TW: Sensitive Content PAFP Camp SPIT BLOOD [ KIT FIGHT ! ]

[hazykit]

[ THIS IS NOW OPEN!! tldr: hazykit attacka faithkit and won't let up. sens. con. for kid injury resulting in blood and vague murder ideations (but she's like a kid and doesn't rlly know what murder is) ]

Hazykit doesn't often have a 'mission.' She leaves the fun to Fawnkit and the worrying to Dawnkit, drifting between the two as their anchoring point despite it all. Her purpose in life, this far at least, is to serve as proof in some way. Proof that her eccentric sisters can be evened out, that her ill mother need not worry for them all, that their absent father lost much when he abandoned them... But beyond that, Hazykit seems to have nothing to herself. One cannot say that she even has a favorite color - the distinction between any hue or shade is almost instantly forgotten in favor of chasing down one of her siblings to ensure they didn't get into trouble.

Her tail lashes, however, as the words of a nursery caretaker echo in her ears. "They'll be in here soon." The trio that Serpentberry brought in before she unceremoniously passed. They stayed with Rowanpaw in her den due to the littlest one's illness, but supposedly, that runt has healed enough to be squandered away into her den. The one space where she and her family were meant to have peace. Where now, Thornkit can continue taunting and bullying her sister, Falsekit can continue... doing whatever he wants, and Faithkit can be sick, and sicker, and sicker then that even - yet still earn more care than Hazykit's mother ever has. How is that fair?

She moves without the indication that she might. Suddenly, a pale phantom among ThunderClan's camp, the kitten strides in long, loping bounds towards the medicine den. She's never liked it in here, never even tried to sneak about the stores... That was Dawnkit's stupidity, not hers. She spies the scaled, plain-faced molly she intends to interrogate.

"What's your worth?" she breathes out, stalking towards the like-aged girl. "How come you get to lie here, pampered, yet my mother must rot away on her own? What have you done, other than cry and cough?"

 

[Faithkit]

FAITHKIT

A BOUQUET OF BRAMBLES

SHE/HERx THUNDERCLAN KITx 02 MOONS​

☆ A sickly fawn cream tortoiseshell with low white
☆ Adopted child of Serpentberry, littermates with Falsekit and Thornkit
☆ penned by Juice↛ Ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.​

​

You find yourself hard pressed to label anyone as an 'intruder'. Thornkit seemed to do that plenty for you and while Falsekit and him butt heads you have yet to see them disagree over that. While the adults of ThunderClan were quick to scold him for such behaviour you would and do trust his instincts. He doesn't seem to get along with Hazykit's sister so would that too label Hazykit as a problem? You don't want to immediately jump to a yes but as she strides into the medicine cat den you stiffen a little. She seems to have a purpose, unfortunately you realise as you push yourself out of the den with fawnlike shaky limbs that it might just be you she's looking for. You meet her half way, blinking languidly at her sharp face and stern features where her eyebrows meet in a sharp pinch. Anger, you think? Dissapointment maybe? You're uncertain, you can't say you pay attention enough to her face beyond the crease of fictitious eyebrows.

"My worth?" You rasp with confusion, pawing at the ground nervously with a flicker of your ear. You don't break eye contact even though every part of you screams to avoid the situation entirely. You never saw your mother do that, even when she greeted death. Serpentberry from all you have seen and heard hasn't done that either so truly why should you? Deciding to honour both mothers facade and truthful you shake your head with conviction at her. "I don't ...know what you mean." You hope that maybe she would leave it alone after that, squinting at her you decide to continue. "I'm sorry? About your mother?" Did she cough or cry? Maybe if she did she wouldn't be so harsh to you.

"What's your worth then?" The challenge slips from you a little easier, you ignore the wheeze that follows on your exhale. "Since you could be... doing anything else than bothering the sick?" With a huff you move to side step her, tail lashing. "Goodbye" not bothering to attach her name to your goodbye, it felt easier to not regard her so personally.

