Beachkit
Male / About 5 Moons / RiverClan / Sexuality Unknown / Pending Purrk
Pale bluish gray tom with tufts on his ears and nose and sandy patches with bright/light gray eyes / Bewitched Purrk: Nervous Wreck
“O-Okay. I’ll swim the rivers, climb the mountains, reach the skies… yeah… but first I’ll have to learn to walk without falling on my face, I think,”
~Beachkit
TW: This character experiences frequent attacks of nervousness, panic, anxiety, and similar emotions that may be triggering to some readers.
✽❀✽
- The Nursery -
Beachkit awkwardly hung from the jaw of his new adoptive mother, his gray eyes locked on the ground beneath them. So far, the young tom-Kit still had yet to visit a meeting where something significant did not occur. As lovely as it would be to simply enjoy the life of being a RiverClan kitten, the young tom-Kit was never one to simply gloss over such a significant change. It was a miracle from his perspective how Owltalon was putting to much effort into caring for him, even being his mother in spite of the fact that he had casually abandoned his last one. Beachkit could not remember the last time he was carried gently to a destination, and in fact, his mother over in the twoleg place had not needed to carry him. The home was easy to travel around, and Beachkit never went very far anyway. The most he had ever done was stare out the window longingly lile a Disney Princess with his sister, Sorrelkit, awaiting the day they would finally agree to venture out into the wild in searches for their sister. He hated himself for leaving his family in the dust, and he wanted to love himself for ridding his mother of his presence, too, but it was nearly impossible to do both simultaneously. She had not been cruel. She had not been abusive. And most importantly, she had been a loving, caring parent, and he left her anyway. And yet he still abandoned her, and even them, Owltalon still pulled him back up onto his feet- how was that fair? He deserved the punishment, did he not? He voluntarily abandoned his family, and didn’t that mean he deserved to suffer from the abandonment? His mind fought him until he could feel hot tears bubbling up in his eyes again, screaming, She’s here out of sympathy, she’s temporary, she’s here because of pity, she’s not here to love me, she’s here to leave me, she’s stuck with me, she’s- He blinked once and took a deep breath once they reached the temporary nursery, and when it entered the young tom’s viewpoint, his ears flicked. Here it was, home, but not quite. This was only RiverClan’s evacuation home, anyways.
As painful as his sorrow was, it was far better than the panic. The sorrow was painful, sure, but it was nothing in comparison to the feeling of his mind racing, his heart thundering, and his body trembling itself into oblivion. Beachkit had not even experienced his issue with his curse yet, and even still, panic was officially his least favorite emotion. It was humiliating. It was painful. It was… loud, and too silent to be properly heard. It was annoying. But all he could do was simply endorse it until somebody like Owltalon had to suffer the misfortunate of rescuing him from it. Sorrelkit was there sometimes, but he did not want to bother her much, that would just make him a burden. So instead, he just sat and waited it out. It had never been this bad until he came into RiverClan, so the little tom-kit promised himself that things would improve for him when he moved over to RiverClan’s actual home, and when he adjusted to it. Everything and everybody was too unfamiliar at the moment… RiverClan just was not fully his home yet. But then again, the twolegplace had never felt like his home, not even with Sorrelkit by his side, so… where was his full home yet? Nowhere, really. But maybe Owltalon could change that… could she? Did she have it in her? Did she actually want to be his mother anyway, or was he correct to consider the idea that she was only loving him out of sympathy? In Owltalon’s maw, he shuddered slightly, tearing up again. By now, he was just giving up on trying to hide his tears from the Lionheart. She had seen so many of them by now, even crying up her own at one dramatic point in time- specifically during the adoption- he saw no point in covering them up. But as they neared the nursery, the little tom-kit realized that there might be a few kits and queens sticking around, so feeling his heart give a quick jolt of discomfort, the pack of his front paw sprung up to his eyes to brush away the tears. He swiped them away, and as they entered the nursery, he accidentally whimpered. As awkward as it was, he couldn’t help but make the little sound whenever he was growing more nervous than he would like to.
