TW: Sensitive Content Backwritten The Colony LIKE A PRAYER

[IVORYKIT]

The air is heavy and suffocating. Sable and his followers have retreated, vanished into the shadows from whence they came. But everything continues to be still, like no one dares breathe — except for the cries of a youth who knows not what has transpired in this very clearing. Shivering and in a pool of its mother's blood lies a kitten; wailing, blind and deaf. The newborn is unaware of its surroundings and doesn't know its mother has passed after the strain and stress of birthing while battle happened. It does not know its father has met a similar fate nor far from them, his throat torn by an enemy who remains unknown. Its littermates were not as lucky as it was, and remain unmoving without sign of life.

Cold is the first and only thing it knows, as it seeks something it shall not find. It yowls for warmth and food it shall never receive from its birth-giver. The little thing has no name for itself, no identity other than a kitten orphaned by war.

CALL DOWN THE RECKONING

☆

TO BRING BACK HOPE AND PEACE

• "speech" @GENTLEFLAME
  takes place dec 7th, shortly after the battle ended!

• 

• TBDKIT he/him, colony kitten, ?? moons.
  ☆ a blue lynx with coppery eyes. Javanese x Ragdoll
  ☆ mentored by who / mentoring no one
  ☆ whichever relations / want listed
  ☆ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
  ☆ penned by nocthymia ↛ hypmic on discord, feel free to dm for plots.

 

[GENTLEFLAME]

༄.𖥔 ݁ ˖ — He would've continued walking had it not been for the loud cries from the orphaned kitten, his ears twitch thinking it may be a figment of his imagination but he didn't see any of his littermates or Scale so he pushes forward to investigate. A scrap of fur that's surrounded by a pool of crimson and it reminds him of how he looks in that moment, the silvery tom swallows not knowing if he should see if anyone else arrived to take the kitten especially those that followed Sable loyally. No one ever arrived... and that's when he knew that he couldn't just leave the kitten by himself, Gentle approaches carefully using his pink nose to nudge the other small bodies for any pulse or see if they'd react to his touch. Nothing. His eyebrows knit together as he finally arrives to the side of the mewling kit and brings it closer to his body so it could leech off of his warmth.

"I guess... you're stuck with me... or I'm stuck with you?" He winces at the words that slip from his maw and knows that the easiest way to get out of this would be to drop the kit off to one of the expecting queens but he doesn't like that idea entirely. He can't nuture or feed the little one given that he isn't nursing, he swallows a lump once more only to lean forward to pick up the orphaned kitten by the scruff. He doesn't even know how his sisters would react to him bringing a newborn to camp or Hawthorne... How would Scale feel about this? His mind spins as he tries to find the best way to go about this and he frowns to himself uncertain but he isn't heartless enough to leave the kit out here in the cold.

Gentle presses onward in the direction that the rest of his col- group, had gone and he stops for a moment to soothe the kitten, it would need a name wouldn't it? Did he have that right? He feels as if he might've stolen that right from the kitten's deceased mother though Gentle tries not to linger on it for long and glances at the pale kitten, his large helm tilts to the side. How had his own mother been able to name him and his littermates? "Snow? Snowy? For your white fur?" He ponders outloud to himself though he didn't like the small association of leaf-bare, no, the kitten needs a better name that's warmer than their current surroundings. Maybe his sisters would've been better help in this yet he didn't see them while he jad stopped in his tracks. Perhaps a bird name like his youngest sister or something serene like Grace?

"I'm not any good at this, huh?" He muses dryly to himself as he continues to stare at the small bundle that's near him and he glances towards the skies knowing that they'd have to take shelter soon enough, a soft huff leaving his powerful jaws and his nose scrunches up. The silver tom thinks about how the kitten stood out against the dark ground and seemed to glisten enough to catch his eye "Ivory."

I KNOW IM MADE OF CLAY THATS WORN 𓆩✦𓆪 BLINDED BY THE IMPERFECT FORM

• ooc
  —

• 

  WARRIOR SKILLS;
  
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧
  HUNTING
  
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧
  TRACKING
  
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✧✧
  COMBAT
  
  — ✦✦✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
  STEALTH
  
  — ✦✦✦✦✦✧✧✧✧✧
  STRATEGY
• ✦ ( I WILL TRUST THE ARTIST MOLDING ME ) gentleflame ; warrior of thunderclan
  
  
  ✦ cismale ; he/him ; 30 moons old ; ages the 27th every month
  
  
  ✦ a large, longhaired blue sepia tom w/low white markings and brown eyes
  
  
  ✦ gentleflame's a very warm and friendly individual to those he meets. he's very social and willing to lend a paw if anyone needs it. he's someone that puts others before himself and a self-sacrificing individual that will shield others from harm's way if he can help it. it's very rare to earn his ire.
  
  
  ✦ demiromantic bisexual ; currently interested in scalejaw
  
  
  ✦ older littermate to grace and crying dove ; currently mentoring... N/A
  
  
  ✦ "speech", thoughts, attacking ; difficult in combat/specializes in heavier attacks, his size, and strategy
  
  
  ✦ easy to befriend/interact with ; hard to anger/upset ; peaceful powerplay allowed

​