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Description
General Information
Name: Cecily
Nicknames: Kitten / Kit, Furball, Rosie
Past Names: Rosie -- C -- Cecily
Age: 26 months (Two year and two months)
Gender: Female

Affiliation: Mokeskogen Tribe
Previous Affiliation(s): No previous affiliations
Rank: Tribe Sentry
Previous Ranks: Kitten -- Underling
Religious beliefs: While she's been told stories of the gods her whole life, and she does believe in them, she doesn't agree with how her tribe has villainized them so severely. She certainly doesn't think that they are divine beings that can do no wrong and are perfect angels or something of the like, though. Put it this way; she believes in the gods, but due to the two conflicting religions and how she's been raised, her ideas about them are a bit muddled and confusing.

Appearance and Scent
Breed: Turkish Angora mix
Size: Taller than the average female tribe cat.
Body Type: Cecily is very lean and lithe. Toned, if you will. Due to her tall stature, it's very obvious that she has long limbs, which have earned her the occasional and rare but affectionately used nickname of 'Spider' (rare because names such as Kitten and Furball are much more commonly used when referring to Cecily). Most would think that her long limbs would be a hindrance, and would sap out her grace and skill as a sentry. However, she grew up with them, and has learned total control of them and all of her movements. Another factor in her not being nearly as clumsy as one might think is her large tail. It has a lot of mass on it, and provides a stable sense of balance.
Fur Length and Texture: Cecily has fairly short fur, but it's not so extremely short that it resembles the pelt of a Cornish rex. While she is an angora mix, her fur does not necessarily show that (in terms of length, that is). The short length of her fur is great in the summer and spring seasons, but during late fall and lasting through winter she is prone to small bouts of sickness. She can become cold easily, and during less temperate nights has been known to scoot towards other cats in her sleep to keep warm. Her fur is extremely soft and downy to the touch, but it tends to be displaced easily. Even in a soft breeze her pelt has been known to end up in half-hazard ruffles and spikes, which is relatively cute, until a large squall with a lot of strong wind hits, and she looks similar to a hedgehog.
Scars and Disabilities: Above right eye (Feline claws), right side of muzzle (Feline claws), lower back (result of a stupid dare as an underling ;; thorn patch), right hind leg (badger), torn ear (another repercussion from the great thorn patch incident)
Eyes: Even in a place where cats seem to have impossible eye colors, Cecily has a rare gaze. Her eyes are a striking pink color, and resemble two rubellite gemstones. Cats seem to get strung up when they see her eyes, and at first glance, or even from a distance, one might mistake them for the more common color of red. No mistakes such as that can be made once you look her in the eye from a closer point. There is no doubt about the pink hue of her gaze.
Items: Cloth wrapped around her left front leg. Longer cloth running along her lower back and tail.
Scent: Fresh rain with hints of smells akin to cinnamon and vanilla.

Personality
** Cetain traits are listed together and explained in the same paragraph as opposed to separating them all out **

Happy | Bubbly | Optomistic Most felines feel a flash of annoyance, or even embarrassment when they finally realize that others always, always notice their bandages and scars before anything else. Cecily does not. Some cat's may be intimidated by her old injuries, some might even call her less than pretty. That honesty doesn't bother her. She gained her injuries by doing her job, her duty to the tribe, and if it shows in her appearance that shows her and gives her validation that she has done what she needs to do. So, in short, stares and whispers do not hinder her optimism at all. She's always wearing a cheery smile on her face and has a trademark bounce to her step. She's the kind of cat who's smile lights up the den.
Oblivious | Less than Observant Cecily can act like an underling, or even a kitten at times. Sometimes she'll merely not understand a joke or she'll take a mental field trip while someone is talking, and will snap back to attention totally bewildered. At those times, she makes for a cute little feline, but this can be a bit dangerous in physical altercations. She doesn't tend to be as unobservant during a fight, as she becomes hyperaware and extremely serious, but the possibility still lingers, posing the question 'what if?'
Affectionate | Loyal | Clingy No matter how adorable or innocent Cecily really is, a lot of cat's do tend to distance themselves from her on account of her appearance, which means she does not have a large group of friends or loved ones. Her mother, Elizabeth, distanced herself from her kitten after she became a newly lettered underling, which is another part of her not having a lot of loved ones. Because of all this, when Cecily makes new friends (no matter how new) she will become extremely loyal towards those individuals, and will never refuse to stick up for them. She tends to be very affectionate with her friends and loved ones, and is a notorious snuggler, which is actually very cute to see. That being said, she can be a bit clingy, as her mother's distancing / near abandonment has left her with severe abandonment issues, and that can get on someone's nerves if they aren't aware of why she is like that.
Spontaneous | Lacks tact in social situations She has issues keeping her mouth shut / holding her tongue in social situations. She tends to blurt out things without a thought the moment it enters her head, and this can get her in deep water with some cats (cough cough, namely figures of authority). Her close friends tend to see it coming, and are always the ones to laugh a bit when she makes a bluster instead of getting offended. (will be expanded)

