[nyme]

 

Originally Posted by Madelaine

Mumblekit
[ she/her - Thunderclan kit -
Purrks: none ]

With the battle going on and her sibling out fighting the young kit sat at the entrance to camp. She was going to sit right here and wait for them to return. Hopefully they would. She didn't want to be alone. Looking up at the night sky she saw the stars twinkling. She closed her eyes. Please let all of them come back safely, she thought. Her eyes opened and she looked out into the territory to continue watching. How long would this battle be. Yawning the young kit shuffled a bit before she shook her pelt. No she couldn't fall asleep right now. Mumblekit didn't want to leave her post. She was going to wait right here until her clanmates returned.

[ open to a cat not in the battle ]

HE SAID THAT IN THE END IT IS BEAUTY
THAT IS GOING TO SAVE THE WORLD

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✪ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

PEACHKIT . 1 MOON . HE/HIM . THUNDERCLAN

The clearing feels different with less cats about. It was odd, to think that they were all somewhere a thousand pawsteps away, fighting a batte right now—odd only because Peachkit couldn't really square that knowledge with the otherwise peaceful night that he was drinking in right now.

Out of his nest and out of the nursery, mind. He'd just had to see what a difference this ordeal would make and now, prowling the silent clearing on cautious feet, he's not sure how he likes it. If he likes it.

Well. Alright. That's his curiosity satisfied, so it's probably time to turn back in and settle down for the night soooo-oh! Who is that?

Peachkit fixes a stern look on another kit, further off, who looks to have hunkered down by the camp's mouth. The stub of his tail twitches in alarm. Isn't that much too dangerous to be doing? He doesn't...actually know, but it makes him grumpy so it must be bad, right? What sort of mousebrain would be out and about when the camp's missing a chunk of its warriors? The rotten little hypocrite sucks his teeth. He's got to intervene before something bad happens. Peachkit straightens up as best he can, clears his throat as authoritatively as he knows how (which is to say, not at all: he just sounds like he's dealing with a cold) , and marches right on over to where Mumblekit has patiently established herself for the night.

"Something is going to come right in and eat you if you sit there for too long, you know," he informs her, all snotty and matter-of-fact while concern prickles at his neck.