Posts by ( BUCOLICKIT )

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Long, thick lashes trembled delicately over amber optics as they glazed with salty wetness, blurring once sharp vision and stabbing panic into a youthful heart. He knew not where he was and knew not where he was headed but he knew where he had come from, and whilst his purposes were nonexistent his only mindset was on food, food and water and a warm place to sleep. This was a foreign place when compared with the world of a cosy human town on the outskirts of a busy human city, a place where the people had no time for each other but all the time for felines like he. And as a kitten with a street smart family but a book smart head, he knew where to go for safety.


    Now though it looked as if stray dogs weren't his problem and neither were rowdy teenagers; the young grimalkin shook somewhat, like a leaf, as he ducked low between two building and through an alley, hearing not domesticated canines but rather much bigger, much more dangerous beasts. From once city to another, the world had changed drastically, and where there had once been humans there were lonely food packets tumbling over his momentarily stationary paws. The entire setting of this place held an eerie ambience, and already his fur was standing on end as he moved deeper into the city.


    But now he could smell the telltale signs of an inhabited land, but the signs were animalistic rather than human and automatically the kitten started up in his quivering once more. Would he cry out? The sound could alert danger and he wished to stay alive so Bucko crouched low to the ground once more, his ears flattened to his skull as he awaited whatever it was he could hear and smell.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]The deer was rather large, similar to humans in height but not in length, weight, strength and looks -- it was foreign to him, causing him to shake even more violently, his eyes widening in terror. One stamp and it would surely kill him, Bucko knew, so he tensed up, ready to bolt, but then a voice stilled him and he tilted his cranium to listen with large auditories. Name and business, it called, name and business. His gaze scanned the deer and then it landed upon a small bearded dragon perched upon its head, and slowly the black kitten straightened up, parting his dark lips to speak.


    "My name is Bucko, I-I was looking for a place to stay." only one stutter left his jaws, impressive, and the ebony child gave a small smile. "C-can I stay h-here?" yet it was worsening, and the grimalkin shivered in response to how puny he sounded, as if his verbal and physical impressions were corresponding, working with each other to make him seem small and weak. The ex-kittypet then blinked, then, taking a step back instinctively.


    "A-are you... One of th-those clans?" the big ones that fought amongst each other in bloody battles? Bucko felt horror grip him, but then he realised he couldn't just run, there was nowhere to run to. If he did end up joining this clan, he'd have some problems... His name, for one, was awful, he'd have to change it to avoid ridicule. Maybe... Keep it as a nickname. His globes lit up somewhat then, optimism taking him, and he shuffled his paws hopefully to keep feeling in his frozen toes.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Bucko smiled faintly as Hermionepaw approached, though he did jump slightly and half-arch his back, though no retractiles slid from his paws; he'd been declawed a month earlier, thus limiting his fighting, hunting and climbing skills. He did quickly relax however, blinking at her slowly. "N-nice to meet you, Herm-mione. I... C-could I change m-my name?" he'd heard of the clans, and how they had a naming system- 'kit' indicated an infant, 'paw' an apprentice, anything else indicated a warrior or deputy and 'star', especially in proclans, indicated a leader.


    The only problem was, he needed a somewhat suitable name for somebody who's birthname was 'Bucko'. He sat and thought for a moment about the world, about his preferences, and then- "B-Bucolic, nice word. B-Bucolickit w-would be a ni-ice name,"

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]"It's where we live, and make our home." Bucolickit murmured gently as he approached, peeking from beneath his flower crown at the larger puppy. He had never seen a friendly hound before, they had all been vicious and wild with hunger, but this one, capable of feline speech, seemed far nicer. The black kitten blinked at Forrest sheepishly, then. "The anti-clans aren't nice people, I don't think, the old Forrest Gump must've been..." he trailed off then, not wanting to offend the wolf.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Bucolickit didn't like the idea of a massive crowd, but the kitten smiled tentatively and padded over anyway. The grimalkin flicked his ears back and tilted his cranium curiously, listening to the conversation. "Hi, I-I'm Bucolickit." the ebon male introduced in a polite, quiet voice, not wanting to disrupt and inwardly praying the human scent had rubbed away and been replaced by SkyClan.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Bucolickit is an ex housekitten with a love of flower crowns and peace; he's nervous and book smart but not street smart, and tentative to hop into things, but will always be there. He has no claws, being declawed when a pet, and therefore can't attack anything with those, making him pretty weak as a cat's main attack is a swipe.


