The Low and High Tiers [C]

Poppykit had been running around all morning, helping out the queens in the nursery as best she could. Not that the queens enjoyed that she was helping. 'You need your rest!' they mewed, 'You need to get your sleep too!' Well, no, Poppykit doesn't need sleep. At least not right now. Right now she's gathering up the kits that wandered out of the nursery so they could get some sleep.

Now the kits were gathered in the nursery and Poppykit was spending a little more time outside, taking a break from everything. She stretched and flopped over in the dust, rolling around a bit to get rid of more of her excess energy. She rolled over and over, her legs outstretched, and enjoying the feeling of her body spinning over the valley floor. She finally stopped when she landed at the paws of another cat. She stared up at the cat she landed at, and she squinted to try and make out the face of the cat when the sun is shining so bright in her eyes.

Silky dark edges of wispy fur caught sharply against the wan light of the snowy skies, gentle ripples of quickly dissipating pale light heavily framed the occasional, quickly-fleeting movements exuded by Jaystar, a series of movements and brushes faintly reminiscent of the dark riverwaters flowing just beyond the reaches of camp. Dark expanse of his being lost to the hard backlight of the afternoon sun, an unblinking amber gaze remained fixed upon the little shape of Poppykit currently sprawled at his paws- the latest bundle of spitfire born into the Clan likely demonstrating her newest calling to exceedingly limited freedom. It seemed like they had several of such a type these days, with how often he happened upon them while simply making his usual rounds of relatively harmless politicking.

"Hello," Jaystar rumbled on a dry note, thunderous voice tumbling out from the pitted fathoms of his chest as he continued to peer down at the young molly with a honey-wine stare, "it seems as though you were enjoying yourself before I happened to interrupt."

Poppykit quickly rolled over and scrambled to her feet. She bowed her head respectfully and hoped that she wasn't quaking too much on her toes.

"J-Jaystar! No, you didn't interrupt me," she assured quickly. She stared up at him with speckled green eyes. "I'm sorry for intruding onto you."

Oh bother! Poppy had been so busy that she'd catapulted her way right into her leader? Even as a newly-born kit, she knew that Jaystar was an important cat to be respected. She needed to give the leader his space. She can already hear the scolding she is going to receive from the queens back in the nursery.

Jaystar's dark gaze remained fixed upon the gangly shape of young Poppykit, the blotched-furred little molly nothing more than a watery smear of clashing colors in the reflective dark gleam of his simmering liquid gaze. There was a slight reverberation of amusement through the fragile bones that lined the cavernous expanse of his chest, though ultimately the large tom made little to no movement as he idly digested every manner in which the young molly reacted. Though, in a thankful respite from previous interactions with other kits, it didn't seem as though Poppykit held the same avid enjoyment for relaying odd gossip overheard by Queens.

"All is well," Jaystar eventually rumbled out after a heartbeat or so, low voice heavy with its usual syrup-like consistency of passive disinterest. It seemed as though he had been spending enough time with kits as of late that he had scraped together a haphazard semblance of patience and comfort. "Does your mother know that you're out here?"

Poppykit watched Jaystar with excitable eyes. She didn't seem to quite register the critical way he watched her, or the judgment emanating off of him. She was but a kit, and kits lived in a world without horrors or judgment. All she saw was her leader.

And her leader was speaking with her! Poppykit's tail stood straight up on end, excitement vibrating within her while she watched him. He wasn't immediately shooing her away either. She knew that he occasionally spoke with apprentices, and even a kit here or there. Poppykit hoped that she could make him proud enough to speak with her again in the future.

However, at the mention of her mother, her tail drooped a bit. "I never met her," she mewed. "The other queens said her name was Robinear." Her mother had passed away shortly after delivering her litter due to complications. Poppykit hadn't even been old enough to open her eyes, and so she has always seen all of the queens as her mother, and all of the kits as her littermates.

No no no! No need in being sad and upset for someone she never truly met. She was before her leader, and while her mother could do nothing, the other queens were still her guardians in the nursery.

"I tire out the queens a lot," Poppykit added. "I always try to help, but I don't think they always like me helping. So they tell me to go out and play a lot so I don't bother my siblings."

[OOC: Robinear is just a throwaway NPC I gave her as a mother so you can make up whatever about her, if you'd like Jaystar to have thoughts on her :)]

Dark gaze continually trained upon the small, scruffy shape of young Poppykit, who thankfully seemed to relinquish whatever temporary holdings of fear that had originally weighed upon her little shoulders, the angular tom allowed a lapse in silence on his behalf. The aquiline curve of Jaystar's muzzle scrunched up in a thinly-veiled display of sympathy at the younger molly's abrupt home-life commentary, evidently more similar to his own original standings then he had anticipated upon intercepting the little calico.

Purposefully remaining poised and neatly coiled under the intent of appearing mid-activity to outside eyes who might happen upon him with the guise of requiring his presence to smooth over prickles, Jaystar nodded with an idle interest. His own mothers had held exceptionally little time and patience for his finnicky antics and perpetual poor temperament, even back seasons ago when the weather was much less constricting in what graces could be offered to the young and rambunctious. "I see," He eventually mews, wry voice resonating hollowly within the space between his teeth, "I'm sure our Clanmates would approve of such a division of kit-rearing. What games do you like to play?"

"Oh they love to play all sorts of games," Poppykit said, immediately perking up brightly. "Their favorite is to play warriors. They like to pretend they're already grown up. Sometimes they'll split roles so one will pretend to be from another clan--their favorite at the moment is ThunderClan--and the others will be some of our warriors. Ashflight, Harebounce, Tinypool...They all have their favorites. Then they will playfight together, tossing and tumbling in the dirt!"

Poppykit laughed and fell onto her back like she was demonstrating. The fearful respect she'd displayed for Jaystar was gone, now replaced with the usual naive chipperness of kits. "They'll roll around, yelling out their favorite moves. Sometimes it will go on for a long time. But no matter what, RiverClan always wins!"

She relaxed and let her limbs fall to her side, her belly exposed and a big grin on her face as she caught her breath from her explanation. "There's others too, like Chase or Ball. I don't like Chase as much. But it's really fun watching them tousle around. I don't think the queens like cleaning the dirty and snow out of the fur after, though."

RiverClan was an amazing clan. Poppykit was so lucky to have been born here. She couldn't imagine having a leader other than Jaystar or a queen besides Stormbringer or a deputy lesser stern than Perchfall. This was her home and she was excited to be able to help her clan when she was older.