 

[hazykit]

Faithkit acts dumb - that must be it. She apologizes, but to Hazykit it feels hollow and purposeless. Air expelled only to make her shut her own maw. It won't work. Her sisters are flighty and anxious, so maybe in return, she can be stubborn, maybe even ruthless. "That means nothing to me," she snaps, perhaps too quickly for her morning glow facade. Her ears draw back as the other kitten continues, seemingly both annoyed yet unbothered by Hazykit's prodding.

"My worth?" she replies even-keeled, brows still furrowed and pale eyes building with fury. "My mother fought for this home. She will be buried here, too, when her illness takes her -" a monologue to be had, yet it fades on her tongue as the other kit mutters a farewell and tries to move past her. Frustration builds in her joints as she shifts to the side suddenly, checking her shoulder into the other's. She grimaces with the instant soreness that blooms in its place, ears pinned to her head.

"I wasn't done - talking -!" Hazykit huffs as she launches next, aiming to land her paws atop the girl's rasping lungs. Her claws arc into whatever they can grasp, the molly unyielding in her childish rage.

 

[Faithkit]

FAITHKIT

A BOUQUET OF BRAMBLES

SHE/HERx THUNDERCLAN KITx 02 MOONS​

☆ A sickly fawn cream tortoiseshell with low white
☆ Adopted child of Serpentberry, littermates with Falsekit and Thornkit
☆ penned by Juice↛ Ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.​

​

You pay no mind to her snapping, you would consider yourself quite talented in dealing with the snappish type. Though Thornkit's ire is never aimed towards you, if you were more fragile emotionally maybe it could effect you. Thankfully you're just born with a weak immune system, not a weak psyche. Squaring your shoulders as you bid your farewell in an attempt to move past her you try to ignore the monologue Hazykit had clearly been building up to. You don't feel the need to once again ask about her own personal worth, since she was eager to deflect back to her ailing mother you see no need to continue this conversation.

A streak of callousness, one you wouldn't have if it was their mother you were speaking with. To your understanding though Hazykit has never really had to experience illness before, you think her mother should be appaled. You could be appaled if your littermates acted like this if it weren't for the codependent symbiotic nature the three of you have with another. Now isn't the time to address your numerous biases for kin though, you just hold the inclination to escape.

The pain burns against your shoulder from where she collides it. Physical injury isn't something you're accustomed to as privileged as you are to say. You have been too fragile for play fighting with your brothers and you don't think any of them would allow you to play rough now with any of the other kits anyways. Now could be your only chance really, too used to being treated with what you deem a near reference for your illness the sudden roughness is too abrupt. Anger flushes in your chest, almost as strong as a fever. "I don't care about your..." you trail off with a winding cough. Moving to tug at her ear with kitten claws as her own find connection with your chest.

"Your dying mother" maybe you would if you hadn't already been gifted two in your short moons of life. The two of you being intertwined in such a way you could almost assume it as dancing. "Get off of me!" You shriek with a wheezing splutter as you try to box your paw against the side of her jaw. I hope she dies. I hope you're scarred forever you horrible beast the thought doesn't dare form into your own words. Would this be truly something Faithkit could be so cruel to say? What about Nettle? The girl you had buried long before now, would she say this? As the tightness clutches at your chest you think the spirit of her is out to finally seek it's revenge.

 

[hazykit]

The kitten beneath her wheezes like she can't breathe, and Hazykit can't help but feel some kind of comeuppance with it. As if her lack of breath is giving more to Sunleap, as if somehow, they can trade lives... But claws snag on the soft flesh of her ears, and though the other struggles with a cough and a heave, the sunset girl finds that she feels a searing pain and a few drops of something warm cresting her face. She presses harder with her unsheathed claws, as if she can dig out the other's ribcage and lungs. The anger is suddenly unending.

"I wish -" a paw whacks the side of her face, and she feels a claw clip into her lip. The same pain, the same dribble of warmth. Pale fur is being stained red on both of them. Hazykit doesn't let up, no matter how much Faithkit begs. "I wish no one cared about you!" She growls. Perhaps it is a saving grace that Hazykit has yet to have seen anyone kill. There've been threats, but not yet has she seen teeth mar a throat so irreversibly. All she knows is that she has the other pleading, gulping for air and sputtering it out all the same. The fur on her shoulders ruffles, yet all she does is... stand atop the other. She doesn't flail, she doesn't swipe. She just... exists to torment Faithkit.

