LEMON SCENTED ✧ — o, intro

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  • . YOU HAVE TO BE CAREFUL CITRUSKIT, common words upon a worried tongue, her mother whispering in the seclusion of the nursery; you know your brother can't tolerate much. expelled from the womb too soon, that's what cypressfall was told, an early labor that should've ended with them buried beneath the dirt. and yet, and yet. she welcomed five kits on a warm afternoon, comforted by her wife, expelling soft sighs and purrs reserved for them only. until one kept wheezing, tears rimming green eyes, never quite matching his sibling's boundless energy. where citruskit would fight, the tom-kit would scream in pain as claws latch onto him: he's too weak, you have to be gentle. as suns passed, all the attention focused on the ill child, the other children left to simply watch from afar. citrus remembers his funeral, feathers scattered about his resting place, cypressfall burying her face into her mate's shoulder; remembers how still the air was, how cypress died a moon later from post-birth complications and lavenderpetal held her grief, remembers promising herself to be strong for her remaining mother. spitting image, citrus isn't fond of any comparisons to her late mom, instead opting to praise her living one: she doesn't want to be only a memory.

    half of her life already spent in tragedy made her grow into an impulsive amalgamation of odd traits; where her dead brother couldn't roam, she sought to explore every inch and nook, unsatisfied until she saw everything to be seen. when her mentor or her mother sought to discipline her, she continued in her destructive tendencies, landing in trouble at each interval. actively she sought to distinguish herself from her siblings and cypressfall, as if assuring herself that she too breathed, that she wasn't another face in windclan's fields. she couldn't be forgotten, she refused to be mediocre.

    currently, along the shore, sand wedging between her paws, she chased after ducks in her boredom, careful to skirt the water and not plunge in. she was no riverclanner and she wasn't going to try her luck swimming. instead she would focus on terrorizing the birds and disrupting any lounging warriors on the land.

    /rushed! next post will be better lmao


  • ✧✦✧Though her younger self, as Birdkit, had faced struggles of her own when it came to family, she couldn't say that any of it had really compared to what Citruspaw had endured. Not that she could claim to know any of it in actuality. But she could understand, in a way, the things that changed one's perception and thoughts about the world. What was a father if he was never around? What was a brother if you never saw him, praying to StarClan day in and day out that they were okay? Tragedy, or struggle, was always a part of life and as she grew older she had begun to realize that everyone struggled. Everyone needed a reason to be happy, so she had been pushing herself to be that reason that others were. Her mother had found similar means of coping too. Wasn't she always smiling?

    Anyway, Birdpaw was similarly out in the territory, curiously pondering over a plant in front of her, trying to remember if it was waterleaf or blackberries given the time of the season, but the sound of a rather unhappy duck being chased and forced to take off in the air caught her attention as it flew low overhead to climb towards the clouds. Her head tipped over her shoulder to find none other than Citruspaw at the fray, chasing them off towards the heavens. "Duck-hunting, Citruspaw? Sounds tasty! Never had a duck before!" She giggled, not seriously thinking that the apprentice was attempting, but it was a nice moment of distraction.


    trad. windclan mca tags penned by hanele

  • no matter how independent you live, in some way your life connects to others - this was gorsepaw way of saying, windclan had a lot of nosy cats with too much free time. when his mother had vanished, they'd circled like keen vultures for a bite of truth. spitting image indeed, he had the same gaunt figure and match thin legs of her. he'd only been young so when their attention turned to citruspaw, and the awful situation befallen her family, he'd been childishly glad the heat was off him. itd been like an ant under a magnifier trapped by the sun.

    idly he'd been walking with birdpaw, watching citruspaw from a distance, thinking of her family situation. he cursed himself, being no better than the gossips he shamed. "you disturb one bird, it's angry family will swam. it's like a hornets nest." gorsepaw tells citruspaw with a smirk, picturing an angry goose retaliating.


  • one might describe mischa as curious; another might call her nosy. she preferred the former. a curiosity like hers might have served a feline just fine if she'd been born with any social skills. she could have been the wide eyed kitten, just wanting to know anything about anyone. but she hadn't been; she was awkward, and she came across as so very blunt when she spoke. she didn't ever want to come across as impolite, but she couldn't help it.

    "ducks can be mean," she muses blandly as she approaches, stopping beside her sister. in the old territories, bloodclan had some ducks in the park; she'd never forget one trying to chomp on her tail with its strange bill.


    and there's no other way to see it

    tags. | penned by vacuous.