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Post by blackshade on Mar 23, 2006 18:11:44 GMT -5
The soft morning wind blew faintly as Blackkit woke up. She stretched luxuriously, as she padded sleepily out of the nursery. There were no other kits around to play with, so she looked around for something to pass the time. A leaf fluttered down and landed on the ground infront of her. "Well, this will have to do I suppose." She thought to herself, and started to bat the leaf with an outstretched paw. But the leaf soon became boring, so she shifted her gaze to the nursery, to see if her mother was awake yet. "How long does she have to sleep! She knows I get bored without anyone to play with!" With that she started towards the nursery, planning to wake up her mother before any more of the day was wasted.
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Post by The Everlasting SUNNEH. on Apr 9, 2006 18:00:11 GMT -5
Rosebush padded into the Nursery.
"Hello little kit She said calmly, her eyes gleaming with happiness. She loved kits, and planned on having ehr own one day.
((nothing else really to say to a kit))
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Post by Flintpelt [Spideh] on Apr 10, 2006 0:00:56 GMT -5
((Please make your post longer. Though there isn't much to say to a kit, you could describe quite a bit more.))
Inside the warrior's den, the stuffy heat made it quite hard to stay awake. The only relent from the endless wave of warmth coming from many packed bodies would be a faint breath of wind blowing in from the moor. It would have started out as a gusty push, of course, but dwindled as it travelled over the grasslands, poked through the thorny brambles of the Windclan entrance and whirled round the camp a few times. However, there was one cat who could not stay asleep. She tossed and turned, her ivory pelt gleaming in the faint shafts of sunlight poking through small holes in the safe structure of the den. Silver blue-tipped paws batted away at the air feebly, their white-ended toes dragging in the earth. One of them, only a stump from an old wound, lay quite still, for whenever the she-cat did move it, she winced in pain. Ripped ear flicked as she continued pushing the air away from herself, or at least trying to, obviously traped in a bad dream, a nightmare. Faint whimpers escaped her maw, and she hunched over on herself, head between shoulders as if she wanted to protect it from unseen blows. Suddenly, her eyes shot open. They darted about madly, shining with fear, a bemused expression on the feline's gaunt and haggard face. Her breath came in short, quick gasps, and muscles were tensed as head whirled about, taking in all around her with a slightly confused look. She halted for a moment, mulling these facts in her head, and then came up with the answer that she had come out of a dream and was now in the real world. Her terrorised expression turned into a more morose one, as if she was unhappy about being back there, in real life. What a strange feline she was. Her name was Owlface. She'd come to Windclan at the age of 40 moons, and had spent 3 more moons in captivity, as a prisoner. She had been a rogue, after all. Her name was unknown to all, even herself. She couldn't remember most of her past. only a few details here and there, like the face of a gray tom sneering over her, and the feeling of claws inside her fur. But that was all, mostly. Hardly anything more. Resting her head on her paws, relieved to be there even though she was not quite content, she closed her eyes and tried to think about what she'd just dreamed. She always did this, just to see if she could remember, and also to see if she could make sense of it all. She was running, running through the trees, moon shining, dew, dew on the leaves, crashing behind her, shadowed tormentor... Her head came back up again, gray eyes blinking fiercely, desperately trying to push away this strangely rhyming memory, so clear and yet so clouded, like her blinded eye. With a sigh only desperation can create, she hefted herself to her tired paws. At least she'd slept a bit more that night. It was getting to be a difficult feat these days. Legs began moving, falling into the comforting rythme she always took, long strides reaching, catching, pulling the ground towards her. Neck bent forwards in that weak and submissive way she had, tail dragging along behind her in a cloud of faint dust. Maybe if she talked to someone, her heart would calm down. She had always loved talking. It helped her get things out, clear her mind, and tell her opinion about things that some didn't even understand. Seeing that at least two cats were up and about, she swiftly padded over to them, noting that Black-kit, a relatively new addition to the Clan, was there, as well as Rosebush, a kind and motherly spirit. Setting what she hoped was a happy smile on her features, female stepped forwards, the greeting already escaping her throat. "H'llo there! How're you doin' on dis fine morn?"
((She's got an accent xP))
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