Open Camp CRACKS IN OUR SKY ───〃vitiligo

[Magpiepaw]

& I don't know what's got its TEETH in me

"Papa! I'm dying!" The black and white kitten clambered out of the medicine cat den, he had been slowly winding cobweb around ticks for easier storage and was making a bit of a mess with it, so he'd naturally gone to a puddle to clean only to realize something was wrong. On his face where once pitch black fur lay flawlessly devoid of any coloring, several white flecks had begun to pepper his cheeks and under his eyes, one in a starburst spattering of pale fur almost akin to the pinpricks of stars in the night sky. The kitten was at first fascinated by his reflection, a paw raised to touch the spotting and wipe as if unsure it was even really there-it could have been dust perhaps, the medicine cat den did often get a little musty in corners they didn't often linger in or use for any purpose. The speckling did not leave though and he began to slowly lose his interest in it in favor of concern. What was it? His father had similar markings but they had always been there, they did not simply appear one day. That they showed up after his visit with Littlekit brought to mind that they were perhaps some kind of gift. Gift or curse? His sibling missed him, he wondered vaguely if this was a way to take him to the stars - to match him in away they could go together and fear clenched in his little heart. He loved Littlekit but he wasn't ready to go just yet!
That was what lead the small black and white tom stumbling and tripping over his own paws across the camp to find his father. Sablestar would know what to do, he didn't know where Cicadabuzz had gone or he would seek his mentor out as well - surely bug was just out gathering and would return and be able to heal this if his father didn't know how to help? He had options, but not time it seemed. The spots came over night, what if more came, what if he became a solid white spot!

Ooc- Looking for @SABLESTAR & @cicadabuzz mention! But not a PAFP! Was supposed to do this a month ago, first canonical appearance of his vitiligo!

I dream in phosphorescence - Bleed through spaces

MAGPIEKIT

— kitten of shadowclan
— He/They
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
— Solid black w/low white & blue-violet eyes.
— Has 'wobbly cat' syndrome.
#9272ee

 

[Blightkit]

The medicine den was somewhere that Blightkit had learned long ago to stay far away from, not because they themself had been injured and had to suffer through the long healing process but because of the constant smell of the herbs, the way the injured cats of the clan went in there and were constantly looked bored as they lie there without anything to do if they were unlucky enough to go inside, so on the very few occasion that the black kitten had found themself curious about the stinky plant-filled den they had made sure it was empty of Cicadabuzz, empty of Magpiepaw, lest they get caught in the web of being trapped inside bored out of their mind and forced to lie there like the others.

Today, however, the attention that grabbed Blightkit towards that very den was Magpiepaw himself, the announcement that they were going to die as scrambling paws quickly moved as fast as they could from the den to move across camp, and quickly the young kitten found themself abandoning the game mossball that had been being played for the new attention-grabbing thing in front of them. Carefully they moved closer, quietly as they could - as a kit could really - as they tried to open their maw and drink in the scent of the other, tried their hardest to discern whether it was some sort of illness that would be taking poor Magpiepaw from them so soon but when they discovered the other simply smelled of his usual self - smelly in that earthy herby way mixed with the usual ShadowClan scent - nose wrinkled as Blightkit realized questions would have to be asked of one of the few cats they did not want to bother, the fear of being banished to the medicine den looming there. But they had to get to the bottom of the mystery, they had to find out how he was going to die.

"What do you mean?" Came the familiar chirp of the beginning of the questions, orange eyes wide as the kit looked over to the apprentice, head cocked slightly as tail waved absently behind them. "How d'you know?" Did every cat know when their time was coming? Would Blightkit when it was their time?

​

BLIGHTKIT they/them, shadowclan 4 moons old.
black smoke with orange eyes
mentored by none // mentoring none
littermate to none
NPC x NPC / parent / mated to none
"speech" // "thoughts"
penned by tikki ↛ rabbitcake on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[Mockingkit Mockingkit]

- • Mockingkit • -

---

Mockingkit's gaze landed onto Blightkit and Magpiepaw, one full of panic believing they were going to die while the other asking how did he knew that they were dying. Yellow eyes flicking between the two while his thoughts were that it was possible that Magpiepaw would knew since, he was a medicine cat apprentice, surely they would know? "Maybe Starclan told him..." she expresses coolly, gaze flashing back to the healer in training, noticing the new white specks on his cheeks with a slight hum wondering where they even appeared from.

"Did... Starclan tell you that you were dying?" she piped curiously to the kit-healer, they could get to the bottom of it, surely. Maybe it was a misunderstanding, why would they take Cicadabuzz's apprentice so soon unless they didn't believe Magpiepaw... no, she was sure it could have been a sort of misunderstanding of sorts, that is something that can happen, right? Magpiepaw was still only a kit despite holding the title -paw already.