"I'm tired of you!" Uncharacteristically, the volume of her voice grows louder, pitches uncomfortably. "My mother is going to - she's going to die -!" and thus far, Faithkit (along with her siblings) knows that feeling best. Hazykit ignores that kindred feeling as it blossoms beneath bloody fur. She snarls, instead, flashing her pearly whites, her claws grasp and thrash in the small clutch of fur she has with the other, hoping to rattle her some, "I'm tired of you!"

She doesn't notice the hot tears trailing down her face all the same.

 

[Thornkit]

Every moment spent outside of the nursery, away from Faithkit's side, is a moment coated in guilt and, marginally, fear. Thornkit despised that he needed to wander and move so often, but on the few occasions that he'd forced himself to sit still and do nothing, the world around him had grown overwhelming and he'd felt as though he was going to explode - not in anger, or frustration, in the usual way he did, but that he would physically burst. It was a horrible feeling, and through many immense mental hurdles that had to be jumped, Thornkit had come to the conclusion that, despite his reluctance to, it was better for him to take leave from his sister's side every so often than suffer beside her. It offered some comfort knowing that Falsekit would be with Faithkit if Thornkit wasn't, even if Falsekit had grown more strange over the past moon.

It just meant that when something did, inevitably, go wrong when Thornkit wasn't with Faithkit, it weighed all the more heavily on him.

Thornkit had been doing laps around ThunderClan's camp when it had happened. He might not even have known what was going on at first if he hadn't been coming around on the medicine cat's den again, and the unusual rustling and high-pitched voices caught his ear. That alone had a frown settling onto his face, and he picked up his pace, trotting up to the den's entrance and peering in. Thornkit had felt many a negative emotion since his and his siblings' arrival in ThunderClan, and he'd been angry plenty of times, for any number of reasons. He'd never felt an anger that dropped the ground out from beneath his paws, never felt an anger that smothered him, plugging his ears and blinding him. Yet, at the sight of Faithkit - his sister, his everything - trapped under the paws of one of the ThunderClanners, Thornkit felt a rush as he'd never experienced before.

He thinks he might have said something - perhaps a, How dare you?, or something similar - but everything else is less than his target. Thornkit lurches forward, throwing the full force of his body at Hazykit with little regard for anyone's safety. Blood, tears, teeth, claws, it's all nothing to Thornkit in the moment. All he can feel is a rage beyond his years and all he can hear is his sister's ragged breathing.

THORNKIT—he/him + 02 moons
ThunderClan kit
NPC ♡ NPC | adopted by Serpentberry
Brother to Falsekit, Faithkit
Mate to N/A | Father to N/A
Mentored by N/A | Mentoring N/A

penned by Archivist

 

[Faithkit]

FAITHKIT

A BOUQUET OF BRAMBLES

SHE/HERx THUNDERCLAN KITx 02 MOONS​

☆ A sickly fawn cream tortoiseshell with low white
☆ Adopted child of Serpentberry, littermates with Falsekit and Thornkit
☆ penned by Juice↛ Ouijeejuice on discord, feel free to dm for plots.​

​

Left at the mercy of claws too young to peel flesh from the bone but draws drops of scarlet all the same. You're left wondering what you even did to her, you don't speak much to their littermates nor them. You're familiar and partially dislike one of them through proxy of your own littermates. They're your lifeline into most things ThunderClan, wherever it be socially or through something as simple as remembering what the landmarks of the camp even were. You make no effort to further bloodshed, merely reminded of the helpless child you truly are you batter and box at whatever parts of Hazykit's face you can find in the panic. If your claws happened to clip at tear at fractions of her face then that was a small victory. "Let me go!" You plead though you can't help but notice she isn't paying much mind to your wheezing amongst her complaining. How is it despite being the attacker she is finding a reason to complain and make you at fault for this?