The scarred and brown Lionheart dipped her head and gently dropped him near the entrance, and once Beachkit was back on his feet, he shook his pelt, sending a tear droplet or two flicking off into the distance. His stormy gray eyes caught her as she lifted her own eyes from the ground, searching the moss beds for a moment in thought. The blue-gray and sandy tom-kit joined her in gazing around the den at the nests. When the she-cat’s eyes landed on him, Beachkit turned his head to stare up at her with wide, tired eyes. He decided to not mention it to her that he had been avoiding nests recently, preferring to sleep on the hard ground because he was too awkward to know who slept in which den, too worked up over the idea of laying to rest in some random queen or kitten’s bedding. Who knew where Sorrelkit slept… but he had never wanted to draw too much attention to himself looking around for it. He liked to call the dark corner that he secretly rested in the, ‘Corner of Shame’, because… well, he felt shameful about his entire existence every single time he paused to rest there. It was quite a shame, seeing as he had always been a comfortable sleeper back at the twoleg-place. Nowadays, half of his nights were spent sleeping, and the rest? Thinking, trembling, crying whenever his body would allow him, and generally just dying inside. It was miserable, and son or not, the tom-kit was pretty convinced that he would not be getting any good sleep any time soon. But that thought would easily bring up more tears, so he shut his head up with the best of his abilities, pausing to listen to Owltalon.
Owltalon brought up beds, and his heart clenched uncomfortably. She told him that if he simply located a bed that did not carry any scents then it was not currently in use, and he could claim it. Then when she told him that he would have it all to himself, his gaze swept the floor again. As awkward as that was, it sounded better than sleeping eith some random kitten and their parent, so it was alright in comparison. He nodded slowly as Owltalon gave him a quick nuzzle, and he began his search for a good, open nest. She nodded to the scatter of empty beds, and with slightly flattened ears, Beachkit slowed his pace, crouching and dipping his head to sniff at the nests and test them for the scent of RiverClan cats. During this sniff-session, with a flurry of anxiety, he realized how different he smelled from the rest of RiverClan still. He had not fully picked up their scent quite yet. So after smelling the fifth nest in a row, he took a struggled step back, concern and humiliation flooding through his gaze. Then quietly, he mumbled to Owltalon, “I… don’t smell… quite like you guys, and wh-what if… what if th-they notice? What if they n-notice I smell funny, l-like a Twoleg h-home, wh-what if… what if they…” Eventually, his voice trailed off into a stammer, and fearing more tears, Beachkit shook those thoughts from his head. Then proceeding to scurry about the nursery, he dipped his head to sniff another nest, apologizing awkwardly. “S-sorry. I dunno. It’s just… weird. I m-mean, I smell weird, not R-RiverClan, yeah- th-that’s wh-what I mean, you um… ya’ll smell… great… I suppose.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, though. Beachkit did not like or dislike the scent of RiverClan, it just gave him a feeling of his lack of belonging, as if screaming at him that he still was not one of them. The little tom-kit recoiled. “I think it um… it might be a bit of a Seabreeze thing… m-maybe. It’s like my b-brain won’t accept that I’m s-supposed to be here… until he accepts it, s-so… yeah. I… d-dunno, though.” Then with a small grunt, he finally found an empty nest, and stiffly, he headed towards it. “This seems… empty, so…” But immediately, he hopped back and withdrew a paw, as if burnt. His eyes flashed. “But I dunno, I’m n-nose is probably not the b-best yet… you… check it… um… please. Sorry.”
`~Owltalon
She, Her\Lionheart\44 moons\Riverclan
"Are you listening, starchild?"
Purrks: Agatha Kitty [ACTIVE]
- - -
NURSERY
(you know the drill, these two owl posts don't happen at the same time!)
Whilst Owltalon waited, she slunk into a sit, urging her eyes to stay open. Stars above she was tired. And for what? This was pretty exciting actually, definitely not yawn inducing, so what was the deal? She wondered when she'd last had a proper nap, how far away those times were from this. Oh, it couldn't be that bad, it probably wasn't. Who needed sleep anyways? Haha, she could hold on for a bit.
