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[fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:8pt; text-align:justify; line-height:125%; width:350px; margin-top: -5px;]//tracking and Lark's favorite holiday ever, omg
Posts by LarkKit,
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[fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:8pt; text-align:justify; line-height:125%; width:350px; margin-top: -5px;]Six moons old, it was soooooooo close! Just a few more days until the little boy was able to become an apprentice and train with Brother Dean to become a full warrior for the clan! He was so excited, but there was one last thing that he wanted to do during his kithood. "Brother Dean!" he would chirp, and go on about how he wanted to explore as a kit, but not in camp. He had only snuck out once, and no more after that. Ms. Lark's story of evil Skittles really kept him in, but he was only a few days until six moons, maybe the purple Skittles wouldn't go after him! Convincing Brother Dean was difficult, though, and the tabby even offered a game to keep him in, but he didn't want that right now. Humph! He could go on his own!It was when Brother Dean wasn't looking that the blonde kit squeezed through the entrance of camp, guarded by a zoned out Bearpaw, and off into the territory. It certainly wasn't as stormswept as it used to be anymore from Mr. Epsi's terriabke rage that he had been told about, but a big tree trunk blocked out his path, and unable to scramble over it, the little box took a different direction, followed by sounds of buzzing and banging. What was that? Was it the Skittles? No, they would t dare mess with him! He was Mr. Birchstar, leader of the great KitClan! It would only be a few rises and falls of the big, yellow ball of moss in the sky until he would combine forces with his strongest ally and form Apprenticeclan!
But the strange noises drew him closer until the trees and bushes thinned out, a good distance outside of StormClan's territory. Strange, twoleg monsters were grabbing bites out of the earth! The kitten had never seen anything like that in his whole lifetime! While terrifying, the boy was equally fascinated by the creatures, and spent a great deal of time in the frontmost bush, peeking his small head through, watching. Large twolegs climbed into each of the monsters while other large ones yelled from distances, and small twoleg kits ran around, climbing up piles of dirt while what looked like their Mama's called them back crossly.
It looked like fun, maybe he could climb! Without much thought, the blinds kitten blinked his wide, green eyes, flapped the stubs of wings that he was starting to grow, and hopped out of the bush, bouncing up to one of the big piles of dirt with a happy squeal.
His newfound joy didn't last long when hot breath met his heels, and a thick, hot liquid dripped down onto his back. Skidding to a stop, the boy sat for a second, dazed, and looked up to see a massive dog staring down at him. "Mr. Dog, sir! Do you wanna play with me, sir?" but it didn't look like the creature understood, but instead, it's head snapped down, sinking its huge, ivory canines into his shoulder with a sickening crunch. Pain laced through his whole body, and red formed at the corners of the kitten's vision. Ssunde side to side with an intense force, tears formed in the boy's eyes and a screech escaped his maw as small, weak paws scrambled to get free, but to no avail. Harder and harde tthe pressure got until he felt himself weightless and flying through the the air, head banging into the metal of the giant, eartheating monster. Hardly who to see, the boy tried to scramble to his paws, but before he could even say "Mama Fawn," heavy paws landed on the kitten's back, and sharp teeth sunk into his shoulder once again, and finally, the words "M-MAMA FAWN!" sounded in his throat, until a repositioning bite from the Black and Tan dog landed onto his little neck, followed by another bloodcurdling scream.
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And it was rare for the tortie to even show her face now, but the only reason that she took the time to now was news. The little boy wasn't in the nursery, and his scent led out of camp. Goshdarnit, Bearpaw! When she got back from searching, she would have to give the apprentice a proper telling out. With no attempt to hide it, LarkBeat found it rather easy to trace Birchkit's scent, even with her failing memories, and it took around half an hour to fourty five minutes to reach the same construction site that the kitten boy was at, and it was hard to hear over the heels, buzzes, and yelling of the twolegs, bit Birchkit's call for Fawnpelt, or whatever it was that she called herself now, reached her. It was only a little too late for her as when the tortie burst out through the bushes, Birchkit was taking a last few squirms for freedom, with drooling, slavering jaws wrapped around his little throat, but him movements grew slower and slower until they came to a standstill completely, and a cry of angush set in her throat.
Fueled by nothing but adrenaline, the girl raced out and let the dog, swiping a sheathed paw across its muzzle, not doing much at all, but she didn't care. By all the sudden screams made by both her and the little boy, a few twoleg kits came close, drawn in by curiosity, only to be sent back shrieking to their parents when they saw Birchkit's lifeless form in the dogs iron jaws.
Blood streaked the boy's usual pale and clean fur, staining him mainly red. Bright, green eyes, once happy and full of life, were dull and lifeless, and even his head dipped back at a wrong, backwards angle. Multiple holes pierced him, mainly through his whole body, from where the canine had sunk its teeth into his firm, which, for a dog that size, was no bigger than a housefly to a horsefly, in which crimson still oozed.
Nothing could come from her maw as Larkstar froze, too stunned to move, and an adult twoleg grasped the dog's collar, dragging its sorry, barking ass out of the scene. Another one came closer and put a strange bag around the boy's lifeless body, and picked him up.
A fury raced up in her at that action, for they couldn't take him! No! It was no use taking Birch to the vet, but leaving his body would be horrible. Apparently, Leaving the tortie behind would be horrible too, because behind her, a strange hoop grasped her neck, and the girl was pulled backwards, clawless paws scrambling helplessly at the ground in an attempt to free herself. "N-no!" she screeched, but lifted off the ground by the hoop on a pole, the girl was grasped by the scruff and thrown into a small cage, even more claustrophobic than licking fleas off of Garfield. Hisses, screams, and curses could be heard as she wa thrown into the belly of a monster and driven away, but left behind, still, was the blind kitten's body with a few twolegs off searching for shovels to dig a grave, while another watched over the kit's dead body.
//and the two of us have discussed this, and Kendall will be stepping up as leader of Stormclan with Castiel, so there is no confusion on who the successor will be. C;