Open Territory elevation don't go to my head / lost kit 'hunting'

[cicadakit]

𓆣 . ° ✦

To the nameless kitten, the territory he finds himself in is equally nameless.

He is acutely aware of the scent of cats underneath the layer of still unmelted snow, but any connotations of "territory", "home", "intruding" have yet to cross his mind. The words are entirely foreign to him. What has crossed his mind was finding warmth. In the few blinks of time he has spent alive, this has always been the main priority. Warmth. Sometimes food, if he found himself lucky, but mostly the comfort and safety that cold could never offer. His fur, a black bolt of contrast against the frosted ground, cannot hold its own against the sharp breeze. Ever more frequent shivers wrack his body, starting from his bones and work their way out.

The path he takes is aimless, but he moves forward nonetheless. Surely at some point along the path he will find a nice place to wait out the tail end of the snow. As he continues, stumbling paw after stumbling paw, his eyes catch sight of something in one of the various piles of powdery snow. Brownish in color, unmoving.

A mouse? Do mice live in snow? Before he has time to contemplate this, kitten instincts take over and he flattens against the ground. He ignores the sharp freeze that hits his belly as best he can. Ears pin back, tail whips back and forth with a reckless abandon, and he watches the incredibly still mouse-creature with an intensity that suggests nothing has ever been as vital as this moment. All former goals postponed until further notice. Whatever warm places exist near by will still exist nearby once this is dealt with.

A small step back. Another. A shake of the tail back and forth once more for good measure. And the bundle of dark, curly fur leapt in a blur towards the pile of snow. His teeth clamp down on the prey, meeting nothing but a bizarre crunch, no fur, no delicious meat. More notably, the force that hid within his small body was more than enough to launch him deep within the pile of snow. Whatever the prey that he rightfully won was, he was not letting go. Small claws held on like barbs as he wiggled left and right, attempting to reverse back into fresh air. Back limbs kicked like a rabbit caught by it's scruff, sending the frost flying in all directions, scattering hidden branches and leaves. If there had been any more of these mystery creatures about, they'd surely have run off by now.

With almost as much effort as the hunt itself, the kitten has finally freed himself. He shakes the dusting of sleet from his face, dropping his prize in the process. Curious eyes gaze down, and see what is without a doubt not a mouse. The evacuated shell of a cicada sits before him. Though to the small kitten, it's a bizarre husk of some sort of reptile rodent.

A small, frozen paw reaches and bats it once, twice, and it tumbles around beneath him. Though clearly inedible- even he can discern that much- it sure does move in an entertaining way. A bizarre husk, but perhaps a good toy to pass time. He leans down to pick back up the prize in between his teeth, and sets back to his original goal. The cold has reached even further within him, if such a thing was possible, and he needs somewhere to sleep and admire his new friend.

/will be found by eelbrook !

✧ ° . ✶ . ° ✧

"speech" // "thoughts"

 

[Eelbrook]

∘˙○˚.• EELBROOK 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

——————————————————— ∘˙○˚.•

Not being shadowed by another warrior and instead being allowed to do whatever they wanted is a welcome freedom to Eelbrook, though they still prefer company. If nothing else, then for safety, in case anything were to go wrong, it's always best to have more sets of paws. Such is the case today as well, with the young Galerunner accompanying the ringed warrior on their stroll in the territory.

They are strange company, but not unwelcome, and at times more preferred than the other warriors of RiverClan - Galerunner is a fascinating cat, who always has some new insight that Eelbrook could never think of. "Thank you for joining me." they smile towards the younger, but taller cat. Eelbrook is about to say something more, when movement in the corner of their eye catches their attention.

Instinctively they turn their head towards the movement - maybe prey? - but it's far away and they can't tell what it is just yet. It's not big enough to be another warrior, nor predator, but something about the movements seems... more predator than prey anyway. They signal to Galerunner to follow them quietly and make their way towards the creature. It doesn't take long for their eyes to narrow and realise what's been so strange about it.

"That's a kitten!" Eelbrook states the obvious and walks towards it. They don't rush, despite wanting to, so as not to scare the young one, and announce their presense with a chirp and a raised tail. "Are you okay, little one? Where's your family?" But when they raise their nose for any scents, it's nothing but the two of them and the young one. With a pang in their heart, they glance towards Gale then back at the kitten, standing behind them so that the worst of the rain doesn't reach them. The child has something in its mouth, holding it protectively, and Eelbrook decides the best course of action is to make the child feel like everything's alright - or as alright as it can be. "What have you got there?" they peek curiously, but don't get too close, unsure of what the child might be feeling and not wanting to make the wrong impression.

In their heart, Eelbrook knows what must be done, they immediatelly feel a sense of protectiveness over the child, wanting to do everything in their power to help it. They just hope Pike will understand and that the child won't be scared.