This should be the part where you apologise as if it's your fault that her mothers going to die. Though that doesn't really sit right with you, as deep down you don't care about the life of another. Not one of a cat you've never known, what has her mother ever done for you? Enough emotions and turmoil have brewed within your tiny heart for two mothers, that's a whole other loss that Hazykit will never have to feel, she should really be thankful that it's just the one. Your breath devolves over time, a heaving and ragged sound that carries a gravelly quality to it. The sound of someone sick, she's going to kill you, you think. The blood of her mother isn't enough for her, she has to be the reason you die too, how selfish.

The tears in her vision are mirrored in yours, two girls left squabbling ,swallowing hot tears and phlegm or maybe that last part is just you. "Shut up!" You bark, choking on your own spit and mucus building up as you do so. "I can't... I can't breath Hazykit!" You can for now, how long until your rattling lungs now left bleeding on the outside would give in? I hope I die and I'm buried next to your mother. I hope you have to see my grave every day. I hope you feel so bad you die! Is that a thing cats can do? You aren't sure but you're left wishing that upon her anyways. Thornkit is your only saving grace currently, you don't find yourself blaming him for his absence rather feeling grateful that he's here at all. Coughing and hacking violently you feel your ribs press against stretched skin, pushed by a rapidly beating heart. "Thornkit" you rasp in hopes of calling his attention, to try and save him from any adults who might blame him somehow in all this.

 

[Magnoliapeak]

I SIP A TOAST TO NORMALCY

Magnoliapeak returns from hunting without much pomp and circumstance. She helms her patrol proudly, and when she strides back into camp she's about to bark another order when something catches her attention. There is the distinct sound of fighting, muffled by the walls of the medicine cat den. Shock ripples through her as she assumes the worst: perhaps a predator in their stores, or an unhappy cat going after Rowanpaw in the wake of her mother's death. Magnoliapeak's mind flits to Loonstar for a moment, but she finds herself disgusted by the intrusion of that thought. Does she really have so little faith...? Shouldn't she allow her aunt to grieve? To suffer through turbid moon after turbid moon, trembling under the weight of loss and mistake.

Magnoliapeak drops the thrush that she is carrying and rushes toward the den. What she doesn't expect is that when she pushes inside, there are only kits. Hazykit is borderline suffocating Faithkit, and Thornkit is trying to shred the former. "Stop it!" Magnoliapeak commands, yellow eyes wide with shock "What in StarClan is wrong with you all?!". She isn't sure she's ever seen kits fight like warriors; there were nursery squabbles every once in awhile, but they never escalated to this level. She isn't even really sure what she sees, and moves quickly to intervene where she sees the most force happening. The dilute tortoiseshell dips her head to grasp Hazykit's scruff and yank her away from both Thornkit and Faithkit.

Faithkit's wheezing, ragged breath is not lost on Magnoliapeak either. She does not care for these kits- they are not her own- but she had heard that one of the kits Serpentberry had brought home was sickly. The coughing kit is a terrible sight. She stands in the midst of the kits, trying to keep them from going after one another again, and weighs what to do. 'Where is Rowanpaw?!' she wonders silently, uncertainty rippling under her coat. Magnoliapeak squeezes her eyes shut, not wanting to raise the alarm but knowing that it must be done. "Someone get Rowanpaw!" She cries toward the entrance of the medicine cat den, hoping one of her clanmates is close enough to hear.

Then, she turns her gaze back to the quarreling triad. "What the hell is all of this about?!" She hisses, eyes narrowed in lingering shock-horror that has melted into prickling anger.

— ⋆˙⟡

✿ magnoliapeak is a thunderclan storm guard with sharp resolve and strict standards.
✿ 30 moons old, ages on the 11th of each month.
✿ currently mentoring flickerpaw and sandpiperpaw
✿ in battle, physically difficult and psychologically difficult
✿ her parents are hazelheart x bracken. she is littermate to honeysucklecry and hyacinthrain. she is gen 2 on the junipersable tree.
✿ penned by carat, see her tags here.

