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Post by Dusk on Feb 24, 2013 9:38:15 GMT -5
Today was feeling rather like one of those rare good days; one of those where it felt as though nothing could possibly go wrong. Nothing in the least. Perhaps it was the arrival of the spring, fresh and vibrant. A sign of rebirth and renewal. An end of lean times. Spring marked a restoration of the land as it began to rebuild from the damage done by a harsh winter, something like a clean slate for the earth. Maybe it was the clans’ recent settlement on their new respective territories – a surprisingly clean division with limited arguing all things considered. Of course, attempted invasions would no doubt come later as the weather turned foul once more, but that was far off. For now, things could appear only positive. Then again, the tom’s newfound paternity might have something to do with why the world currently seemed to be so vibrant and light.
Two toms, strong and healthy kits in spite of the journey their mother had carried them through. The thought of the little lives brought a warm smile to Duneshade’s face, hidden beneath the mound of gray fur clenched in his jaws. No one had explicitly directed the warrior to go hunting, but then things were still disorganized in the Shoreclan camp. No deputy – again – and now a dearth of healers as well, it was nigh on impossible to imagine the burden Havocstar must have been bearing right now. They all had to take their own initiative and contribute. As far as Duneshade was concerned, that meant assuring the queens were fed; one queen in particular.
He slipped into the camp, a sable shadow creeping along the edges of the sandy hovel that provided shelter from the worst of the lake winds. There. The nursery. He padded to the edge of the den, stopping just outside to put down the hare and ease the strain on his neck. ”Splashmist? Are you awake?” he mewed quietly, crouching to peer into the sheltered dark of the den. He didn’t want to risk waking the kits or their mother were they resting. ”I brought you some fresh-kill.”
;;reply at your leisure, just felt like getting this up |
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Post by Dawn on Feb 25, 2013 12:14:47 GMT -5
"Are you awake?" Before the query could be answered by the green eyed female, a small bundle leaped forward, pawing at Duneshade's shoulders as it leaped to its full extent. "I'm awake! I'm awake!", Mottledkit squealed. "Dad, dad, dad! What happens when we sleep? Why does mom sleep so much? Hey, dad, where did you go? Where'd you get that? How come you don't just stay here in the nursery with us all the time? I want to sleep in the warrior's den with you!" There was hardly enough breath in his little lungs to ask all of the questions he had. He looked up eagerly at Duneshade with soft, pale amber eyes, only just turned from blue to their true color, his feathery kitten fur bunched all around his face. "Dad! Will you take me out hunting later?" The little scrap of fluff dropped into a terribly clumsy hunter's crouch. He growled and snapped at his father's tail, stalking 'round and 'round the tom-cat eagerly. Just as he was about to start another round of questions, the placid faced queen shushed him, serenely brushing a gray tail tip over his maw. She ignored her son as he headbutted her foreleg, placing a paw firmly on his back and holding him down as he continued to struggle ferociously.
"Yes, I'm awake, and I suppose so is every other living soul in the camp, now," she mewed, voice tired but warm with a bit of fondness for her over-curious tom-kit. Scorchkit, a small, dusk tabby, appeared to be asleep still, despite his brother's raucous flow of non-stop questions. Good, at least one of us gets to sleep. She leaned very close to her mate, wide green eyes glowing as she touched her nose to his. The love was very clear in her actions, despite her faux exasperation. Splashmist dropped her voice low. "He gets this from your side, doesn't he?" She couldn't imagine it was the Hollowclan blood in him; neither of her kits looked much like her as far as coloring, but it was very clear that the two toms belonged to she and Duneshade. The shoreclan was all there. Mottledkit pushed hard against the gray tabby's paw, overhearing. "What do I get? What is it? Can I have it right now? Pleaaaaaaaaase? Whose side d'you mean, anyway? Do I have it already?" He paused only a moment before demanding again, "What is it?" He wriggled at last out from under Splashmist's paw.
