PAFP FALLING PETALS | scary stories

[BRIGHTPETAL]

Leafbare nipped like kittens on an unsuspecting cat's ears. Though Brightpetal could not claim this to be his first time experiencing the cold, there was an inherent inexperience to navigating it as his whole world changed. Everything was new, weird in a way where he liked it but felt as if his place in it hadn't been decided. One thing had stayed the same though - the curiosity of youth. It was that which he'd decided to focus on before breakfast that foggy morning, helped along by the approach of an all-too-curious Thistlekit.

There was an energy to Brightpetal's step, equal parts optimistic and frantic, his wolfish grin and wide eyes at odds with one another. No StarClanner had approached him upon that bloody battlefield, yet... staring down at the silver child of their late leader, he couldn't help but see the similarities of an awe-inspiring situation play out before him, as if the young one's own father was looking back at him, ready to tell him how to be the best ThunderClanner he could be.

The illusion was shattered, though not ruined, when Thistlekit offered no advice but instead a request. "A story?!" He twisted his head like an owl. Surely he wasn't old enough to have the same great stories of the elders, nor had his life been eventful enough to offer one with a moral like some of his peers. Yet, Thistlekit had asked and Brightpetal felt bound by duty to answer. "Of course, I know one... about... the..." He racked his brain for answers until a familiar figure appeared over and over again, its grim shadow causing the hairs on his spine to stand to attention.

His ears flattened as he inhaled, clearing his throat when his lungs reached capacity. "Let me tell you a tale of Clover the Cruel." He reclined on his haunches, tail wrapped around his paws as if protecting them from the very monster that haunted his vision. "It's a real spooky one, I promise."

@thistlekit



​

 

[thistlekit]

They are fearless for within their month of existence they've encountered nothing to fear. Not when they have Serpentberry ready and willing to heal and protect them. Not when they have Thornstar watching over them from Starclan (whatever that meant - it was much too complicated for a toddling kit to comprehend). And certainly not when they have many Thunderclanners looking out for them… well, for the most part.

Boldness draws the silvery child of stars and herbs to Brightpetal's side. He shines like a beacon, his smile wide and inviting. Whatever expectation he has within his mind is fabrication when Thistlekit actually speaks — not that the kitten knows they've just squashed whatever honor the warrior had built up in his mind. "Can you… tell me… a story?" Thistlekit asks slowly, deliberately bringing the right words to mind. Speaking was still a novel skill bestowed upon the rosetted child and they were determined to master it.

Such a request is accepted and Thistlekit's bright blue eyes become even brighter with glee. Even as Brightpetal sucks in a breath to wrack his brain for a tall tale. The kitten kneads the ground in anticipation and gasps something utterly soft and awed at the name 'Clover the Cruel'. They lean in ever so closer, ears perked and attention fixed like cement upon the fiery warrior. "Tell me… please." They whisper, prepared for a story that must be good if it elicited that kind of response from someone way older than them.

 

[Heartkit]

HEARTKIT OF THUNDERCLAN

" What did Clover the Cruel do? "

The young voice rang out from behind Brightpetal, Heartkit's wide eyes brimming with curiosity as her fur fluffed up slightly. She had crept closer to the older cat when she'd started speaking, clearly captivated.

Nestling herself beside Brightpetal, she glanced toward Thistlekit, her expression brightening as she offered them a small, warm smile. She liked having Thistlekit nearby, stories were always better when shared.

Her gaze flickered briefly around the area, a spark of hope in her expression. She wondered if Hopekit had joined them too. Wouldn't that be nice? she thought with a little giggle at her own wordplay. " Hoped Hopekit, " she repeated in her head. If Hopekit was here, they could all listen to Brightpetal's story together, and Heartkit was certain it would be the best story yet!

Here I am, so young and strong——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— Right here in the place where I belong

 

[hopekit]

Hopekit was, as he so often was these days, to be found right behind his sister. He comes up to join her next to Brightpetal, purring softly as he settles next to her. On his left, Thistlekit is looking up at Brightpetal too, their eyes bright blue and full of expectancy. Hopekit himself did not say anything to the warrior, merely there to be in the presence of his sister. The story that would or would not be told was secondary. He loved his sister very much, whatever love meant to a kit of just over a moon, who did not know hate yet. In that way, maybe he knows love better than anyone else– because he does not know it exists, and therefore does not know the opposite of it. All he knows is that when he's next to his sister, or his mom, he feels happy, and when he's away from them, he's sad.

He rests his head on his paws, letting his eyes fall shut. He doesn't intend to sleep, but he might not be able to help himself. The world is so large and noisy, and he so very small.