Sexual Information
Orientation: Heterosexual (Straight)
Preferences:
- Unique eye colors (even if there's nothing to unique about the color, if there's a special feature about them that's just as well for her.
- She doesn't care about the color of your pelt as long as it's fluffy and warm! She is forever chilled due to her pelt length, and loves to snuggle into long fur to keep warm.
- Someone who won't tease her in a demeaning way about her oblivious nature, she's fine with playful teasing and such, but anything slightly mean is not okay with her. She likes cats who understand her issues with abandonment and are accepting of the fact that she's bound to be a little clingy. She's very appreciative of humor and loyalty/dependability.
Experience: None (Virgin)
Relationship Status: Open

Family
Sire: Unknown
Dam: Elizabeth
Littermates: None
Siblings: None

Paternal Sire: ??
Paternal Dam: ??
Paternal Uncles: ??
Paternal Aunts: ??
Paternal Cousins: ??

Maternal Sire: Ferdinand
Maternal Dam: Charity
Maternal Uncles: West (Westley), Tobias
Maternal Aunts: None
Maternal Cousins: None

History:
* This is currently a quick overview and will be written in detail when I have the time to *

Prologue
Elizabeth was a prim and proper, highly religious cat, or as she insisted on being called, lady. Though in her later years as a hunter, she was like this; the epitome of proper 'lady-like' behavior (a snob if you ask nearly anyone else), as an underling known as 'E', she was not so 'perfect'. She had always had problems with authority, and refused to be told what to do, she considered herself to be above being ordered around. During her last few months as an underling, she became involved in quite a few flings, stirring up drama and hormones at every turn.

Kittenhood:
It wasn't much surprise when Elizabeth gave birth to a little girl as a newly named hunter. She had no idea who the father was, due to the striking resemblance the kitten had to herself, but she wouldn't have cared anyways.
She was smitten with her kitten, who she frequently called Rosie after her rose colored ginger pelt. Rosie was seen as a little doll for her mother, who was constantly controlling every aspect of her life trying to make her just like her mother. Besides her mothers love of glorifying herself and living vicariously through her daughter, she also knew that because of her kitten, she didn't need to hunt for the time being. Not that she did much of that when she wasn't pregnant anyhow.
'Rosie' or 'Rose' was a very lively kitten, and (while her mother wasn't paying attention) tended to be very rowdy. She would get into play fights with her den-mates, but often received a harsh berating from Elizabeth who was appalled by her daughters lack of poise.

Underling

Elizabeth wasn't concerned when her daughter was given the letter-name of 'C'.
What did concern her, however, was her being assigned to become a sentry.
She wasn't quite concerned, of course. That would be a massive understatement. She threw a fit, a massive, glorified hissy fit. She was spouting things about how her daughter would not become a sentry. Fighting was disgraceful, it lacked the basic finesse a lady must maintain! All that brawling and such should be left to tom cats, not a lady!
She was inevitably told off by her higher-ups, but she was not about to back down, and on several occasions during her daughters first week being known as C, cornered her and attempted to convince (rather forcefully) her to do something about this outrage. She soon saw her daughter in practices, though. Her happiness astounded her, and she began to slowly distance herself from her daughter with disgust. She had not raised that kitten, surely this was the doing of the wicked gods.
When C earned her first scar in a minor skirmish, Elizabeth lost it. It was disgusting! horrendous! hideous! No daughter of hers would participate in such disgraceful practices and no daughter of hers would have her pelt marred by a scar. She was too much of a coward to announce it publicly (though nearly everyone knew what had happened) and cornered her daughter to tell her as much, and basically disowned her.

Sentry
To this day, Elizabeth refuses to speak to Cecily, though she may have had some influence in her daughters name (as it resembles a commonly used name during the middle ages in England, as did Elizabeth's name-- though they wouldn't know that, her mother would have picked it simply because it sounded lady like) as a last ditch, half hearted attempt to salvage any of her old teachings. The only thing that passes from Elizabeth to Cecily at this point are nasty glares and disgusted wrinkles of her nose.

