★★★ applekit swiped a careful tongue over her mitt, flattening any stray hair that may have hung off of her now smooth and shining coat. It was woven of wheat and gold, splotched and framed by darker orange stripes that snaked around her form like vines on a tree. it was beautiful. applekit was well aware. someone had once told her she was all too aware. but really, is it such a crime to love yourself?
she neatly tucked a wispy tail of silken fur, that was a little too clean for a kitten over her paws. applekit had watched the other kids outside. bumbling children who would fall in the grass and mud, dirtying their already tangled and wild pelts. tch. applekit knew better than that.
she did want to play a game though. as lovely as she was, the girl was but a child, and couldn’t keep herself company for the rest of her kithood. she had to.. play with other kits. and while she was mildly put off by the idea that one might trample into the nursery with muddy paws and wild eyes, she knew it was a necessary risk to take.
“does anyone want to play a game with me? i’m making my own clan and if you hurry I’ll maybe maybe maybe let you be deputy if you like” she called out to the camp, slipping out of the nursery. her frame was bulky and muscular, and though she was but a child the genetics of a maine coon showed through her long-furred coat of gold. sitting down in a bed of grass, applekit’s ear twitched and she blinked her dusky green eyes slowly, waiting for anyone to join her.
Diamondpaw was an apprentice already, but she was a kit inside. She liked watching the kits. As she didn't know, her mother was an exposition cat, and after her the molly carried a flossy, sparkling pelt. Sure, her mother looked pretty different. Diamondpaw was a snow-furred, short-furred small she-cat. Not a beautiful Maine coon.