TW: Sensitive Content CHERISHED INNOCENCE [ surprise ]

[serpentberry serpentberry]

[ this is following this thread! there is a plan to find the body <3 @Faithkit @Thornkit @FALSEKIT ]

Serpentberry, at one point or another, takes the scruff of the littlest kit daintily between her teeth. Perhaps it is because she struggles to walk without wheezing, or her siblings insist she find help sooner. By the time they reach camp, the discernment between the two scenarios matter very little, as Serpentberry has wholly and entirely (and greedily) devoured their connection to her. These kits are now hers, found or stolen. Her daughters and sons, just like the trio before them. Star blessed by her care, even.

She nudges the two kits through ThunderClan's entrance assuring them for the upteenth time that she will provide care for their sickly sister. Although she wants the pomp and circumstance, she knows these tots will not give her the time of day for it if she does not gift them what they begged for. No - demanded. Her tail curls around them as she guides them to the medicine den, likely running into @rowanpaw on the way.

"Their mother was dead," she lies, still unknowing to the gift her daughter was blessed with. "I couldn't leave them out there, y'know?" as selfless as it sounds, her lips curl into a smile that is entirely but. There's no misery or guilt rending itself in her gaze. Serpentberry simply looks on to Rowanpaw with her usual violently green stare, before placing the youngest kitten into her old nest. "Help me with this one, Sapling. She's got a nasty cough..."

It would not be too long later when Serpentberry re-emerges from the den. The three kits are either curled together in the same nest, or segmented, one or two glued to her paws as she returns to the sun's light. Without a doubt, Serpentberry expects the curious gazes and furrowed brows of many to turn to her. The tortoiseshell molly announces, with no ounce of shame or sadness, "I will be raising these kits as my own." The details of their parentage can be spread through rumor, for all she cares. The kits themselves can speak whatever truth they want.

"They are named by my tongue - Faithkit," for the one dying, the one who can only survive by her paw, "Falsekit," the one with needle sharp teeth and a blood stained body, yet no scars to mar their frame, "and... Thornkit," not for the tom who's name is stolen, nor the kit who must wear it forevermore. But for her, for retribution, for all she has lost and nothing of what she gains. She allows a flare of challenge in her eyes, as if begging someone to dare combat her on any of her decisions.

 

[rowanpaw]

☆ Rowanpaw has just exited the medicine cat den, a leaf held delicately between her teeth carrying herbs for a warrior nursing an injured paw pad. It's dropped immediately when she sees her mother coming into the camp with one, two, three, kits? She stands there frozen, heart beating like the wings of a trapped bird as her mother approaches, the kits stumbling after her like lost ducklings. The thorny vine wraps itself around her heart as if in preparation.

Their mother was dead.

Pain, but for a moment. Rowanpaw clenches her teeth, declining to answer and instead busying herself with the kits. One is coughing, one is bloodied but unhurt, one is… huh? Thornkit? She looks at her mother's back, eyes wide. That's what she's worried about– names, the right to raise? What about the kits, what they wanted? They'd only just lost their mother– or had they…? Perhaps the mother was still alive out there, somehow, maybe Rowanpaw could still… but no. Serpentberry has killed before, Rowanpaw knows it, even if it is hard to believe when Cicadabuzz still walks within Shadowclan's borders. So their mother wasn't dead, but now she was? She shakes her head, gritting her teeth. She'd have to go look. She'd have to fetch the body.

Distrust does not come naturally to Rowanpaw. In fact it feels terrible, like an oncoming fever, like an illness. Serpentberry is her mother. Her mentor. She is almost afraid to speak, that if she opens her mouth the sickness would leave her, blood and guts spilled on the dirt between them. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, breathing in through her nose, holding it before breathing out unsteadily.

She doesn't want to lie, but she can't tell the truth. What does she say? The body… would have to be buried. She remembers something her mother– her biological mother– had told Maplefrost. To bury her siblings so that foxes didn't come looking for an easy meal. This is the truth; Rowanpaw does not want more death. She does not want foxes in Thunderclan territory.

She slips out of the den, and as evenly as she can, says to her mother, "I'll take a couple of warriors with me and follow your trail back to their– to the body. The smell will attract foxes and rats, so it'd be better to bury it. You should stay here, mother– the kits need you."

She dips her head respectfully but slips out of the way before Serpentberry has a chance to tell her no.

