her tail-

Her teeth grit in an effort not to outright hiss, turning a ruffled head to peer at her tiny daughter with a glower befitting someone who'd just been bitten. "Your teeth... Lavenderkit... are as sharp as your mother's tongue." Still, the chiding does little to stop the assault as she pulls at them like a stubbornly rooted fern rather than a very real piece of a living cat- she cries (if you can call such a razing inquiry as crying) about being helpless to feed herself and she is reminded near instantly of Cicada when he was this small- a shark more than a kitten.

"The fish in that river are larger than you," the lynx point argues, lifting a faux brow with both frustration and amusement in equal measure. "You'd surely fill their bellies before they ever managed to fill yours... Be patient. I will be back with plenty to satisfy your greedy belly." She reaches to poke a paw at the young girl's kitten-round flank before sighing, "Can you let go of my tail?"