Trivia
Favorites:

Prey: "Uuuuuh all of it? is that an answer?? I can't think of anything else!"
Color: Gold / Orange
Season: Summer (she's nice and warm during the summer)
Activity: cuddling<3 mock battles and fights (she's a real kitten at heart)
Time: Sunrise and Sunset

Fears:
- Raising her own kits like her mother raised her
- Being abandoned
- Being disliked / hated
- Drowning
- Snowstorms / Blizzards
- Lizards (She finds them terrifying and unnatural)

Likes and Dislikes:
TBA

Roleplay
Availability:
Notes: - I prefer notes for roleplaying~! I will pretty much always rp using notes.
Comments: - I honestly don't like roleplaying through comments. It's unorganized to me.
Chat: - I don't use chats very often, but if you catch me in one I wouldn't be that opposed to using it for a rp.
Forum: - I'm perfectly fine roleplaying through forums if the group has one! c:
Skype: - Just ask and I'll note you my Skype.

Sample: (from TBT using Ivykit)
Ivykit leaned forward quietly towards a large, mossy nest, keeping careful check of her balance so as not to fall and alert the unfortunate apprentice of her antics. A good sized thorn was clutched between her teeth gingerly, one that she'd snatched as a grumpy warrior ripped a multitude of them off, grumbling to the medicine cat about getting stuck in a thorn bush. She let her jaw open a sliver, allowing the thorn to drop down into the nest that contained a fitfully sleeping apprentice. It had landed on it's side, blast it! Ivykit hated to have to adjust it, the action would surely get her caught. A jolt of pain on her tail caused her to leap up into the air, scared out of her wits as the large apprentice opened one gleaming red eye..
Ivykit jolted awake, her breath coming out in short, quick puffs. It was just a stupid nightmare she thought crossly, refusing to wake her mother up for consolation. A tiny whisper made it's way to her ears as she attempted to fall back into a hopefully peaceful lull of sleep. "Ivykit? Are you awake?" That would almost certainly be Nettlekit or Tangledkit, and her guess was on Nettlekit as when she opened up her two green eyes blearily, she could see Tangledkit snuggled up against Flarestalker. The small she-kit slowly raised her head up and swiveled it around in an attempt to find her brother. There! He was standing a few whiskers away, as still as a stone as he watched her with a wide eyed look. Ivykit's mouth widened into a smile as she realized her brother must be attempting to cause some kind of trouble. She felt her paws tingle at the prospect of causing mischief. She carefully untangled herself from her siblings, not wanting to wake them, and drew herself slowly away from the heat of her mother. She skittered over to her brother's side, watching him for an explanation, or for him to lead the way out of the nursery.
Ivykit noticed the terrified look her brother gave her as she appeared at his side, and felt a wave of stubbornness flare up in her chest, her round eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, prepared to issue a threat or blackmail of some kind, Starclan knows she'd seen enough of his and Tangledkit's shenanigans left unsolved to create a particularly satisfying threat.
She felt a slight twinge of disappointment that she wouldn't have the chance to craft a threat as Nettlekit scampered off, but cast the feeling aside, making room for more excitement. She skittered off behind him, casting a nervous glance back at the sleeping queens in the nursery, half expecting one of them to open up their eyes and scold them.
She turned around to face Nettlekit, nerves long forgotten. She ignored his praise. hmph! What did he expect? I'm not nearly as clumsy as the other kits!, she thought indignantly, fluffing out her sleep-mussed fur.
"Iv? What do you think of exploring the medicine cat den? I'm sure there are many delicious treats in there..." Ivykit's whole body tingled with anticipation, there were so many things in there! And the fact that she'd been told so many times not to venture in there and mess around with the supplies made the idea even more appealing to the disobedient kit.
"Of course! C'mon, Nettlekit!" She whispered, bounding over towards the opening to the den eagerly, not waiting for a reply.
Ivykit looked up from her inspection of a cluster of old berries to hush her brother as he let loose a cry of joy, she didn't want anyone waking up and getting after them, after all. All thoughts of telling him to quiet down a bit vanished as her green gaze locked on to the store of honey her brother was lapping at. Her ears perked up and she straightened out a bit as she recalled the taste of honey. She hadn't had a sore throat like her brother, but she'd gotten a sample of the sweet stuff as a treat for being well behaved once.
Ignoring her own ideals about keeping quiet, Ivykit scrambled over to her brother before he got all of the honey. In her sloppy wake she knocked over several piles of herbs, scattering them about. She shouldered her brother a little to the side so there was room for her, and began eagerly lapping at the honey.
She paused for a moment, looking up at her brother with a gleam of excitement shining in her eyes. "I bet Tangledkit's going to be absolutley sour when he finds out about this!" She crowed, being mindful of her volume.