☆ ROWANPAW. 14 moons
mentored by serpentberry,
adopted daughter of serpentberry and thornstar
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc -

 

[Thornkit]

Leaving his mother behind had been hard, but Stinger had been nothing if not determined to make sure that Nettle got the care that this strange Clan cat, as mother had called her, had said she could provide for his sister. Needle had been easily persuaded to go with the Clan cat, a fact that had anger buzzing in Stinger's stomach - and when Nettle herself had agreed with Needle, the two of them taking to the stranger so easily, that irritation had bubbled over and Stinger had been quite vocal about his reticence as they all went with the Clan cat. The anger was something he could easily voice - the guilt-laden, cowed feeling that accompanied it was something he pushed down.

The fur on Stinger's back prickled as the Clan cat led them into a protected clearing, the scent of many other cats apparent and overwhelming. Stinger could see peering eyes and strange forms around this camp, and he bared his small teeth and pressed closer to the one who had brought them here, if only for the fact that she was carrying Nettle and he wanted to be able to protect his sister should it come to that. The Clan cat that had found them had promised her care, but could the same be applied to the rest of her Clan? The first possible challenger approached, fiery coat tinged with a burnt hue, and Stinger narrowed his eyes at her. Still, she made no move to protest the ragtag group's presence, though that did little to ease Stinger's wariness.

The first emotion that Stinger allowed outside of anger showed when the Clan cat's words sunk in. Their mother was dead, she said, and Stinger whipped his head up to stare at her in naked shock. That couldn't be right. Mother had been hurt, yes, but she'd spoken to them, allowed them to go with to this Clan and be helped, and Needle had said that they would be able to visit her again. Death itself was a foreign concept, but not something that Stinger didn't know about. Prey died, and then they ate it; would something eat mother in the same way? She had seemed to trust the Clan cats, so perhaps they wouldn't do such a thing, but would something like what had attacked them in the first place come back to eat mother?

"That's not true!" Stinger protested harshly as he was ushered into a den, one that had the same barrage of scents that the wider camp had, but here it was tinged with bitterness and other flavors that made him scrunch up his nose. He practically magnetized to Nettle's side as soon as she was placed down in a nest, and he glared up at the Clan cat that had brought them to this place. It wasn't long before the stranger left them, and though Stinger took to fussing over his sister, he kept his ears perked, listening to the voices outside of the den. The stranger had announced that she would raise them, and went on to babble on about names that sounded the same.

He grumbled under his breath to himself, fidgeting as he sat sentinel next to Nettle. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. Once you're better, we'll go back to mother, and everything will go back to normal." Stinger huffed, and looked up, seeking out his other sibling for confirmation. "Isn't that right?"

THORNKIT—he/him + 02 moons
ThunderClan kit
NPC ♡ NPC | adopted by Serpentberry
Brother to Falsekit, Faithkit
Mate to N/A | Father to N/A
Mentored by N/A | Mentoring N/A

penned by Archivist

 

[Magnoliapeak]

I SIP A TOAST TO NORMALCY

Magnoliapeak does not see Serpentberry arrive in camp with the kits, but news travels fast. She's barely made it out of the warrior's den to see what the chatter is about when Serpentberry is re-emerging from her den. Magnoliapeak feels her nose crinkle when Serpentberry proclaims motherhood over the triad of kits she has just toted into camp. Several of her clanmates are sure to think of the medicine cat as charitable for this act, lauding praises of the calico's shallow mockery of selflessness. They always did. The warrior cannot help but to scoff when Serpentberry names them for all of ThunderClan to hear, and worse, names one of them Thornkit. Surely she isn't the only one who thinks of this show-and-tell of adoption to be awfully pompous.

For a moment, she cannot help but to wonder if what Serpentberry says is true. Parentage means very little to Magnoliapeak; if she cared about kin she would be a hypocrite, but there is still concern orbiting the kits' origin swirling in her mind. The warrior isn't the sort to gossip, but there is sure to be murmurs about where these kits come from. Her mind goes to her aunt. Is this some feat of revenge from the medicine cat for Juniperstar bringing home an equally ambiguously found kit? Had she lied and run off with some ShadowClan cat, bringing home their children to raise as ThunderClan? She did seem awfully close with some of them. Magnoliapeak grapples with the possibilities, unwilling to swallow what she has been told without question.

Like a falcon and viper.

Rowanpaw finds her easily in the crowd, whether by intention or coincidence she cannot say. Magnoliapeak tries to read the medicine cat apprentice's expression, but the quickness in her voice and her steps leave the warrior trailing quickly behind alongside Seafoambelly. There is no room for argument between any of them. She chews her cheek as anxiety floods her throat. Rowanpaw remains mild, but her haste betrays her. Magnoliapeak is left to follow in her wake. The dilute tortoiseshell only spares a glance over her shoulder, distantly hearing one of the kits protest from within the medicine cat den before they disappear into the forest together without another word.