∘˙○˚.• ——————————————————————————————————————

OOC: @Galerunner

 

[Galerunner Galerunner]

—————————————————— Rocked by an endless motion ✦

The silence that followed snowfall was bitter, dark, and deathly, and Gale had always found some sort of kinship within it. The silence of the land held him like a newborn babe, cradled him with love that it could never express, and burned into the fleshy pads on the bottom of his paws. It was a numbing sort of burn, a kind sense of pain, and Gale could not help but welcome it in. If death could hold him like this, surely it was not something to be feared—but in the end, it would hold him all the same, no matter how violent or verdant it was. So it goes.

Of course, the newly-named Eelbrook hardly had the same thoughts about the bitter cold as he. The words weren't exactly wasted on the other, per se, but the simple fact that there is nothing intelligent to say about death that could not be said better than the frost that lay underfoot. Of course, the tom still tried—it was something to hold, to grip onto and to understand, but this inner contemplation was not one that needed to be shared. It merely nodded at the other as they thanked him, dipping a slender, graceful head in appreciation. These lands were twisted and winding, and the snow held surprises underneath—it could entirely see why the other would request company.

And then it happened—a sudden flurry of movement, and his neck snapped to attention as he focused on it. It was no bird—even the owls had a certain rush to their wings—but it did not have the sneaking sort of determination of a prey animal... but yet, yet it may have been. Perhaps this not-patrol would turn a new leaf, and they would find themselves in the throes of a bounty. Silently, he followed the ringed cat, brushing a strange, sweeping rivulet of snow behind him as he went.... and raised a quiet brow as they exclaimed.

Galerunner unfolded into the view of the kitten as Eelbrook started ahead, sliding into the presence of the other as easily as rapids between rocks. It would let the other do the comforting as he slid forward, standing like some strange tree as he surveyed the land around them. There was a wandering, meandering path driven into the snow by this kitten... and it was entirely alone, unbroken by larger pawsteps. Perhaps he had been abandoned, or perhaps lost, or even orphaned... it really did not matter in the end, the way his body would contort in the frost would be all the same. He, too, would be held by death itself, and the frost would be warmer to him than a mother could ever be.

Well, in any other circumstance. But fate, or perhaps nature herself, had sent him on this trek not as a solitary being, but beside a cat with a bleeding heart. Gale hummed to himself as Eel greeted the little thing, raising an eyebrow at the other. Mentally, the already meager freshkill the cats had managed on shrank even further, and the feeling of hunger shrank tight against his ribs... but of course, Eel would not care about that, would they?

"No family would leave their kit like this. Not in these bitter months..." Gale answered Eel easily, studying the dark curls of the kitten. He certainly didn't recognize the kit as belonging to any of the caretakers of Riverclan. "...But death is kind to the little things. And surely, surely it will be gentle here, too."

—————Whether truth or just a story

It's not up to you—————

• 
  Galerunner
  ✦—Riverclan Pearl Diver | 14 Moons
  ✦—He/They/It
  ✦—"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
  ✦—A fluffy high white lynx point with curled ears and deep blue eyes
  #87878E #BAB2AC

 

[PIKESTAR PIKESTAR]

At Sunrise, the leader had left camp to inspect the river. With the increase of mouths to feed, he finds would like to take a more active approach in helping the clan. If that meant getting up before anyone else and noting which parts of the river have frozen over for the day, then he was more than happy to. Russetfall was still recovering and no matter how much she tried, he wouldn't allow her to resume her duties so quickly. After all, she now had more paws to help manage and shape this clan. Pebbledream, Smokewreath, and Willowburn. They were reliable thus far and provided crucial insight when it came to the future of their clan.

A starving warrior is no better than a dead one. Ever since the council meeting those words have echoed in his mind. Frostmoth was right and he had known it too. If their warriors were to starve then who would defend their clan? Who would gather herbs? How will the caretakers ensure the kits are fed? The clan's main concern was ensuring everyone was fed. At worst he can only allow a few days of hunger and perhaps decide who was allowed to eat and who wasn't for the day, but that would cause an uproar. I have to make some questionable decisions for our future.

An ugly feeling settles in his gut as he glances at the frozen river before him one last time.

Silver paws begin to make their trek back to camp, to report his findings to the council. However, he comes to a halt when a strange scent permeated the air. A loner? He sure hopes not. We don't need any more mouths to feed. He pads towards the scent with urgency, Galerunner and Eelbrook's scent adding to his worry. While he has complete faith in the both of them, he can't afford injured warriors this Leafbare.

"No family would leave their kit like this. Not in these bitter months..."

His paws slow when Galerunner's words register. Another kit?! His frustration begins to bubble. Is this some kind of joke?! He is beyond exhausted of having random kits winding up in their territory. Did StarClan find this funny? Did they really have to bring them so many kits before and during Leafbare? Why couldn't they spare them? Have another clan be troubled with an influx of kits as well? We are still expecting Bambi and Heatherfield's kits!

