Private Shipyard Backwritten IN A CONSUMER FLOOD ☾⋆⁺₊ CLAY

[Crescentpaw]

Crescent wasn't a big fan of the sand of the Shipyard, he found it too grainy against his paws when dry and then too sludgy when wet. She guessed it would help him be more inclined to swim since the water gave a temporary solace to a never ending issue. Even if she's pretty sure this is the first thing she's found to hate in her four moons of life there are some positives to it. For example, cool rocks and shells were often buried in the sand and who was she to pass that up? The whole shipyard can probably tell when he's entered the stage of the moon cycle where he becomes fascinated with shells because she is often found going "ew ew ew ew" while digging through clumps of sand to find them. Today is no different, fascination grips her like a viper as he scrunches up a white muzzle. Paws dig out clumps of sand at a time, it would be worth it because this shell would be special, this shell is a gift.

The albino kitten isn't the most sociable, she often relies on Rush to carry conversation half the time. Gift giving was an easier way of speaking, a way to let someone know that you want to be friends or that you think they're pretty cool without saying anything. He thinks Clay is pretty cool, she's tough given all that she must have seen before coming here, since her mother was eaten and what not. She seems scary though, once again he thinks it may be because her mother was eaten, Crescent can't think about Wave being eaten. She frowns at the thought but keeps digging, maybe this might make being at the Shipyard nicer? "Blegh" it's hard to not gag as he digs, though something stops him mid complaint. It dies as a tiny paw makes contact with something smooth, intriciate ridges engraved into it, a shell!

As he pulls it out from the sandy grave she notices something else, it's a lot darker outside right now. Pink eyes look up from shell only to notice that the darkness was a shadow, belonging to the very cat she subjected herself through this torture for. "Oh, Clay" She tries to dust some of the sand off the shell before holding it up to the intimidating kit. "This is for you! It's a uh.... Friendship shell" She really hopes the other doesn't question him about what a friendship shell is because in truth he doesn't actually know.

"If you don't like it we could find another one! Or.... Even if you like it we could find more?" Has she even seen a shell before? Surely, they're so cool how could she not have?

|| Set some time before the shelter collapse @clay

 

[clay]

Clay wonders to herself, briefly, about why these cats are so kind. She can't imagine doing the same, could never see her father giving gifts out. No, he was quite the opposite, a feral defender of their family. She wonders where he may have gone, or if the rogues had slaughtered him as well. It sickens her to think about it, so she picks herself up from where she perches, dropping down to try and find a new distraction. She can't bear to sit and wonder about what could be, instead a drive placed in her gullet to find what is. And it brings her back to her original thought after all, as she wanders towards the sand.

Lily had found seaglass that matched her eyecolor. That was tucked in her hiding spot, stored safely away. Lichen had given her the kindness of staying, of being fed, of living, even if she was slowly being expected to learn to hunt and fish alongside the rest. She didn't mind that, anyways. It was good to actually do something and not be stuck curled up in a ball. This cat, however, was elbow deep in the sands of the shore, mumbled to himself about how gross it was. Mismatched goldens blinked, approaching- she doesn't realize her taller form casts as shadow over the younger, but as albino-pink eyes turn to look up at her, Clay can only cock her head curiously.

Oh, Clay, this is for you! She resists the urge to turn and press her ears against her head. Another gift? She wonders briefly how nuts these kits must be, or is this a common-place activity here? To hand such things to one another without thinking? Was this pre-meditated, going looking for this shell? "A.. friendship shell." Clay manages to dumbly repeat, stepping back to give the other some room to stand up and move. The shell is held towards her, and mismatched goldens blinked. Carefully, as if she may break it, Clay takes the fossil and lays it down to move it with her paw, inspecting it deftly. She doesn't think there's any special reason to the color or pattern, like Lily had said, but still, it was a heartfelt action, right? "Thank.. you." She says, trying to keep confusion from her tone.

"It- I do like it." Clay says, almost defensive. Paw turns and swipes it closer to her, vision lifting towards Crescent. Mismatched goldens squint, blinking once. Almost defensive- no, she was defensive. If kindness was freely given here, she was being greedy, taking it where she could. "More? You mean there's more here?" Clay asks. She turns her vision towards the rest of the sand, some of which Cresecent had already disturbed. No, she didn't know the ins-and-outs of water-based territory. She had lived in a loft space of a broken down, abandoned twoleg nest, learning to climb the guts of the home. This was far different, everything flat or lined by dying twoleg ships, huts past where the tide broke.

"speech"