Open Camp HELD TOGETHER WITH STRING / newborns

[ember]

A quarter moon or something akin to it has passed since the battle's conclusion, and still Ember has not been able to groom the air's permanent dampness from her pelt. She has become withdrawn, watching the milling about of Sable's little posse with thinly veiled indignation. Even Scorpion would be finding her sharp teeth snapped in his direction, easy as breathing. Some whispers follow her few defensive conversations with the others - why bother acting like a prisoner, when it had been her own choice to leave her mate and join them? Why wouldn't she just go back? Her reply would have been the kits, too close to arriving, would not take kindly to the journey.

---

The two tortoiseshells arrive amidst a drizzle of rain, and in her exhaustion Ember curls around them protectively. She sees her own coat in one, dark-and-crimson, the setting of the sun and the flickers of flame that adorn her own pelt. In the other, the cream strands strike Frond's name anew into her heart and her expression pinches as if pained.

"So be it. Night and Light: one for each of us, then." She murmurs, and she does not know she has said it.

// @lightkit @nightkit + optional tags @cicadabuzz @Scorpiontear but no need to wait<3 ember is hiding in a corner of camp!

 

[nightkit]

Being born into a world such as this was perhaps a cruel thing. Nightkit wouldn't know to reflect on that, but perhaps in the moons coming, she'd look upon this day with disdain. Not a hate for being alive, simply the act of arriving at such a time. The first thing she knows after her mother's warm embrace is the quiet flickering of water against her pelt, something she would come to love as thoroughly as she hated being born here and now. Quiet squeaks leave her in the brief moments she is not feeding, but otherwise, there was hardly a sound of her.

She is named for her mother- bearing the pelt of her in a tragic mirror, coated in the landscapes of dark and quiet- Nightkit, to be one of the first born into a clan name instead of a single word. To walk amongst the shadows and not in the eaves of golden rays, to peer at the stars from below and sing to them in her mind, not from her muzzle.

____________________ REMOVE YOUR NAME ☆ MAKE YOUR PROMISES ____________________

• "speech"
  

• 

• NIGHTKIT she/her, kit of shadowclan, one moon.
  ☆ a sh black torbie with no white, golden eyes, and an unkempt 'mane' lining her head and back of neck. looks at you with intense eyes, and is normally reserved but not quiet.
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ ember xx frond | sister to lightkit
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[vampire]

The moon swings in the sky; time passes. Much life has waned in the battle and days since, and only now does it begin to wax back towards full. New life joins them under a veil of raindrops, swamp kisses already planted on their tiny foreheads. The squall of kits seizes their attention as easily as the glint of a rifle-barrel does a deer's.

" They're lovely, "

she says around the clump of moss in her teeth, and means it. Her tone is as level as it often is, but there's an impression of fondness upon each word. Their eyes are heavy, dark, level as they glance at the squirming shapes at Ember's belly. They must have come from somewhere, but she doesn't think she's seen Ember pressed up against anyone in quite that way. Not that that means anything.

It's not her business, she supposes. But there's a terse pull to Ember's face that feels familiar, even if Vampire wears her own mask of serenity. It's fortuitous they weren't left with their own bellyful of kits, left only to nurse the scabbing wound on their chest. Isn't it?

She bends a long pale neck to set down the bundle of moss, droplets clinging to its fuzzy surface.

" I heard the news, thought you might be thirsty. "

​

 

[Scorpiontear]

Count your blessings ♦ Count your minutes

Scorpion was no stranger to the ever-nearing birth that weighed heavily on @ember. Whispers followed her, but so too did watchful red eyes and claws ready to strike anyone who might do more than whisper. He still did not know her whole story with Frond, with how she had ended up following Sable alongside him, but he would not let her kittens fall prey to the proverbial wolves. While he offered her support, he hung back. They had never quite been friends, a grey area of a relationship that consisted mostly of trying to one-up the other. Even now, her harsh tongue fell on him just as often as it did their other clanmates, a word still unfamiliar to him.

But he had noticed when she retreated to one of the camp's less traveled corners. He could smell that it was time. Scorpion waited to approach until after the sounds dwindled to murmurs and mewls, and then came to her side. He stayed a tail's length away out of respect. Another she-cat is already there and something rises in his chest. Not quite anger, not quite sorrow. A strange feeling, like he'd lost to this she-cat somehow when she had been the first to comfort his rival.

