days in the east - open, injury/rose thorns

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    Honeykit loved flowers. When she was not lounging lazily around the camp, she was rolling in beds of flowers - the evidence was clear by her unkept ivory pelt that often harboured petals and little daisies in the tangles on her alabaster underbelly. A rose bush had caught her attention, and with her kitten-like innocence and naivety, the sharp thorns had not even crossed her mind. The young daughter of the deputy purred softly as she lifted her head to take in a deep breath of a single red rose, it’s pleasant aroma filled her small body and she let out a content sigh.


    Honeykit leaned against the bush to rub her body against it, in an effort to pick up some of the scent that she loved so much. However, in a sudden crack of breaking stems, the young daughter of the deputy went flailing straight in to the rose bush. “Ow. Ow.” She squeaked as she crawled out the bush, grimacing in pain as she shot the plant a disgusted look at the betrayal.


    She looked down at her rump to see three thorns in-lodged in her soft skin, just near the base of her tail. Honeykit attempted to contort her body to try and snag the thorns out, but she couldn’t quite reach and let out a frustrated growl.


    [ tags ] -- Dovethroat's ears, though some parts of her hearing may have been fading, were always attuned to the sounds of a child in trouble. As soon as Honeykit's painful cries reached her, the silky white molly was off and running. She reached the kitten in no time, seeing it was Heronswoop's daughter. "Oh no, I see we've tangled with the wrong bush!" she purred softly, trying to calm the clearly frustrated kitten. "Sometimes the thorns fight back, hm? Don't you worry, I'm sure Autumncub Martell. will be able to help you with those. You'll be feeling better in no time."


    She probably could have removed the thorns and treated the wounds herself, but she didn't want to step on any toes. And anyway, this young one was the deputy's child, it wasn't her place to be offering medical advice. "Do you like flowers, little one?" Dovethroat herself was partial to lilac, it was her favorite flower, but it wasn't often found around here. She used to make trips to the edge of the city when she'd lived there, to Twoleg suburbia where lilacs were draped carelessly across fence posts and the scent covered the sharp tang of Twoleg sweat. It had been lovely, and it reminded her of home even if she held no fondness for home.


    i hope my love was someone else's solid ground

    Hearing the cries of a kit, Heronswoop had rushed over to investigate. Her concern only grew when she realised the kit who had cried out was her own daughter, Honeykit. She would give Dovethroat an appreciative nod as she passed, grateful for the others' attempt to keep her calm. "Honeykit?" She mewed, padding over to her daughter and bringing her close to her body. As she looked down she could see the rose thorns stuck into her body. "What happened here, my love?"

    Kits seemed to love getting themselves hurt, and a realisation clicked in his mind about why his mother had been so aggressive when Wheatkit had gone missing, why she'd been so insistent when Juniperthorn himself had tried to sneak out of camp as a kit. He was sure if he had kits (someday- wasn't that a scary thought?) he'd be worried to death about them not just because of the cruelty of the world and the general penchant of children to get hurt, but because of the visions he knew his mind would show him. Would he become a hover parent, always watching over them? Would his kits become closed off, bitter and resentful because of how overprotective he'd be?


    Why did he even think that he might have a family one day? He was too venomous, too repulsive. He'd never be a dad, let alone a good one, no matter how much Arcticwind seemed to be interested in him. "That's quite an impressive feat. I've never seen thorns lodged there before," he joked, trying to lift the kid's spirits at least a little.

    Admiring flowers was something Lavenderstar had done often... she loved them- which she supposed was a bit ironic considering she had been named after one. But she hadn't always been into the beautiful plants, a dear friend of hers named Comet had gotten her into them when she was a loner. He even had been kind enough to teach them some of their meanings... though a lot of flowers had multiple ones- or ones that were up for debate, so to this day even after knowing them Lavenderstar was still confused when it came to picking out which flowers to give to whom.

    Roses had already been too cliche to Lavender (the red ones, at least), they were probably one of her more least favorite flowers just because of it... the red ones represented love which practically everyone knew. She enjoyed giving Butterflydawn tulips whenever she could find them, they could symbolism a "deceleration for love", though Lavenderstar had already declared her love for the tom hundred and hundreds of times she didn't see a reason on why she couldn't continue to silently do so.


    Padding over to the scene, her protective gaze almost immediately spot the thorns that Honeykit had managed to somehow get on her rear. A small chuckle of amusement escaped her, her children had gotten thorns all the time and though it had taken her about five litters to realize if they got one it wasn't the end of the world. They just hurt, but usually Brookfur when she had watched removed them without much effort.


    She couldn't believe the gray medicine cat was gone... what the hell.

    "Yeah, I wouldn't worry. Teddy will be able to get them out without a problem." She tells the child with a small nod.

    Honeykit turned her attention away from the thorns, and to the first that had heard her painful cries. Dovethroat was white, like her. With odd eyes, just like her. For that reason, Honeykit warmed to her instantly - and through the grimace, her lips began to form a smile up at her. “I love flowers.” The small kit with a messy, unkept pelt stated. “But not that one.” Her mismatched gaze flickered over to the roses with a scowl.


    When her mother arrived, Honeykit felt a sense of ease come over her. The same with her grandmother, Lavenderstar. “Oh . . . I just fell. In to that bush.” She spoke, a little embarrassed with her confession as she gestured with her thick tail towards the roses. Her gaze then turned to Juniperthorn, and her lips twitched upwards in to a crooked little grin. Although her butt was stinging, and her cheeks were pink with shame, Honeykit was child with a sense of humour. “Thank you,” She giggled proudly, sticking out her fluffy chest and wiggling her rump to show off the small little thorns piercing her skin.


    “I hope so, grandma Lavenderstar.” Honeykit looked up at the clans leader with her blue and green gaze. She truly hoped she wouldn’t be stuck with those things in her rump for much longer.