The future's in your paws. Shape it well.Roleplay in a cat Clan of warriors. Based off the Warriors series by Erin Hunter. Takes place in an AU before the cats in the books existed.
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Subject: Fur the color of sand [c] Mon 16 Sep 2024 - 23:00
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Herringkit
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As the sun began to fall low Herringkit had grown a bit bored. He sat just outside the nursery, his meticulously groomed tufts of fur shifting in the breeze. There wasn't much left for him to clean out of boredom save for the sand in his pads, but that was rather unpleasant on his tongue.
Right beside Herringkit was a pile of treasures he'd found in the riverbank. Three shiny pebbles, a pair of feathers (one a lighter shade of brown than the other,) and a particularly beautiful shell. The shell was his greatest find yet. He couldn't wait to show it to Mother and Father, along with the other trinkets he'd uncovered. His tail curled around the items to shield them from the wind. Herringkit would hate to lose them.
The tom-kit's blue gaze lit up once he saw a familiar pale pelt pass through the camp entrance. "Father! Over here!" he called warmly, his voice bright and still a bit kit-like. He wished he could run right up to Dovetail, but he had feathers to protect.
Subject: Re: Fur the color of sand [c] Fri 4 Oct 2024 - 19:28
Dovetail still hadn't quite come to terms with what it meant to be a father. Having no example for what one should be like, he often felt awkward, stuck between an older brother figure or a friend in the way he tried to act. Family, definitely, and kind, and responsible, but... fatherly? He hardly knew the definition of the word. And the memory of one glowing yellow eye amidst the darkness certainly didn't help. Murkyriver's indisposition within the position of motherhood also caused some difficulties, making him have even less ability to reconcile his warrior duties with his new role. However, he knew one thing, and he knew it with every bone in his body. He loved his kits. All of them. They were important, they were family, and they were his. He loved them and he wanted to make sure they were safe and happy for their entire lives. So whenever he could spend time with them, he did so, and he did his best to remain a positive presence--even if he still wavered internally on what, exactly, that presence ought to be.
The high-pitched voice of one of his sons caused his brown-tipped ears to perk up when he returned from a patrol. It had been his last, thankfully, so he was now free from any other obligations for the evening, leaving him able to walk right over to the summons. Given the colder weather, Dovetail had been wearing his pelt when he left camp more and more often. The fox fur gave not only warmth, but also a sense of comfort he had been sorely missing these days. He could close his eyes and breathe in its familiar scent and almost believe that Egretswoop was still there with him, on patrol, a silent cream-furred sentry against the backdrop of the forest. For now, though, he couldn't seek out comfort from others. He had to provide it to his kits. The warrior grinned, sitting down next to his son. Pale-blue eyes roamed over the miniature version of himself, causing a familiar stutter in his heart. His son. His flesh and blood. "Hey, Herring," he said warmly. "What have you been up to today?"
![Fur the color of sand [c] 833dIG1](https://i.imgur.com/833dIG1.png)