 

[FALSEKIT]

In a rare show of vulnerability, Falsekit allowed themselves to lie down a few mouse-lengths away from their sister. Boredom permeated into their hunched form, though the snow-spotted kitten had not truly relaxed quite yet, with muscles still bunched and taut beneath gossamer skin. Faithkit will be fine. They hoped, perhaps naively placing a little too much trust into the strangers that surrounded them. They had not hurt them yet, so why should they think otherwise? Strange ivy walls loomed above them, with the bitter scents of herb and lichen something that the young kitten hadn't gotten used to, like a cold rhythm sending shivers along their spine. Still, it became familiar enough to wish to lull them to sleep, like some sharp-needle lullaby from the lips of a visitor. Somebody entered the medicine cat den, but Falsekit had learned not to expect too much from the quiet song of fronds brushing against flanks. They probably sought Rowanpaw, now that Serpentberry had gone away, in the same manner as their mother. (Ironic, he would remark, if he were old enough to understand the concept.) But, no cry for the ruddy-coated molly echoed through the den. So, they blinked their eyes open, sunrays flitting into the jewels beset in plush sockets. Keen, pointed ears caught upon the sounds of commotion before it had ever escalated, as though battle-cries rending into open air, clawing their way into the naked belly of whatever quietude they could be afforded. Falsekit jolted awake, suddenly, as the screech of their own sister poured without cessation from her fragile maw.

Faithkit and another child (Hazykit, if they remembered correctly) fought, but it was not with harsh yet dullard words that children often employed, but rather nails and fangs in the manner of true beasts. Hazykit screeched incessantly of something that happened to their own mother, acting like it was the end of the world somehow, and distaste only curdled at the child's downturned lip. You aren't the only one who lost their mother. We did so. Twice. And yet, Falsekit did not stir from their position quite yet. They wondered, briefly, if Faithkit could find the strength and the fortitude to overcome this opponent. She was sickly, yes, but they never believed her to be weak. The fawn tortoiseshell's paws stayed firmly rooted to the ground until Thornkit rushed into the nursery, slamming his full weight onto Hazykit's own, as if he aimed to squash the other like an overgrown insect. By now, that intimate sensation of seething jealously sank into their beating heart, belying the stone-carved form of the emotionless kitten. It had been such an interesting experiment, until their brother had to ruin it - as he always tended to do. If Thornkit had to jump in and play the hero, then Falsekit could not allow him to upstage them. He ran towards Hazykit's opposite flank, and aimed their head to bite at one of the other child's front legs, attempting to grab onto the bony limb for as long as possible. They aimed to draw blood, knowing that the reddish fluid dwelled within all of them, but whether they had any success depended on if Hazykit were able to wrench their leg away from them quickly enough. Still, the feeling of warm flesh between his palate and tongue lingered uncomfortably where it once pressed.

By the time Magnoliapeak swept the impudent kid away from the reaches of her denmates, Falsekit had already relented their vice-grip. The young kit could tell that Magnoliapeak expressed disgust, likely at the fact that the children had been quarrelling violently just moments before. He had noticed that of Thunderclan's warriors, acting as worldly mediators that pushed and pulled them around wherever they pleased. So, Falsekit figured that she must want to know the truth. "Hazykit hurt Faithkit. We hurt her back. She would have never gotten hurt if she didn't hurt my sister first." Falsekit insisted to the storm guard, fictitious eyebrows knitting in stark resolve of their own actions, as if their own reasoning were synonymous with the absolute truth. And it was true, that Hazykit had picked a fight for no discernable reason other than their own rage. Faithkit had not attacked her first, and thus, they reasoned that the blame should go unto the attacker. The light-colored tom then trotted to Faithkit's side, with worry flooding into their downy-furred visage, like sunrays now smothered where coldness once welled to the surface. "Are you alright, Faithkit?" Warmth sunk into their concerned words, much different from how frigidly they relayed their version of the events to Magnoliapeak. Greyish-blue eyes shot a dagger-ended glance at Hazykit. This isn't over. Nobody hurts my sister and gets away with it.

