Open Camp Sing me a tune, songbird || intro

This thread takes place inside the clan's camp.

Mockingpaw Mockingpaw

ShadowClan
Apprentice
4
1
Freshkill
35
Pronouns
She/Her
Played by
Rin
- • Mockingkit • -

A warm green-leaf breeze rustled through Mockingkit's long fur, yellow tired eyes watching while other kits squealed and played amongst each other. The caregivers had nudged the orphaned kit outside to play with the others but, Mockingkit saw no interest in such things. The warmth of the sun soaked by her ebony fur while her stubbed tail twitched back and forth.

She was nearly a striking copy to her father, aside from there being obvious traits of the queen who had given birth to the small kit before joining her ancestors alongside Mockingkit's father. The warmth of the sun mixed with the lulls of chatter and kits tusseling around mixed with laughter made the kit slowly begin to doze once more. She was a rare sight to see amongst the kits, always stubbornly glued to their nest or fiding spots to hide to avoid playing with any of the other kits, and unfortunately for her, there was only so much hiding she could do before being caught. Her paws tucked close to her body before assuming into a loafed position, attempting to get any more rest before another kit had decided to tumble into her unsuspectingly.

"Hey! Watch it!" she hissed softly, any thoughts on taking another nap was quickly thrown out the camp to her dismay, and now her eyes kept focus on whoever had decided to roll right into her disturbing her peace.

"Speak" "Thoughts"

Feel free for it to be your character who ran into her or an onlooker!! ))
 
Mirepurr much prefers the neutrality of leaf-fall; not too cold, but not too warm for their plush pelt either. The only redeeming quality of greenleaf is perhaps the abundance of prey and resources, matters that are not to be taken for granted. The pink of their tongue flicks over their outstretched paw, soon drawing it over the back of their neck and ear, entirely content with their current task of grooming themself. It has proven to be quite easy to make a mess of oneself in the pocosin—the deep, still waters cling to you even if you take care in avoiding its outskirts, seeing as the humidity of the marshes loves to stick deep into all corners anyway.

A soft hiss breaks them out of their trance, and Mirepurr has to blink a few times to get their eyes accustomed to the midday rays. Mockingkit had strayed not too far from the nursery, likely out of obligation for a concerned caregiver's request, and now it seems to spell the end of her sleep attempt.

Mirepurr's eyes are round with sympathy.
"I am sure it had been a mere accident,"
they offer before a fight has the chance to break out. That tone had been quite sharp after all.
"Mockingkit, perhaps you can take a nap right here? Still has enough sunshine to warm your back, but it is a bit further away from all the commotion."
They tip their head towards a more secluded spot at the edges of the camp, hoping their suggestion is well-received.