    open to.
    - friends
    - enemies
    - bullies
    - possible short term love [hint: he's gay]
    - adoptive family [all relations open]
    - future mentor [he's five months old]
    - most things


    maybe open to.
    - long term love


    closed to.
    - rape
    - death
    - capture


    that's it!

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]"O-oh dear, are you ok? That must've been terrible, oh dear." the slightly older kitten fussed, padding over and watching with nervous eyes as Marina recovered from the can incident. He had not expected to see this in SkyClan, and partially wondered if they had healers, and if they did, if they were any good. If anybody got injured like this, they'd need all the doctors they could get.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Bucko's ears and cheeks heated up as he addressed, and he glanced down at the bow tie with wide eyes. Oh, he'd been recognised? The ebony kitten picked it up awkwardly with a clawless paw, studying it, and for a moment, his expression was nonexistent; then he broke into a grateful smile, and his eyes closed as he purred a thanks. "Oh, it's b-beautiful, thank you!"

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]"Hi, Marcus," Bucolickit licked his lips and lifted a paw, rotating his wrist in a wave. "A-and hello, Sym, you have a nice name too." warrior, then, judging by his limited knowledge. On the other hand, the cougar was an apprentice, it seemed. "And thank you, too, I can't remember w-what the word means, though... Nana Hope told it me, once."

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]The bow tie kindly donated to him by Sym and the flower crown he'd recently weaved were both donned, and Bucolickit was fiddling with more flowers, using his teeth rather than his paws to weave the stems together, his lack of retractiles seemingly in affecting the kitten, whom had worked without them for a month now. He was no longer fazed by a lack of claws, accepting his weakness and inability to climb with surprising resignation, and he had simply learned to cope. Flower crown making had been a hobby struck up immediately after his declawing, and now several finished ones of every colour were laid beside him; the one he was halfway through was a pale pink, and very nice, though a little unfinished.


    Completely unaware of the world around him, the little grimalkin gnawed a hole in a stem, awkwardly feeding another through it and clenching the gap.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Bucolickit approached somewhat hesitantly, his eyes flicking up at Tundra fearfully every so often as he stumbled over, declawed paws kneading the ground with urgent anxiety as he slowly and tentatively took a seat. "H-hello," the ebony male greeted, eyes wandering over the leviathan polar bear for a moment before his gaze slid to Larissa, [b]"I'm Bucolickit."

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Hid in the shadows of a large building was Bucolickit, his eyes stretched wide and curious as he watched Exquisitesymmetry and the rather large Tundra face the feline at the border.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]Oh god, oh god, it was huge. Bucolickit squeaked and hopped back, tumbling head over heels and landing in a heap on his stomach a few metres away, clawless paws scrabbling uselessly at the floor in an attempt to still his falling, eyes wide with shock. He had not expected to be disturbed, no less by a massive creature as this, though its voice suggested youth, and youth suggested friendliness. Nonetheless, she was massive, and the shy kitten couldn't help but feel terrified. Eventually though, the little gentleman sat up and shuffled slightly closer, clearing his throat.


    "O-oh, um, sorry, I-I didn't see you there. Hi, I-I'm Bucolick-kit... Nice to mee-eet you." his stuttering grew progressively worse, ears sliding back and heating up in embarrassment.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px;][justify][size=8]"A-ants are really small... They m-must thing we're huge, and be v-very scared in case we s-step on them." Bucolickit knew the fear of being stepped on, the first person to approach his meet and greet being a giraffe and the first person to approach him at his joining riding on a deer. Mm, he was used to the feeling of anticipating being squished, and he imagined ants must feel terrible constantly, fear nagging at them. [b]"H-hi, I'm Bucolickit. How's everyone?"