/ OUT!! written using my amazing roleplay knowledge that magnolia is one of the warriors rowanpaw asks to help get the body

— ⋆˙⟡

✿ magnoliapeak is a thunderclan warrior with sharp resolve and strict standards.
✿ 30 moons old, ages on the 11th of each month.
✿ currently mentoring flickerpaw and sandpiperpaw
✿ in battle, physically difficult and psychologically difficult
✿ her parents are hazelheart x bracken. she is littermate to honeysucklecry and hyacinthrain. she is gen 2 on the junipersable tree.
✿ penned by carat, see her tags here.

 

[Flurrypaw]

It seemed as though more and more was happening as of late, the drama of the gathering, the splitting of children and bringing one back to the camp - though Flurrypaw agreed with the reason for the split he did think it silly to not take more than one, giving SkyClan of all clans one of the kits after the stunts they pulled was not something he agreed with but he wasn't the leader - and now this, kits scampering quickly after Serpentberry as she carried one in her jaws. She moves quickly to her own den, speaks quietly to her own child and apprentice before turning to the rest of the clan, turns to the eyes that were focused then on her - questioning her - and the names are spoken.

Flurrypaw would be lying if he said he was affected by the names. He knew of Thornstar yes - who in ThunderClan didn't - but he didn't know of any relationship that Serpentberry would have had with the other whether it be positive or negative, it was simply a name to honor the clan in the eyes of the apprentice, and more mouths to feed in the coming months. He could only hope that when the time came for them to become apprentices they could pull their own weight, but for now as Rowanpaw and Magnoliapeak left to go find and dispose of the newly deceased birth mother of the kits, Flurrypaw would find him also leaving and quickly heading out in a slightly different direction in the hopes of finding prey to catch for them.

​

FLURRYPAW he/him, thunderclan 7 moons old.
a buff long-furred cat
mentored by none // mentoring none
NPC x NPC / sibling to none / crushing on none
excelled learner
"speech" // "thoughts"
penned by tikki ↛ rabbitcake on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[loonstar loonstar]

juniper

"and this time, she won't be forgiving"​​

the wind stirs with a mingling of scents that stink of illness. she knows that smell, as sure as it is the scent of her milk-breathed son for his first many moons of life. Asterpaw is more fit now than he had been, even if his nose remains wetted by disagreement with the air around him; the familiarity makes her skin prickle with unease. it isn't until the silver-flame figure of her medicine cat departs from the herb-lined den that she can discern it's location; and why shouldn't it be coming from there? where care is meant to be sought out, rather than avoided in the ways she had run from it. concern furrows the space between her brows, drawing hesitantly near as Serpentberry announces new kittens, her kittens, decidedly.

it isn't a decision she's been invited to. part of her hates that her chest aches to be cut so cleanly from this story, knowing so little about its origin, or the reason for such hastiness as to claim them. even their names feel like the brambles of a rose bush pressed unkindly against tender flesh, just enough to watch the beads form in crimson clarity, but not so deep as to leave a scar. Faithkit? Falsekit? they stand in juxtaposition to each other, a scheme in title she can't understand... but the last one. the last one she understands perfectly, without need for explanation.

is this vindictiveness, for her choice in naming Hollykit? she doesn't dare to ask, swallowing it down like a fatty piece of prey that struggles to be chewed into a more manageable bite. she can't feel her tongue, even as she draws nearer to Serpentberry with a flick of her tail against the other she-cat's heels in greeting. to deny them a chance at securing their own proper family... Juniperstar was unwilling to question it. if this was how they got a second chance, if this is how StarClan placed it before them... the spotted tabby would just relish every moment of it.

──✩°｡⋆⸜ ✮

•  
• juniperstar
  leader of thunderclan
  seven lives remain
  

 

[Faithkit]

​

There is a dull ache bouncing from one wall of your skull to the other, you'd hope that it is keeping clear of your brain but you're pretty convinced that was turned to mush long after the coughing had started to get worse. With a cough simultaneously too wet and too dry you groan and raise your paws to shield your eyes from that persistent sunlight that seems hellbent on crawling inside your eyelids. The presence of the stranger, the medicine cat's, teeth against your scruff has been a good anchoring point though you desperately wish that it was one of your brothers pelts. Maybe your mothers if she hadn't reeked of disease, you could seek her out. Though she is, and so you're left clinging onto that anchor point of a strangers teeth. She's speaking to another cat, though you aren't really paying much attention to it and instead focusing on the familiar, on the faces of Needle and Stinger. Currently Stinger is the one who calls your attention the most, spewing out protests as he's ushered to the den. "Loud" You grumble to anyone who would listen, though your voice is barely an octave above a whisper. He will hear you though, they both will. Weren't their ears practically fine tuned to your quiet rasps and ragged breathing?

