Private Shipyard you can't help but sing along // clay

[lily ☆]

She shivers; the cold air lends itself to a chill of its own, however the young girl finds a new freeze to fear. Between her teeth clicks a yellow-orange stone, nearly transluscent, worn by the ocean's waves. She worked hard to retrieve this little treasure of the sea, however unfortunately the tide did rake at her paws. The bulk of her body is still dry, luckily, but as she trails away from the shore, she shakes her paws uselessly to try and rid them of the wet.

I'll get used to it. I'll be okay.

It's repeated in her mind as she trots further and further inland, following her path back to the rest of the shipyard cats. The sun, although high in the sky, warms her enough for her to nearly forget about her ailment. Lily peaks through the throngs of cats, all before she notices the one she was searching for.

"Hey - hi!" she squeaks around the smooth seaglass, trotting towards Clay with a grin on her face. "I - er, I heard 'bout ya. You're new here, yeah?" She's already a part of the biggest family upon the shore - with cats like Willow and Smoke and Lichen, and kits Bee, Duck, Cicada, and so many others... Oh, a piece of Lily feels jealous. A piece that sours almost immediately, and the quiet voice in her mind bites at her for thinking so ruefully. She swallows, "I'm Lily. I also... I'm also new here. Not as new - um..." she prattles on, unsure, before finally passing the seaglass to the other.

"This is for you! My Mama says that - that the ocean makes them so pretty, and gives them to the shore as a present. So - so, I wanted, y'know..." she shuffles her paws, her plumed tail folding around the anxious effort, "Well... It's for you... if you want it! Hey - wow, look at that!" Perhaps its her own nerves shaking her, pressing her to not make eye-contact with the other, but she finally does with Clay, and her own gaze shines with a revelation. "It's almost the same - your eyes! They're... like the stone. Like - Like! The ocean made it for you." You belong here. Again, that sprout of envy in her chest. She's spoken too much, she knows. She smiles still, uninhibited by the trembling sense of destiny in her chest - the fear that this all isn't meant for her.

She shivers, and sneezes, and looks away. "Sorry," she apologizes, though it fits for many reasons. "I'm cold, is all."

 

[clay]

Clay doesn't think she's a part of the family that resides here.

She has come to understand that Lichen is.. close with Smoke, and Smoke's children. Three bouncing kittens much unlike her. Ones with the light of life in their eyes. Ones who still played in the tide and sand and icy boardwalks without any care. Clay, on the other hand, sticks out like a sore thumb- her pelt is an orange and brown dot amongst a mass of gray and black and blue, and Lichen looks at her like she's a ghost. Clay didn't want to spend time with them, so she had found a spot- still within the radius of the other families, because she's sure they would lose her mind if she wasn't to be found- and holed up in it.

Clay ate with the others, the taste of fish in her mouth off-putting compared to tiny mice and milk. She didn't really play with them, so imagine her surprise when one of the other kittens did approach her. Lily is braver then most, she thinks, being able to approach her. Cobwebs still cover Clay's face and hide the wounds lain upon her by rogue's claws, and her head still aches from the entire ordeal, yet she still attempts to look at Lily all the same. She does not return pleasantries, but her eyes shift towards Lily's own. "... Yeah, you could say I'm new." Clay responds finally, swallowing against what feels like a bone dry throat.

Lily is.. from what Clay gets from her first impression, anyways, Lily is nervous. She stumbles on her words, and while Clay can't fault her for that, it is a bit.. it grates on her nerves, she thinks. "I'm Clay." She finally responds, voice quiet and ears twitching. The seaglass is what Lily wants to give her, so Clay's head tilts down to look at it. Her eyes blinked before she took the piece, leaning back on her haunches to hold it up to the light. While Lily's cadence grates on her nerves just a hint, this was.. given out of the kindness of her heart. Clay's head tilts, observing the way the sun filtered through it, glittering on the ground in front of her.

She glances towards Lily as she explains that it matches Clay's eyes. ".. It matches?" She asks, and maybe her voice isn't as tight as before. There is a sense of wonder, of warmth, that comes with it. Clay is observing the seaglass when Lily sneezes, and while her ears lay backwards, she doesn't remain there for long. "Uh.. thank you, for the seaglass, Lily." Clay speaks, "Maybe we.. maybe you should warm up. Could get sick." Clay tries to reason. She wonders quietly to herself why she doesn't feel as cold anymore, like she used to before Marsh died, but is soon forgetting about it in favor of her new companion.