---

"Speak" ● "Thoughts"​

​

 

[SABLESTAR]

The declaration is not said with anything agonizing that Sablestar would expect from a young kit to say such a thing. Still, Sablestar turned from his current conversation in favor of his son's attention, looking at the apprentice questionably as he came closer. "What are you talking about, what's on your face?" The tuxedo reached his paw forward to brush the dusting of white hairs on Magpiepaw's cheek, blinking slowly as they remained. A small twitch of his lips curved at his maw, gently patting the boys head while he chuckled in amusement.

"You've got your father's poor luck, kid. You're not dying, though." Of course his son's rushed assumptive announcement lured the attention of the other kittens, and he calmly shook his head. "No, no. It runs in our family, my grandmother called it 'freckling'." He explained with a short nod, pausing to look at Mockingkit with a narrowed gaze. "And who told you about that? Do not listen, Mockingkit. We are not ThunderClanners." His pelt crawled at the mere mention of the star-studded abominations, especially coming from the maw of a kit.

"This is nothing to worry about. Freckling happens as you get older, my son. My face was once as pitch as yours, but now it covers my nose and cheeks. You might look more and more like me once you're my age."

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLESTAR— he/him ･sixty moons ･leader; shadowclan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[CICADABUZZ]

CICADABUZZ, 32 moons / shc + med. cat
a SH cinnamon tabby/chocolate tortie chimera w/ black eyes
parent to cloudberrypaw, hemlockpaw, mistletoepaw ; mentor to magpiepaw
a reserved, pragmatic healer driven by duty rather than sentiment

Cicadabuzz returns not from a patrol, nor from a gathering trip, but from silence—the kind that stretches between shadows and stretches long in the late greenleaf heat. Their fur carries a faint scent of cool stone and nettle, dusted with a film of dried soil that clings to their legs like old regrets. They pause just beyond the camp's edge, unseen for the moment, observing the cluster of young cats with their usual hollow stillness, like a cicada husk clinging to bark—present, yet eerily vacant. Their throat aches with the rasp that never quite leaves, scarred and ruined by the wound, and they do not speak right away. They do not need to. Their presence draws attention without asking. Their tail moves first, trailing behind them like a creeping vine, and they step soundlessly into the fold, their gaze resting first on Magpiepaw. The white flecks across his face glint under the sun's scrutiny, and Cicadabuzz's expression does not shift. Not in alarm. Not in amusement.

"You are not dying," they rasp, voice brittle as a beetle's wing, its sound faint and dry, yet final. "Not from this." They lean forward and inspect the pale markings without touching, their breath ghosting over Magpiepaw's nose. "Not illness. Not omen. Just... inheritance," they murmur, and their words are deliberate, sparse, each syllable drawn with effort. "Some things pass from blood, not at the paws of spirits. Your father is correct." Their gaze does not soften, but it settles—like dust, like ash—on the kits gathered round. Blightkit's curiosity, the bright buzz of it, earns a flick of an ear. Mockingkit's mention of StarClan earns only a blink, slow and unreadable. "Spirits waste no time with specks of fur," Cicadabuzz says plainly. "If they wished to take him, they would not send warnings first." Their tone does not comfort. It clarifies. That is all Cicadabuzz offers—the clean edge of truth.

 

[MIREPURR]

Unsurprisingly, Mirepurr is on their feet the moment a panicked yelp reaches their ears, previous task quickly forgotten and wholly unimportant. It is not often that their Clanmates screech about dying, though they suppose it's not all that surprising after how ShadowClan has been faring up to this point. They can only hoe it will not become the new normal.

Blue eyes search Magpiepaw's features; the kit seemed unscathed, his black coat not stained with crimson or anything else that would suggest bodily harm. Perhaps he is worried about sickness, but that's not something they can help with—if there is something within that even he, apprentice of a medicine cat, cannot decipher, then Mirepurr will have even less to offer. Until they know specifics, Mirepurr decides to be helpful by turning their attention to the kits.

"I highly doubt StarClan would say such a thing,"

they murmur, voice gentle and not unkind. They cannot exactly blame the youngsters for jumping to such conclusions, but they don't want gossip to spread too fast before Magpiepaw gets the chance to elaborate.

When Sablestar arrives to the rescue, Mirepurr tries to imagine their leader without his signature markings. Courtesy of being older than them, they do not seem to recall an appearance that is different than his current one. It's almost impossible to believe.

"Poor luck?"

they echo.

"Most cannot boast about their pelt changing color."

Hopefully the wrapped compliment will soothe Magpiepaw's panic.

"The biggest omen of them all,"

Mirepurr says, amused by how Cicadabuzz had tacked inheritance onto far worse cases. They cannot suppress the shiver at Cicadabuzz's cold declaration though; bug always speaks with unfathomable wisdom, and Mirepurr knows that bug is right when it comes to the spirits'... determination to get their way, if it can be called that. Lack of mercy perhaps, an extent of nature's will.