𓆣𓆣 Only days ago it had eaten its first solid meal, sharp kitten teeth piercing the hide of a small, bumpy creature. It hadn't been good at the eating part, unsure how to wield its jaws against the various textures that coated the frog's skin. Now, Goldenrodkit has gotten marginally better, or at the very least has found itself enjoying the act of eating more, so much so that all thoughts of bothering its mother for milk have fled its mind. But in the absence of milk, the kit finds itself seeking out more and more and more solid food to eat—which wouldn't be an issue, if not for the dwindling prey pile and the warriors who snap and snarl if Goldenrodkit strays too close to said pile. The kit has bared its teeth right back at a couple of them, but some of them don't even back down after that.
Anyway, though, Goldenrodkit doesn't need their food from the prey pile. It can hunt its own food… like the beetle it's been batting around the camp floor for a while now. The thing has practically given up on trying to escape by now, seemingly resigned to its fate as a kit's chew toy. "Mmmmm…" the kit grunts, continuing to crunch down on the bug. Its shell is tough, but the tortoiseshell can feel the point when it gradually begins to give way. There's an audible crack, then another, as the shell at last splinters under Goldenrodkit's grip. A short gasp escapes its mouth, excitement coloring its expression as it realizes its victory. But then a shadow falls over it and the kit's head shoots up, meeting the approaching clanmate with owl-rounded golden eyes. Clearly, it's a bit surprised by being suddenly interrupted just as it was about to partake in the spoils of its efforts, but its gaze holds little anger. Only a disgruntled noise leaves the kit's mouth, yet still it lies frozen with the bug still held between dark paws, waiting for the other to say something.
Anyway, though, Goldenrodkit doesn't need their food from the prey pile. It can hunt its own food… like the beetle it's been batting around the camp floor for a while now. The thing has practically given up on trying to escape by now, seemingly resigned to its fate as a kit's chew toy. "Mmmmm…" the kit grunts, continuing to crunch down on the bug. Its shell is tough, but the tortoiseshell can feel the point when it gradually begins to give way. There's an audible crack, then another, as the shell at last splinters under Goldenrodkit's grip. A short gasp escapes its mouth, excitement coloring its expression as it realizes its victory. But then a shadow falls over it and the kit's head shoots up, meeting the approaching clanmate with owl-rounded golden eyes. Clearly, it's a bit surprised by being suddenly interrupted just as it was about to partake in the spoils of its efforts, but its gaze holds little anger. Only a disgruntled noise leaves the kit's mouth, yet still it lies frozen with the bug still held between dark paws, waiting for the other to say something.
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GOLDENRODKIT ⁺‧₊☽♰☾₊‧⁺ it/they/she, kit of shadowclan
𓆤 scrawny, scruffy black and gold kit with orange eyes. quiet and independent.
𓆤 chronic upper respiratory infections ; has a gravely voice and constant sniffles.
𓆤 cicadabuzz x wisteriastrike ; sibling to deathberrykit, elderkit, oleanderkit, centipedekit, maggotkit ; half sibling to cloudberrypaw, mistletoepaw, hemlockpaw
𓆤 peaceful or healing powerplay is allowed ; does not like physical contact & may react negatively
𓆤 played by foxlore
