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Description

cw: violence/child endangerment/very vague drowning mention (nothing comes of it.)

The great tree was alight with activity, the sounds of folk laughing and chattering audible from the small clearing where Missy found herself settled, laying down as she took in the view of the stars.
On any other day, she would be among them, talking, laughing, celebrating, especially with the hootenanny festivities. But now, all she can do is just sit by the lake and look up at the stars.
Information spreads fast, especially among a group of kits as agitated as the deadman’s cove newcomers. So, when the expedition began to return, it wasn’t long until most of the kits knew about Icarus’s transformation and the subsequent destruction of the deadman’s cove, and after learning about all that, Missy didn’t really have any hootenanny fun time left in her.
All in all, she was angry that they let it all come to this. Angry that her home was just gone and everyone cared more about that charlatan-damned monster that destroyed it than anything. Angry that none of those idiots stopped him before he could destroy everything she’s ever known.
Morons. All of them.

The other two folk with her seemed not to be faring well either. She recognized both of them as fellow kits from the deadman’s cove, though not ones she’d heard from or even really bothered to learn the names of. The white kit was pacing the lake slowly, a distant look in their eyes as they seemed completely detached from the world. The dark blue one, on the other hand, was curled up on themself, writhing tentacles wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop falling. There were more in their group initially, but they had long since departed. The pale silent one vanished without as much as a word, the light blue one had fallen asleep and was brought into the den by the white one, and the pink one had run off, yelling something about being a hero. Missy wasn’t one for sentimentals, but there was something surreal about it all. Just a group of kits, sitting in silence, sharing the terror and grief and rage they all felt in that moment.

Missy watched as the white kit began to walk away from the pond, movements oddly stiff as if they were controlled by something else entirely. Maybe she should have reached out to them. Maybe she should have spoken up at all. Maybe-
All of a sudden and without warning, Missy found herself pinned to the ground, held down by sharp claws. A predator? How did she not hear it coming? Was she that stupid, to let her guard down like this?
She thought fast, slashing her own claws blindly upwards, and being rewarded with the feeling of hitting flesh, and the claws that held her down recoiling. She quickly stood up, prepared to face her attacker.
The kit in front of her had a wild look in their eyes, ringed with the same orange that had overtaken their phylakardia and wings. Missy thought that wildness, that desperation, could just maybe be hunger.
Her assailant lunged towards her again, but this time Missy was prepared, as she dug her heels into the ground, and dropped her center of gravity. Her efforts would however become useless as instead of knocking her to the ground again, the kit grabbed onto Missy and flapped their wings, lifting the both of them high into the air. Missy kicked at the air wildly, trying unsuccessfully to worm her way free. The kit brought the both of them higher up in the air, barely flinching as Missy tried to punch and kick her way out of their grasp. She was getting desperate now, and adrenaline was taking hold of her as she made one last-ditch effort to break free.
She bit down on the folk’s shoulder. Hard. She heard a cry of shock from above her before she was dropped, free-falling for only a moment before being mercifully caught by the lake she was previously resting at. For a moment, she was motionless, watching as the blur of orange and black that was her assailant flew away, seemingly satisfied with their actions. She rested still, as she watched the ether trail away from her body, both purple and a foreign orange, which still covered her mouth and stung at her wounds. After what seemed like hours, though, she felt her lungs start to ache, and all of a sudden, the adrenaline was back, pulling her forwards towards the surface of the water, filling her lungs with water, dragging her back to shore as she pulled herself onto dry land once more, towards a now empty landscape, and the great tree beckoning her. As the adrenaline faded away once more, the empty spot it occupied was replaced by an ever growing hunger.
800 words!

the drawing here is janky but w/e
featuring shslsquirrel 's folk xaulter! thank you for letting me steal nasty boy <3
13/826
tracker

Description

cw: violence/child endangerment/very vague drowning mention (nothing comes of it.)

The great tree was alight with activity, the sounds of folk laughing and chattering audible from the small clearing where Missy found herself settled, laying down as she took in the view of the stars.
On any other day, she would be among them, talking, laughing, celebrating, especially with the hootenanny festivities. But now, all she can do is just sit by the lake and look up at the stars.
Information spreads fast, especially among a group of kits as agitated as the deadman’s cove newcomers. So, when the expedition began to return, it wasn’t long until most of the kits knew about Icarus’s transformation and the subsequent destruction of the deadman’s cove, and after learning about all that, Missy didn’t really have any hootenanny fun time left in her.
All in all, she was angry that they let it all come to this. Angry that her home was just gone and everyone cared more about that charlatan-damned monster that destroyed it than anything. Angry that none of those idiots stopped him before he could destroy everything she’s ever known.
Morons. All of them.

The other two folk with her seemed not to be faring well either. She recognized both of them as fellow kits from the deadman’s cove, though not ones she’d heard from or even really bothered to learn the names of. The white kit was pacing the lake slowly, a distant look in their eyes as they seemed completely detached from the world. The dark blue one, on the other hand, was curled up on themself, writhing tentacles wiping away tears that wouldn’t stop falling. There were more in their group initially, but they had long since departed. The pale silent one vanished without as much as a word, the light blue one had fallen asleep and was brought into the den by the white one, and the pink one had run off, yelling something about being a hero. Missy wasn’t one for sentimentals, but there was something surreal about it all. Just a group of kits, sitting in silence, sharing the terror and grief and rage they all felt in that moment.

Missy watched as the white kit began to walk away from the pond, movements oddly stiff as if they were controlled by something else entirely. Maybe she should have reached out to them. Maybe she should have spoken up at all. Maybe-
All of a sudden and without warning, Missy found herself pinned to the ground, held down by sharp claws. A predator? How did she not hear it coming? Was she that stupid, to let her guard down like this?
She thought fast, slashing her own claws blindly upwards, and being rewarded with the feeling of hitting flesh, and the claws that held her down recoiling. She quickly stood up, prepared to face her attacker.
The kit in front of her had a wild look in their eyes, ringed with the same orange that had overtaken their phylakardia and wings. Missy thought that wildness, that desperation, could just maybe be hunger.
Her assailant lunged towards her again, but this time Missy was prepared, as she dug her heels into the ground, and dropped her center of gravity. Her efforts would however become useless as instead of knocking her to the ground again, the kit grabbed onto Missy and flapped their wings, lifting the both of them high into the air. Missy kicked at the air wildly, trying unsuccessfully to worm her way free. The kit brought the both of them higher up in the air, barely flinching as Missy tried to punch and kick her way out of their grasp. She was getting desperate now, and adrenaline was taking hold of her as she made one last-ditch effort to break free.
She bit down on the folk’s shoulder. Hard. She heard a cry of shock from above her before she was dropped, free-falling for only a moment before being mercifully caught by the lake she was previously resting at. For a moment, she was motionless, watching as the blur of orange and black that was her assailant flew away, seemingly satisfied with their actions. She rested still, as she watched the ether trail away from her body, both purple and a foreign orange, which still covered her mouth and stung at her wounds. After what seemed like hours, though, she felt her lungs start to ache, and all of a sudden, the adrenaline was back, pulling her forwards towards the surface of the water, filling her lungs with water, dragging her back to shore as she pulled herself onto dry land once more, towards a now empty landscape, and the great tree beckoning her. As the adrenaline faded away once more, the empty spot it occupied was replaced by an ever growing hunger.
800 words!

the drawing here is janky but w/e
featuring shslsquirrel 's folk xaulter! thank you for letting me steal nasty boy <3
13/826
tracker