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Post by Dusk on Mar 3, 2013 10:21:57 GMT -5
The tom met his mate's eyes with an innocent grin as he crouched beneath Mottledkit's soft-pawed blows. It wasn't exactly the welcome back he'd been expecting upon entering the den, but then, he wasn't quite used to the nuances of fatherhood. Kit habits still took him by surprise. "Hey, hey, I can only answer so many questions at once." Duneshade replied, a chuckle rumbling from his chest. The dark-furred warrior dropped easily to the floor, reclining beside his kin. "Dear Starclan, you and Scorchkit are both growing fast." Had he grown so quickly? It was impossible to say. Shifting slightly, he turned his attention towards the mother of the kitten duo, offering her a glance of mock relief as she restrained (or at least tried to restrain) the rambunctious kit.
"It's a wonder you haven't lost all your fur, managing these two," Duneshade mewed warmly. "Goodness knows I would have." He gave the gray and black kit a fond nudge, wondering silently at the young cat's energy. It certainly was a Shoreclan sort of trait, wasn't it? That's what the moorland warriors were known for after all; all energy and constant motion. Even so, he gave his mate a mock glare. "Oh, yes, I'm sure all the forest-raised kits on your half are quite manageable and serious. They're never this much trouble," he purred as he spoke, fur rippling along his shoulders when he gave a short shrug before adding, "What can I tell you? It must be all the wind getting to us."
The warrior looked over at his son again. He lowered his head level to his kit's, meeting Mottledkit's eyes before he spoke with a serious tone tinging his speech. "What you get is something very special. And you always have it, even if you don't see it." Duneshade hesitated. They hadn't really discussed telling the kits about their dual-heritage - that was a conversation for a later date. He changed tact. "There's something else you get that you can see, though." He jerked his chin towards the entrance of the nursery, where the body of the hare he'd caught still rested. The sable-furred tom gave a a tired sigh "Catching that hare sure wore me out. I wish I had a tough, strong warrior to help bring it inside."
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Post by Dawn on Mar 28, 2013 12:58:12 GMT -5
Mottledkit pouted at his parents, crouching now close to the mates, loosed from Splashmist's grasp. "We're growing?" Mottledkit queried, and studied his little body, looking every which way that he could, until he tumbled over on his back from trying to get a good look. "I don't see it." Splashmist snorted, pulling her son to her and giving him a rough lick, which he shook off in favor of pummeling his father some more. "You know, I wouldn't mind taking a turn hunting while you watch them, Duneshade," Splashmist mewed, the last word, his name, musical as she glared playfully at him. "If you want to lose a bit of fur in preparation for greenleaf." Even with her false (or, mostly false) annoyance, she couldn't help but feel optimistic at the thought of greenleaf, a season of good hunting and sunshine. She wasn't as enthusiastic to start hunting on the moorland, though, without any cover from predators that could carry her thin body away.
The tabby smirked at her mate, "Yes, we forest cats would never behave so exuberantly! From their very birth, Hollowclan kits are too busy plotting how to kill the deputy and become clan leader to bustle about like this." At these words, Mottledkit's eyes grew huge, and he stopped attacking Duneshade's tail for half a beat. Splashmist spared him a glance. "Don't get any ideas." The kit was distracted, though, by the older tom's remark about the wind. "Hey, dad!? Do you think if the wind was strong enough I could... fly? Or what if I held some bird wings in my mouth and you tossed me up?" The plan sounded ludicrous, but the kit was clearly giving it deep thought, his voice serious. "WOULD I BE ABLE TO FLY!?" His excitement got the better of him and he tried to leap into the air, making about an inch from the ground, if that, with his tiny legs.
As Duneshade looked into Mottledkit's eyes, the kit tried to shrug him off. "Is it wings?" he questioned eagerly, pawing at his father's muzzle lightly. "Are they invisible?" At his remarks about bringing the hare inside, though, Mottledkit jumped to his feet and raced to the hare. "I'm a big strong warrior! I'll do it! I'll bring it all by myself!" Mottledkit tried to push the body of the hare with his own, and succeeded in lifting one haunch, only for the hind end of the creature to crush him beneath it. The kit gave a little yelp of fear. "Dad! It's still alive! Daaaaad!"
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