Still... He wouldn't and couldn't leave a helpless kit to fend for themselves. He can't help but sigh as he finally reaches the trio. His tail brushing against Galerunner in greeting. Although, he does raise a brow at the young warrior's talk of death. "Death could be kind and gentle, but we are here." None of us will sit around and wait to see what happens is left unsaid. He dares not speak it, knowing that he is uncertain about Galerunner leaving a kit to fend for themselves. In his heart he wants to believe the warrior wouldn't do such a thing, but he has a sliver of doubt.

To prevent himself into falling in a spiral of whether Gale would abandon a kit, he steps forward to inspect the kit himself. The kit has curls akin to his own child, but instead of chocolate fur this kit bears black smoke. If you were older I would have to turn you away, but we already have so many mouths to feed. "While I have high doubts the parents are still around, we should try and look for them. If not... We'll take this kit into our care."

 

[cicadakit]

𓆣 . ° ✦

Had the snow not seeped to his bones, frozen his joints and his energy with it, the sudden presence of three adult cats would have made him jump out of his own skin. His travel had been sullen and silent. No voice but his own when he spoke allowed to himself and the air had been heard in quite a while. Though the scents he had managed to gather signaled others had been here at one point in time, he would have much preferred they not be here, now.

Startling yet standing still, his eyes dart between the newcomers. They all look at him differently. One, a look he was unfamiliar with. Gentle, but scared. Worried? The second, looking at him how he looked at the rare scraps he could find to eat, calculating how long it could last. The third, resigned to a fate he wishes he could avoid. He, of course, has none of the nuanced language to describe these, but he feels it. They examine him in their own ways. Another shiver wracks his body, equal parts chill and fear.

The kit stands still for a moment or two, and drops the prize he held so dearly. The shock in the voice of the first stranger is enough to fill him with his own urgency. Though nothing about his current state is new, but rather dreadfully repetitive in the short span of his life, the big cats seem to think otherwise. You are cold until you find someplace warm. You are hungry until you find something to eat. And when those things run out, you walk and find something else. "I'm ok, should I not be ok?" he considers. And then the question of family comes, parents, a thing the other two echo in their differing replies. It stumps the kit. At three moons, there isn't much to remember. Regardless, the act of trying to remember feelings like pulling a root from deep under frozen ground. It's stuck. Surely there was something before. Someone. Maybe more. "I dunno." This is all he can offer. He hopes it is suffice. Something in his chest tells him not to talk about that anymore.

The next question is much more warm. The concern that was painted on his face vanishes and he pokes his cicada husk. "Isn't it cool?" he exclaims with the only smile his tired muscles can muster, "it's a lizard or something. I think."

The kit would be more than happy to continue to talk about his creature. The others who arrived seem intent on continuing talks of family and parents and the cold from outside and within him creeps back in place. And another word the two say. 'Death'. He surely must have misheard. They call it 'gentle', they call it 'kind', and for all of his knowledge, where ever his knowledge comes from, those roots he cannot pull out, he knows that it is not anywhere near kind. "That's not fun to talk about," he stares pointedly at the second arrival, as close to a glare as a little one can give.

"Who are you, anyways?" he poses the question to all who have confronted him.

✧ ° . ✶ . ° ✧

"speech" // "thoughts"

 

[Eelbrook]

∘˙○˚.• EELBROOK 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

——————————————————— ∘˙○˚.•

The little kitten's answer is all Eelbrook needs to hear to know no one is coming to claim this kitten and has not been for a while. It was to be expected and yet some part of them hoped perhaps there was some family out there for the little one, someone to return to. But if there isn't anyone out there, Eelbrook will step in without hesitation.

They give a stern look towards Galerunner, the young warrior's words like cold sharp ice against their skin. "No one is dying today." they reply just as coldly. "Not when we're here to help."

The arrival of Pikestar is a welcome one, the one cat whose word truly matters in the fate of the child - though no matter what the decision will be, Eelbrook knows they're not abandoning the kit. With their eyes back on the child, they listen to the excited mews describing the husk. "It is very cool." they reply gently. "Not a lizard however, but an insect. Or, what used to be one at least." Eelbrook lowers their body and points towards the hole in the cicada husk. "There comes a time in an insect's life where they must shed their old skin and emerge anew. This hole right here is where it left, leaving only this husk behind." Keeping the kitten occupied with something interesting seems to work more than focusing on the uncomfortable topics of family - something the kid clearly struggles with. "It was a cicada in life. Do you know what cicadas are, little bugling?"

With that they glance towards their brother, with a look both pleading and determined. As if saying You may challenge me, but I'm not leaving this child. Eelbrook rarely sets their foot down, but this, they would fight for.

∘˙○˚.• ——————————————————————————————————————

OOC: n/a