Territory RiverClan THE ARISTOCATS [ foundlings ]

This thread takes place outside the clan's camp in its territory.
12
5
Freshkill
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() with all the chaos in camp, willowburn has been itching to get away for days now. as she pads along the river's shore, the water dapples silver in the moonlight, and she rolls her shoulders out, a deep sigh echoing from her chest. what have herself and smoke gotten themselves into? certainly the cats in the shipyard had worked together, shared prey, told stories to each other's young. but there had never been a clear leader, just like there had never been territory boundaries, or any hierarchy at all. willowburn likes the community aspect of the clan, but stars if the politics aren't annoying as hell. a yawn curls the tongue of the slender feline as they trod down to the shore, water washing over their paws until they feel grounded again. it is only as they settle down to fish a couple minnows for dinner that they hear it. a mewling, chirping sound in the reeds alerts the woman, and she is on her paws in an instant.

baby animals are almost never alone, and so she is cautious as she slinks into the tall grass, scenting the air for any predators. all she can smell is fresh river air, the musky scent of sand and mud, and... there! the unmistakable scent of twolegs. willowburn's jaw tenses, tail flitting between her legs. the mewling begins again, soft cries that fade gently into the rushing of the river. "hello?" the woman calls out, tense, wary. parting the reeds ahead of her, she spots an unnatural color. pale pink pelts line a woven nest, and inside... the feline gasps. four kittens, eyes wide and wary, tails puffed up in defense, stare out at her. the nest floats gently in the shallows of the river, protected from the current by the reeds and driftwood that close it in. "seas below," willowburn breathes, approaching with her eyes wide and head low. "hi, little ones,"

she sniffs them, and finds no smell of milk, no motherly scent indicating somecat may be looking. worry and sorrow wells within her, heartbreak for the poor little ones. stars, they look starved, hunger and fear shining in their wide eyes. "my name is willowburn. i... i come from a safe place, where there is warmth and food for you. i can take you there, if you'll let me." because these little ones look about as old as smoke's had when they'd moved to the river territory. they are capable of decision making to a certain extent. something washes over the dark tabby woman, an instinct of protectiveness, and she dips her head lower, to look as non threatening as she can. "do you have names, sweetlings?"


  • // the babies!! " #87874b"
  • WILLOWBURN
    ⏾ SHE / THEY. RIVERCLAN WARRIOR. 36 MOONS. PENNED BY LAVS.
    a lithe black smoke feline with ghost striping and leaf green eyes. long smoky fur dashed through with grey and white adorns her frame, sliced across by darker stripes that frame her face and legs. eyes like sage, brilliantly green, gaze with an intelligent look. she is scarred across the bridge of her angular nose.
 
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She presses close to the warmth of her siblings as they bob helplessly in the current, too unstable to peek over the edge and too afraid to rise upon mittened paws while everything shifts according to the moon drawn tide. Every once and awhile she tempts a soft mew. Anything to be pulled from the container which holds the mass of kittens. 'Hello?' A voice calls back in response to their mournful cries. The masked kitten lifts her chin, trembling with a myriad of crashing emotion as pawsteps near them. Wide blue eyes meet hues of leafy green and the child's kinked tail fluffs nervously.

For many moments she watches this stranger. Waits for a gnashing of teeth or gentle rasping of tongue against her delicate skin - there is no telling what may come. The stranger speaks softly, comfortingly. A longing ache blossoms in the child's belly at the other's tone and softened features. Something more than the hunger that yawns within empty belly. "Y' sure it's safe?" the pointed kitten asks quietly, her voice warbled against the wind rustled reeds. Beside her, her siblings shift and offer up their own reactions.

Willowburn carefully dips her head lower and in return the child raises herself up from the wobbling floor of the basket a little bit at a time. She asks if they have names. "Name?" The masked child murmurs, as if she doesn't understand the question. Her body trembles from fear and chill, but she remains within reach of Willowburn. The promise of warmth and food too good to give up; the look in this cat's eyes too gentle to dismiss.
 
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Her sister is glued close to her, but wide blue eyes still try their best to peer out over the edge of the thing the twoleg had put them in. It was comfortable for all of like, two minutes before she was over it and wanted to go home. She wanted Momma back. She wanted to be warm. Her nose wrinkled and she tried her best to stay quiet, to follow her instincts of conserving energy, but she couldn't help it. She, like her sister, call out every now and again for safety, for something besides the bright inside of this nest.

A voice calls out, one she can actually understand. Wide blue eyes blink at her sister, then looks up towards the face that approaches over the rim of the nest. "Hi." She says back, nose pointed up towards Willowburn. Her own fur is on end, tail fluffed up, ears forward and body ready for anything. But that wouldn't have to happen, it looks like. The stranger looked nice. Sounded nice, too- looked... warm. She spies the thick coat the older is wearing, and frowns briefly in jealousy. She swallows as Willowburn leans in, smells them, confirms what she already knows- that Momma isn't going to come back with them.

Her sister asks if it was truly safe, but her stomach growls aloud at the promise of food. Food. She was so hungry. "I really hope it is. I'm hungry. What kind of food do you have?" She speaks, pushing up on her paws to try and get closer to the edge of the nest, to pull herself out. "Names? Nuhuh." She chattered, though it was probably her teeth smacking together from how cold she was. She wanted out of this stupid nest and into a warm place with a belly of food already!

  • "speech"
  • RUMBLEKIT she/her, riverclan kit, 2 moons.
    a sh blue lynx point with bright blue eyes. she's got quite the spunk and attitude, but she's always curious and willing to learn! energetic and a pawful.
    mentored by who / mentoring who
    sibling to tba
    peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking
    penned by dallas ↛ dallasofnines on discord, feel free to dm for plots.