"speech"

 

[lily ☆]

Lily presses her tail around her body, hiding her drying paws from the other. Clay is cautious, but the predominantly white she-cat doesn't blame her. Whatever she was running from, all those days ago, must've been terrifying. The molly doesn't think she could run that fast even if her life depended on it; her nose is much too short for anything more than a shallow breath sometimes. Her dad says it's genetics, and so she figures that the she-cat before her must have good leg-genetics in turn. They're all different, but all meant to be here. Clay is meant to be here. She...

"That's a fun name!" Lily struggles upon her own thoughts but has no issue confirming the easiness with her new friend. "Well, maybe not fun, but - well, lilies only sprout once every couple'a seasons, y'know? But clay is always around. Means you're constant - er, consistent. And... weathered! But sturdy," she speaks out of her own behind (a phrase she's heard out of the adults) but does so joyfully, hoping to imbue some sort of positivity in the monotone molly. Names are important, she decides then and there; she will remember the importance she puts within them.

"Yeah," she agrees, and should Clay not step away, she presses slightly closer on short, shuffling steps. "Your eyes are like... the sun. Kinda... Heh, in this lighting, one's a little more different than the other." She chalks it up to shadows playing their games. Her cold paws would not lift to tilt Clay's muzzle to the light, to better see if her denoted details are correct. She respects the unspoken boundary even if she's already trampled it. "It's no problem, Clay. I jus' wanted to give you something to help you... settle in, I guess. Like the ocean to the shore, I gave a gift... to you!" Oh, she's getting really good at metaphors, she thinks.

Her sneeze catches them both off guard, and she leans away, a paw rubbing at her snout as she speaks. Surprisingly, Clay makes an offer; an uncertain one, but one nonetheless. Her ears crane forward, soil-rich eyes widening slightly. "I - well," the kitten flexes her paws back into the sand underfoot, and then nods, "I can stay for a bit, if you don't mind. Papa says I have to be by his side before the sun sets, but -" she looks outwards to the horizon, to the sun still far from the ocean, "I've got time. Don't wanna get sick, after all..." she shuffles forward again, her tail lifted just above the chilled ground. "Could I sit next to you?" The moggy asks, her expression gentle even as she brims with excitement over making a new friend.

 

[clay]

She blinks at Lily as she tries to reason at Clay's name. Her ears turn and flatten against her skull- the very same thoughts she had brought up when she first arrived, like muck from the bottom of a well, were the ones that Lily was saying out loud. Clay knows better- she should have known anyone could have thought that up, that her mother wasn't so clever after all, but she doesn't speak on it. Perhaps, if she wasn't still dwelling heavy on that of her mother's death, she could have encouraged a response to Lily. She could have spoken on the fact that lilies are rare and coveted, that they are far prettier then clay or dirt or a fly or a cloud, but she doesn't manage to move her jaw, swallowing against her still-dry throat.

The other steps closer, and Clay almost shies away, bares her fangs, to give into that more feral instinct that had bubbled free from her mind the instant she saw flesh on rogue's teeth. But she is frozen solid. Lily has shown her kindness. A gift, one that she's describing her reasoning for, a painted picture for her name. Clay's paws stay rooted, her face nearly wiped of emotion as she processes this in shorter time then it takes for Lily to grow closer. Despite the urge to turn tail, to stalk into that fisherman's hut, to bunker down in the corner that she made for herself despite Lichen's offer to a nest close to them, she remains still, eyes glimmering in the sunlight cast from the waves, vision pin-pointed on Lily. ".. They're.. different?" She finally manages, voice thick with indescribable emotion.

Her head turned towards the water, as if urged to go and look, but Lily steals her attention back. "I.. um. I appreciate it." She mumbles out, vision sliding back towards the sicker half of this conversation. Her sneeze is concerning, yes. And while Clay has already offered to return to warmth, shy away from the whipping winds that buffet against the shipyard, Clay doesn't take the lead and move. Lily suggests they stay here, and while her eyes beg to stray towards the shoreline, to make clear that this isn't the warmest place to be, she doesn't move. The wondering why for that she leaves for herself later, when she cannot sleep. Clay cannot think of why this other kit has her in such a chokehold, keeping her pinned with kind words and kind gifts. Slowly does Clay sit, her paw moving to take the seaglass and tuck it against her stomach, before shifting her vision to Lily once more.

Mismatched goldens blinked. "Yes." She answers. "I don't mind." She says, almost urges, for the other to sit. Clay's fur is thicker, not dampened by that of the sea, so logically, it is the warmest place to be out here. At her flank. "Who... is your father? Your mother?" Clay says, burning curiosity getting the best of her. Even though she asks, she is no longer looking at Lily, vision cast towards the wide expanse of water, ears twitching as she listened for birds overhead.

"speech"