 

[BRIGHTPETAL]

Thistlekit's eagerness was a badge of honour and a sign of high expectations - Brightpetal couldn't decide which feeling took centre stage as he mulled over his story. He leaned in, prepared for it to be a solitary story, when, out of the blue, the dreaded's name was uttered. The orange tom jumped and spun in place, mouth parted in a silent shriek. "Wah, Heartkit!" He scolded without intent, the fur upon his spine as bristled as a hedgehog's. "Don't sneak up on cats when they're scared... haha... it's like... not great." He couldn't keep the smile off of his muzzle, as if despite being the butt of it, it was still all one big joke. His attention quickly swiveled back to Thistlekit. "Not that I am scared of my own story. I'm cool, you know." As cool as a newleaf moon, though, perhaps that was just the frost on his whiskers speaking.

A final little one hobbled over and the weight of his predicament flattened the fur upon his shoulders. "Ah, there's more of you than I thought... ok... that means I've got to make it extra good," he inhaled deeply, smiling through the pressure of three pairs of eyes upon him. Hopekit looked one prayer away from slumber, it was as if his presence alone was as if Juniperstar herself was an audience member - what sort of boring cat would he be if someone fell asleep during his spookiest tale yet?

He cleared his throat, taking a chance on the first things that came to his mind.
"There once was a creature called Clover the Cruel,
Whose breath burned like fire and teeth were slathered in drool.
His ears perked like a rabbits, he could detect your whisper,
And should anyone blink, he would steal a whisker.
He are your food and raided your dens with his mole-claws and grin,
His stubby tail twitched when in a war you would not win.
But if you stayed calm, his inner voice would shout,
'I'm Sable's soul, let me out!'"

"Who does he visit, one might say?
The bad kittens, the ones whose heads do not lay,
on their nests at night, when their carers tell them so,
one whisker, two whisker, off they go,
to join him in exile, where his body lay underground,
and all your lovely whiskers, will never ever be found."

His pale paw brushed against his own white whiskers, one upon the left side significantly shorter than the others. "See? He stole one of mine when I ignored my mother." That may have had something to do with him chewing it off in his sleep, but truth seldom made a great story. Half-appraisingly, Brightpetal waited to see if they liked his tale or wanted to hear more of it.
​

 

[hopekit]

As Brightpetal begins to tell his tale, Hopekit's ears flick in his direction. A certain string of words catches his attention, and his eyes blink open again, brow furrowed. He continues to look at Brightpetal until he finishes his story, ending it by mourning his lost whiskers.

"What is a… Say-bool," he says slowly, each word tasting weird and foreign in his mouth– particularly the last one. It was one he'd never said out loud before, although to be fair, at this age, most words were new. "And what is a soul…?" His face screws up in deep thought, as if he intended to answer these questions himself somehow.

 

[thistlekit]

Their wide expectant gaze drifts from Brightpetal to Heartkit and Hopekit as the duo make their way over. Thistlekit giggles at the fiery warrior's 'not' startle, debating whether or not to believe him. But to question his bravery before he has even told the tale would be foolish… and Thistlekit didn't want to ruin the story time for themselves and their nursery mates.

Brightpetal begins to speak in a voice of grandeur. It is captivating and causes a shiver to run down the rosetted kitten's spine. This Clover the Cruel fellow sounded downright terrifying! Enough to make Thistlekit hunch inward and flick their gaze toward the subtle shifting shadows, as if expecting the beast to emerge and pluck their whiskers. "W-We aren't bad kittens though…" Thistlekit whispers to soothe their nerves, and hopefully quell any worries blossoming in Heartkit and Hopekit. "Would you protect us from the… the 'Say-bool'? And from Clover the Cruel? If they came to take our whiskers?"

Thistlekit looks to Brightpetal in wait — the question burden heavy waiting to be dropped upon the warrior's shoulders.

 

[Heartkit]

HEARTKIT OF THUNDERCLAN

Hopekit's wide, round eyes gazed up at Brightpetal, her little ears perked with curiosity, though confusion clouded her innocent face. She tilted her head slightly, blinking a few times as she tried to grasp the tale. Brightpetal always had a way of making stories feel alive, his voice was warm, kind, and funny in a way she adored. She liked him a lot.

Her attention shifted to Hopekit beside her, and a small wave of relief swept through her tiny frame. While she liked playing with the other kits, it was always better when her quiet brother was nearby. His presence made everything feel safer, even in this warm, kind place that already felt like a dream.
But as Brightpetal continued his story, something strange welled up in her chest, a feeling she didn't quite understand. Her little heart tightened, and her wide eyes grew even wider as she leaned closer to Hopekit, her tiny frame pressing protectively against his side.

"Don't worry, Hopekit, Thistlekit! I'll protect you from Saboyl! " she declared with the bravery only a kit could muster, puffing out her chest. Her voice was filled with youthful determination, though it quivered just slightly at the end. She glanced back at Brightpetal, her tail flicking.

" No one will hurt us...! We're nice kits! " she added firmly, as if her kindness alone could shield them both from any danger. She looked at Brightpetal again, her gaze pleading for reassurance. Even if the tale spoke of scary things, she wanted to believe that in this place, they would always be safe.

Here I am, so young and strong——･ﾟ✦​

･ﾟ✦ —— Right here in the place where I belong