"Night and Light, poetic."

The bicolor tom says, a slight sneer creeping into his voice and he feels irritation at how much he was being affected by that strange emotion. It was unlike him so he shoved it away. He didn't need whatever that was.

"Night looks so much like you."

Scorpion added, this time in a more neutral tone that leaned towards soft.

It was alright to be soft with kittens, he told himself. They are weak and have to be kept safe until they get strong enough to take care of themselves. Since Frond wasn't here to help care for her mate and kits, he'd just have to help make sure they were raised properly and didn't weigh their mother down too much while they're still young. He couldn't let his rival face off against him with a disadvantage, it would be unfair to both of them.

Played my game ♦ Hell, now you're in it

 

[lightkit]

How amazing to be born! New smells, new feelings, new everything! The little bundle of joy was all that and more. She mewled as loud as she could at the first sensation other than heartbeat and warmth. It wasn't because she was scared, oh no. It was because she was so excited to be here. She felt Nightkit - her opposite in everyway except blood - beside her and could only do her best impression of a purr at the sensation of kin.

The kitten squirmed next to her sister and stretched out her tiny limbs as best she could against her mother. Her mother, the best smell she had ever smelled before. Milky, warm, and surrounding her. How beautiful it was to be alive now! Other new smells joined their little family and she couldn't be happier to have them around.

 

[SABLESTAR]

Such dreadful timing for kitting when it was still all too new. Sablestar didn't have an inkling as to how he could be helpful for Ember, other than barking at someone to get her food or more nesting material to be kept comfortable. Vampire had the same line of thinking. He tried not to dwell about how brazen the season would become as they sat in the thick of it with not just Ember's newborn children, but soon Cicada's as well.

"They will join Cicada and Cherry's kits as ShadowClan's firstborn generation." It is an honor imposed upon them, the first to represent their environment.

Sablestar carefully soothed the sting of his eyes with the cool pad of his paw, looking between the pair with the faintest smile. Nightkit would blend in well with the world around them, and hopefully Lightkit would find the same fitting. "Is there anything I can have someone fetch for you? I can have someone try to dig through the mud for frogs." His belly growled at the idea, a frog would do him wonders right about now, too.

this heart beats cold like the devil his own

• "mew"
• 

  SABLE— he/him ･fifty-two moons ･colonist ; no clan ･penned by gonkpilled

  a black and white tuxedo with dark amber eyes

 

[cicadabuzz]

Cicada approaches silently, their steps careful on the damp earth. The rain beads on their tortoiseshell fur, creating a faint sheen that catches the dim light filtering through the canopy. They carry an air of calm purpose, their watchful eyes fixed on the huddled form of Ember and the two tiny shapes nestled against her. They move like a shadow, their presence soft yet commanding as they come to a stop beside the small family. They lower their head, their breath warm as it brushes over the damp kits. Night and Light, Ember has called them. Cicada's gaze lingers on each in turn—Nightkit, her dark pelt a quiet echo of her mother's fire, and Lightkit, pale and vibrant as a sunbeam breaking through the shadows. The kits squirm weakly, their tiny bodies alive with the promise of new life despite the weight of the world they've entered.

Cicada tilts their head, observing with the precision of a healer. Their nose touches each kit briefly, checking for warmth, the steady rhythm of their tiny breaths. Satisfied, they shift their attention to Ember, their voice low and even. "They're strong," they say, the faintest thread of approval in their otherwise level tone. "And healthy." They glance toward the bundle of moss, droplets clinging to its fibers like tiny jewels, though their attention quickly returns to Ember and her kits. There is something in Ember's guarded posture, in the way she curls protectively around her young, that reminds Cicada of a wounded bird shielding its fragile wings. "You'll need to rest," Cicada advises, their words firm. "Keep them warm. The rain doesn't make for an easy beginning, but it's not without its blessings." They glance skyward, where the drizzle continues to fall, cleansing and steady. "Water brings life as much as it takes it." Their gaze shifts briefly to Scorpion, their expression unreadable, before returning to Ember. "Call if you need anything," they say, straightening with a fluid grace. "I'll be nearby."