superkit doesn't have a custom title currently.
Born: 28 February 2016
Website: No Information
Played By: No Information
Custom Title: Superstitious and bossy
Joined: 7-May 17
Last Seen: Aug 16 2017, 09:39 PM
Local Time: Aug 18 2017, 05:34 AM
169 posts (1.7 per day)
( 0.97% of total forum posts )
Aug 13 2017, 06:21 PM
The medicine cat den. It was a place that Superkit didn't tend to dwell on, or in, or around -- despite her slowly growing affection for the den's main resident. She preferred not to make a nuisance of herself, although for her that meant staying out of sight, she supposed. It explained why most hadn't noticed that she'd disappeared until over a week after she had actually vanished. But, regardless, she was present now and sneaking about the medicine cat den with a mouthful of some flower she planned to leave in the unsorted pile for Patchpaw. The other didn't need to know, and though Super was a little bigger, her petite hidey-hole worked for getting in and out still. So she would just crawl in and --
-- see Squeaks. Oh. Okay. Goddammit. She had hoped not to get caught, and froze as she spotted her adopted sibling next to her. Her ears flicked forwards and she felt shame hit her as she realised how relaxed she had gotten, not to be alert with every moment. If Squeaks had been an enemy, Super could've died. Stupid, stupid.@Squeakpaw
Aug 2 2017, 09:44 AM
Flat eyes, black lies, the sensation of something crawling just underneath the skin, like ants that cannot find an escape out of her body, crawling over the same trails they had become accustomed to in the past month. She is aware of the sensation, but she cannot stop it -- it is but another flaw in an already damaged system, and she is no worse off for it. Probably. But she isn't here to lead on the ants in her skin, and despite the actions of the past month, she isn't here for forgiveness, nor for anything contrary to that. The simple fact of the matter was that the once-kitten (for really, she was of age to be an apprentice by now) was returning for reasons unknown. The obscurity of the logic was reflective of the vague pretext in which she disappeared, the mysterious and sudden absence of the constant, if quiet, ghost that wandered the clan. No, there seemed to be very little reason for the kitten to slip away suddenly, and to return just as quietly, just as suddenly.
She didn't stop by the border, her pelt lacking scent but for the river, lavender, and strong smelling herbs usually meant to cover up something. She was still gangly, still awkward in her proportions, but kitten fat had burned away entirely, leaving a lean, scrawny looking apprentice in its wake. She hesitated not, she paused not, and she moved over the border with familiarity, as old as one so young can experience. Had she missed this place? She wasn't sure. It felt detached, in a sense, far off and buzzing in the distance. She figured she did. She didn't think about it often, too busy in other senses, but she missed... quiet things. Watching Patchpaw sort herbs. 'Speaking' with Pondpaw in the silent motions of paws and body language. Crouched near the leader's den, remembering the peace of an adopted family together. She missed many things.
Some things would never come back. Her mother's laughter like the rustle of leaves in the wind, Alderpaw - branch's company, the push and pull sensation of feeling another's soul (and how was she supposed to explain that she felt it again, that somewhere in the world Alder wasn't as dead as previously thought). She missed the odd, trickling sensation of hope that had been too bright and too light for her to bear, looking towards the face of her father and not knowing the ache in her chest.
There were things she missed. But she was... back. She supposed. Here, back, but was she really herself? No, don't think about that, don't think at all. She was here, changed, a fresh splitting her lip, and old ones set deep in the fur and flesh of the little-more-than-child. Superkit -- the same name because who would change it -- returned as quietly as she had left. The black omen was back in Riverclan, and but for the change in physique, it was as though she'd never left.
Jun 27 2017, 01:33 AM
She was enjoying her day, to the fullest that she was capable of doing so. Before her sat a small fish, half-eaten by another clanmate, which at its prime would've been larger than her. As it sat now, the flesh was torn asunder and scales hung loosely from the shredded skin, a still picture of grotesque decay. Perhaps it wasn't wrong to imply that Superkit was, at her heart, a scavenger. A cuckoo bird. She took scraps from other people -- scraps of food, scraps of love, scraps of attention. She would take and take and take, but she didn't know how to give back. So when not following another person, she remained... alone. Separated from reality with the faintest of motions, she could disappear with her stillness, and thus she crouched in the shade, chewing another mouthful of fish, staring at the holes where the eyes once were.
She was invisible. She was focused on invisible.
Jun 22 2017, 01:53 AM
The name of the... thing? Herb? Medicine cat tool? The name of the item Superkit sought rung in her head time and time again. For something that theoretically could be found anywhere with spiders, it was incredibly difficult to locate a source for the elusive bandage-like material. But she had little choice. One of her eyes had begun to lightly bruise, and not-so-shallow claw marks were on her back as if someone had tried to snatch her by the scruff with their claws. And as if that someone had been considerably bigger than her. Even if she found
the cobwebs, she wasn't entirely sure how to get them back there short of rolling over like a trained mutt.
It'd been some time now that she'd been accumulating bruises and scrapes, beginning to crescendo after Alderpaw's death. Alderbranch's death. Whatever. The kitten missed her either way, but refused to reach out for anything. She was suffering because of herself, because of the wrong
, the bad in her bones, and if she listened to her mentor then... she would be fixed. Pyre would be proud of her. She could stick up for her clanmates. She could prove to her da -- to Hollowfrost
that she was worth looking for. Pondpaw would think she was a good sister. The people she cared about would love her, and they wouldn't leave her and she'd feel good instead of always feeling like her heart was decomposing a few years early. If that meant keeping secrets, then fine. If that meant having a soulbond die in front of her, then fine.
If that meant she had to pretend she couldn't still hear and see Alder, even after her death, then fine. A little pain was to be expected when you were bad. Being good wasn't easy. So after a rougher training session in the Dark Forest turned into more noticeable cuts than the easy to explain bruises and scrapes typical of kittens, she resolved to steal some cobwebs and spend the bulk of the next few days by herself in the territory. Always a good strategy.
Of course, as soon as the kitten tried to sneak in the back of the den, wheedling her way through a small hole, she also kicked over a large stack of weird flowers and began to sneeze.
Ah. Yes. Stealth.
Jun 18 2017, 11:18 PM
Usually, when she met her 'mentor' of sorts, it was in the real world. Even she
understood that what was around her was no longer real, as she stood in some mysterious forest with darkness sifting through the trees like thick fog around her. As a general rule, Superkit wasn't spiritual. She didn't know anything about Starclan except that evidently, her mother was there. She didn't know how much she believed such things, but she seemed to be somewhere that she shouldn't be. Certainly, she could not recognize the place that she was, with large, dark trees and an overall gloom about it. But she was practically a tiny shadow herself, creeping through it without a sense of fear, mostly... curiosity. Eventually, she came to a clearing and stopped for a moment, feeling as though it had called out to her for some reason.