You're ready to sing the medicine cat's praises when she finally settles you onto solid ground. Though it seems to spin for a moment and your knees buckle, steadying yourself against bedding material and whatever body you can cling onto first. Parasitic to the core you're left once again relying on another, if you cared about your self image enough you would consider this to be pathetic. Your mother is dead though, surely you can afford yourself a little bit of pathetic. She's dead it's what you want to say, in a fit of passion that you couldn't even think to muster up. Instead you sigh, butting your head underneath his chin. "Okay" there's a pause before you add "promise?" You would like normal a lot. It sounds rather wonderful to go back to those not too warm moons and be able to run around with clumsy kitten steps alongside your brothers again.

You don't register the new name long until the time for objections had passed. You had lost a connection to Nettle long ago, that was for a healthier kitten without a dead mother. Faithkit was weird, foreign on your tongue as you mutter it to yourself methodically. It wasn't bad though, it made you feel a little less bad for not connecting to a name when it's something new like this.

​

A BOUQUET OF BRAMBLES

SHE/HERx THUNDERCLAN KITx 02 MOONS​

☆ A sickly fawn cream tortoiseshell with low white
☆ Adopted child of Serpentberry, littermates with Falsekit and Thornkit
☆ penned by Juice↛ Ouijeejuice on discord

 

[FALSEKIT]

Needle felt the strange calico push them into some strange clearing, far brighter and far more alive than anything else in their narrow scope of the world. She continually assumed that Nettle would be cared for, so why did they still distrust her? Uneasiness settled into the young child's body, strings taut and tender as the winds of change disturbed them. Her long tail curled around Needle's bristled form, leading them farther and farther from their mother, as though a shepherd leading lambs to the slaughter. Stinger shouted and Nettle whispered, and yet their protests did little to abate the adult molly's course. She only smiled with that sickening slyness of hers, the kind that made Needle want to rip it from her, just like how the predator tore into the swan-feather flesh of their mother's form. "My name is Needle. Not Falsekit." They retorted to the unfamiliar names that the other so callously granted them, as if the moniker were polished in poison and rot, a repulsive taste that did not deserve to belong upon a lashing tongue. How dare she give them another name, when the one that they once had served them well enough. How dare she wrest them a little farther from their family, as if she aimed to sever their ties and mold them into her own children. I won't forget her. I won't let you make me.

Stinger asked them if they would return to their mother eventually, if momentary normalcy would come to them once more. Needle glanced away for a split second, his gaze swimming along the trodden earth of the den. They weren't sure, if they were honest. Did 'normal' exist for them anymore? As naive as they were, even they knew that their mother would not glance upon them with the same kind eyes... Never lick at their fur, never press her nose upon their heads. It hollowed them, carved some dearth within their beating heart. And yet, they know that such a terrible revelation would destroy them even more than it had to them. So, like Serpentberry, Needle knew that they must lie. "Yes. This is... Um... It won't be forever." Greyish-blue eyes narrowed suspiciously at the two she-cats, a bittersweet perfume cloaking their well-groomed coats, almost the same as the stark scent of their mother's blood. The ruddy-coated molly spoke of gathering their kind to gawk at their mother's body, to bury it before the rest of the ravenous scavengeres had their way. Ears folded to the sides of their head, and their face twisted into a childish consternation, and they could not stand how the two treated their mother so casually. As if she were some remnant of fresh-kill to discard, far away so that the beasts would not roam to them. The fawn tortoiseshell child pressed their body against the warmth of their two siblings, as if orienting themselves to shield their own hunger-bitten silhouettes, as if only predators surrounded them instead of their wretched feline-kind. It would take time for Needle to grow used to their new name, and even longer for them to grow used to Thunderclan as a whole. Relenting felt like defeat, like the shame of dipping one's crown to an unworthy opponent.

SUNSHINE IS FAR, CLOUDS LINGER ON

☾

EVERYTHING I POSSESSED, NOW THEY ARE GONE

• OOC. (to the tune of there is no war in ba sing se) There Are No Late Replies In Purrgatory
• 
  NOTE: This is a very loose reference until I can draw a more accurate reference. <3​
• 

  FALSEKIT & 02 MOONS

  ​

  —— Agender / Any Pronouns & Gendered Terms
  —— Kitten of Thunderclan / Adopted by Serpentberry / Biological sibling to Faithkit & Thornkit
  —— A shorthaired fawn tortoiseshell with medium-high white and greyish-blue eyes. Walks with a confident, almost unassuming posture. Talks with a calm and collected voice, and one much too mature for their age.
  —— Outwardly, Falsekit is an affable and polite cat with natural charisma. Within the controlled walls of their own making, they are a skeptical and nihilistic soul, often going about in life in accordance to their own morbid curiosity.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.