As usual, Beachkit was being Beachkit, and she watched as small droplets flung from his pelt when he gave it a good shake. At least he'd cried and let out whatever stress he was feeling. That was the good thing about having a mossbed all to their lonesome. They could cry day and night and nocat would probably notice. He also seemed to squeak just a tad as he weaved his way through mossbeds. Hm... Perhaps making him pick was stressing him out. But she trusted him enough to make good decisions. After a good sleep, she was sure he'd be feeling more upbeat and gathered, and if he didn't, Owltalon would make sure he wouldn't battle his thoughts alone. That was just a general rule in her head.
She watched as he walked slowly along rows, stopping to sniff at every one with pinned ears. Owltalon picked at the rock beneath her claws as she waited, her ears flicking to pick up any sudden sounds from her kid. She then saw him step-stumble backwards, a low murmur expressing his concern. Fitting in. It always boiled down to that, didn't it? Owltalon smiled softly as Beachkit continued to stammer, breaking up his words like pieces of meat. Owltalon knew better than to shrug off his concerns, especially since he was so genuinely anxious about it. So, she listened with perked ears to his words before gathering her own thoughts to speak.
"Aye, chap, I assure ya, no good cat is gonna 'ave yer fur for smellin' funny. Ya smell just fine ta me. And guess what? Ya know the commander (deputy) and the chief (leader)? They were both loners before they came ta join the clans." Owltalon wasn't a loner herself, but she never held a grudge against any new members, regardless of where they came from. As long as they were respectful and willing to change, Owltalon could care less. Beachkit obviously checked all those boxes, and anycat who couldn't clearly see that needed a stern talking to.
The next statement was truly concerning. Owltalon, again, didn't know much about siblings relationships, so perhaps it was something beyond her comprehension. But all this approval stuff didn't seem remotely healthy. "I know ya care for yer brother, chap, but the whole world could choose ta not accept you, but that doesn't mean ya don't belong. Who are they ta say ya shouldn't be 'ere? Ya came for somethin', didn't get it, not yet, but their approval is worth dirt until they realize how great ya are. I know it'll be hard ta stop craving' validation from Seabreeze, I understand, he is family af'er all. But, all that cravin' is gonna dig a crater in ya if ya ain't careful." Words that should've been spoken awhile ago. Owltalon wasn't sure when Seabreeze would be ready, but she wasn't about to loose her child while he searched for him in flames. Holding back was something Owltalon rarely did when it came to her ambitions, but this situation called for it. Called for Beachkit to "forget". Eh... For a lack of better word.
When Beachkit pulled his paw back in a quick and startling movement, Owltalon was worried he stepped on a thorn. Her fur bristled in alarm and she began to rise to her paws before he expressed that he wasn't sure if it was even empty or not. "No problem, I'll be right there." She pushed herself to her full height and padded over to the mossbed, giving it a good sniff. She tilted her head before turning back to Beachkit and giving him a smile. "Yeah, it's all good, chap. That's a powerful nose ya got there. Go on ahead, make yerself comfortable."
__________________
❝Whatever will be, will be. Don't care what anyone else thinks.❞
-When You Grow Up, Your Heat Dies
The warrior heard footsteps near by, but didn't bother to look over, assuming the she-cat would continue on. That is, until she addressed him rather sharply. He turned his head abruptly, amber eye narrowing in agitation. "What's yur problem, lass?" he growled, tense limbs preparing to stand. He was stopped in his tracks, however, as he noticed a furball hidden behind the other warrior in some shrubbery.
Flattening his fur abruptly, he instead shifted to a sitting position upon his rock, peering at the other two. "Just...lost in thought," he grumbled, reluctant to share his troubles with a kit and a stranger, even she was a Riverclan warrior. Taking a better look at the crying kitten, he realized that he recognized her.
"You...you're one of Mistyshard's wards, yes?" he inquired. Why was she crying? A troubling thought crossed his mind. If he was the father of Mistyshard's biological children, did that make him responsible for her adoptive ones as well? Either way, he supposed it was the polite thing to do.
"Stop that," he ordered. Oh Stars, that wasn't the proper way to address a kit. "No, don't," he corrected himself. Wait. Yes, do. Why was this so difficult? The dread began to return. If he couldn't even talk to one kit, how was he going to deal with a whole litter of them?
Re: RiverClan Camp