SUNSHINE IS FAR, CLOUDS LINGER ON

☾

EVERYTHING I POSSESSED, NOW THEY ARE GONE

• OOC. text
• 
  NOTE: This is a very loose reference until I can draw a more accurate reference. <3​
• 

  FALSEKIT & 02 MOONS

  ​

  —— Agender / Any Pronouns & Gendered Terms
  —— Kitten of Thunderclan / Adopted by Serpentberry / Biological sibling to Faithkit & Thornkit
  —— A shorthaired fawn tortoiseshell with medium-high white and greyish-blue eyes. Walks with a confident, almost unassuming posture. Talks with a calm and collected voice, and one much too mature for their age.
  —— Outwardly, Falsekit is an affable and polite cat with natural charisma. Within the controlled walls of their own making, they are a skeptical and nihilistic soul, often going about in life in accordance to their own morbid curiosity.
  —— Penned by Tempest. Contact on Discord (naruk4mi) for plots and threads.

 

[Echokit. Echokit.]

SO WITH THIS BLADE TURNED TO SCYTHE, I RID A MIRACLE-
SLICE YOUR HEART, AND CALLUS YOUR LOVE

​

‎

Echokit

, He/Him / 4 moons /

Thunderclan - Kit

Long hair chocolate point cinnamon tortie with low white and vitiligo, has ice coloured eyes
Younger Sibling to SNOWCAP, GRACEPAW & BRIARPAW, Littermate to FRECKLEKIT & VICTORYKIT
A closed off and angry individual, not very talkative but generally snarky, jealous of those who are truly happy
Tagging

[ @rowanpaw ]

‎

Echokit was once again left to his own devices, his parents busier with his siblings as per the usual. So, the little grump walked around camp to see if he could keep up with the goings on, but eventually he just started playing around with some foliage. As he got one of the leaves to go further up than before, he noted that a patrol had returned.

All of a sudden, one of the Warriors among the patrol, the Stormguard Magnoliapeak, just dropped what they were carrying and rushed towards the medicine den. Did they feel ill all of a sudden? Echokit moved closer and he heard some commotion in there and the Stormguard suddenly called out of the den ordering that someone go and get Rowanpaw.

Echokit looked around, it seemed that none of the Warriors nearby heard. Great, so it fell to him, a kitten of all things to fetch someone else.

"Of course that's my luck."

He grumbled and rushed off to where he last saw the Medicine cat.

"Hey, Rowanpaw!"

He bluntly approaches her, disregarding how rude he might sound with such a tone.

"Something's up at the medicine den. Don't know what but it sounds bad, and Magnoliapeak needs you there."

‎

YOU PESTS WERE GIFTED FREE MINDS, BUT NO...
IT WAS NEVER ENOUGH

​

 

[rowanpaw]

☆ Rowanpaw has just picked out a piece of freshkill when she hears her name shouted from a short distance away, and then again as Echokit comes tumbling towards her. Immediately worried, she rushes past him towards the medicine den, arriving to find a terrible mess. Magnoliapeak is holding back a sobbing Hazykit, and she just catches Falsekit's words. She quickly puts herself between Hazykit and the trio, her siblings– her responsibility, after she'd– and throws a pitying look towards Hazykit. She understands her well enough. Her mother is sick, and for all Rowanpaw's trying, there's not much she can do. Hazykit is scared, and she isn't old enough to know what to do with it. But her punishment could come later, hopefully at someone else's paws. Rowanpaw has had enough doling out of justice for a lifetime, she thinks.

"Please," she says, now looking at @Magnoliapeak , "make sure Hazykit's not hurt. If she's bleeding badly, press some cobwebs against it, otherwise just keep her still. I have to check on Faithkit first."

Then she turns to Faithkit, keeping her body as a shield between them as she looks over Faithkit. A warm nose presses to her chest, gentle paws checking her over. It's only a couple of scratches, whatever is going on inside of her is much worse. The coughing is terrible.

"Stay close to your sister," she murmurs to @Thornkit and @FALSEKIT , "keep her steady, and try to take very deep breaths. Slow and deep. You're alright now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She turns away for a moment, trusting Magnoliapeak to keep Hazykit under control, and goes to fetch a juniper berry, which she gives to @Faithkit, "eat this, Faith. It'll help with the coughing."

☆ ROWANPAW. 17 moons
mentored by serpentberry,
adopted daughter of serpentberry and thornstar
peaceful powerplay allowed
ooc -