Description
General Information
Name: Cecily
Nicknames: Kitten / Kit, Furball, Rosie
Past Names: Rosie -- C -- Cecily
Age: 26 months (Two year and two months)
Gender: Female

Affiliation: Mokeskogen Tribe
Previous Affiliation(s): No previous affiliations
Rank: Tribe Sentry
Previous Ranks: Kitten -- Underling
Religious beliefs: While she's been told stories of the gods her whole life, and she does believe in them, she doesn't agree with how her tribe has villainized them so severely. She certainly doesn't think that they are divine beings that can do no wrong and are perfect angels or something of the like, though. Put it this way; she believes in the gods, but due to the two conflicting religions and how she's been raised, her ideas about them are a bit muddled and confusing.

Appearance and Scent
Breed: Turkish Angora mix
Size: Taller than the average female tribe cat.
Body Type: Cecily is very lean and lithe. Toned, if you will. Due to her tall stature, it's very obvious that she has long limbs, which have earned her the occasional and rare but affectionately used nickname of 'Spider' (rare because names such as Kitten and Furball are much more commonly used when referring to Cecily). Most would think that her long limbs would be a hindrance, and would sap out her grace and skill as a sentry. However, she grew up with them, and has learned total control of them and all of her movements. Another factor in her not being nearly as clumsy as one might think is her large tail. It has a lot of mass on it, and provides a stable sense of balance.
Fur Length and Texture: Cecily has fairly short fur, but it's not so extremely short that it resembles the pelt of a Cornish rex. While she is an angora mix, her fur does not necessarily show that (in terms of length, that is). The short length of her fur is great in the summer and spring seasons, but during late fall and lasting through winter she is prone to small bouts of sickness. She can become cold easily, and during less temperate nights has been known to scoot towards other cats in her sleep to keep warm. Her fur is extremely soft and downy to the touch, but it tends to be displaced easily. Even in a soft breeze her pelt has been known to end up in half-hazard ruffles and spikes, which is relatively cute, until a large squall with a lot of strong wind hits, and she looks similar to a hedgehog.
Scars and Disabilities: Above right eye (Feline claws), right side of muzzle (Feline claws), lower back (result of a stupid dare as an underling ;; thorn patch), right hind leg (badger), torn ear (another repercussion from the great thorn patch incident)
Eyes: Even in a place where cats seem to have impossible eye colors, Cecily has a rare gaze. Her eyes are a striking pink color, and resemble two rubellite gemstones. Cats seem to get strung up when they see her eyes, and at first glance, or even from a distance, one might mistake them for the more common color of red. No mistakes such as that can be made once you look her in the eye from a closer point. There is no doubt about the pink hue of her gaze.
Items: Cloth wrapped around her left front leg. Longer cloth running along her lower back and tail.
Scent: Fresh rain with hints of smells akin to cinnamon and vanilla.

Personality
** Cetain traits are listed together and explained in the same paragraph as opposed to separating them all out **

Happy | Bubbly | Optomistic Most felines feel a flash of annoyance, or even embarrassment when they finally realize that others always, always notice their bandages and scars before anything else. Cecily does not. Some cat's may be intimidated by her old injuries, some might even call her less than pretty. That honesty doesn't bother her. She gained her injuries by doing her job, her duty to the tribe, and if it shows in her appearance that shows her and gives her validation that she has done what she needs to do. So, in short, stares and whispers do not hinder her optimism at all. She's always wearing a cheery smile on her face and has a trademark bounce to her step. She's the kind of cat who's smile lights up the den.
Oblivious | Less than Observant Cecily can act like an underling, or even a kitten at times. Sometimes she'll merely not understand a joke or she'll take a mental field trip while someone is talking, and will snap back to attention totally bewildered. At those times, she makes for a cute little feline, but this can be a bit dangerous in physical altercations. She doesn't tend to be as unobservant during a fight, as she becomes hyperaware and extremely serious, but the possibility still lingers, posing the question 'what if?'
Affectionate | Loyal | Clingy No matter how adorable or innocent Cecily really is, a lot of cat's do tend to distance themselves from her on account of her appearance, which means she does not have a large group of friends or loved ones. Her mother, Elizabeth, distanced herself from her kitten after she became a newly lettered underling, which is another part of her not having a lot of loved ones. Because of all this, when Cecily makes new friends (no matter how new) she will become extremely loyal towards those individuals, and will never refuse to stick up for them. She tends to be very affectionate with her friends and loved ones, and is a notorious snuggler, which is actually very cute to see. That being said, she can be a bit clingy, as her mother's distancing / near abandonment has left her with severe abandonment issues, and that can get on someone's nerves if they aren't aware of why she is like that.
Spontaneous | Lacks tact in social situations She has issues keeping her mouth shut / holding her tongue in social situations. She tends to blurt out things without a thought the moment it enters her head, and this can get her in deep water with some cats (cough cough, namely figures of authority). Her close friends tend to see it coming, and are always the ones to laugh a bit when she makes a bluster instead of getting offended. (will be expanded)

Sexual Information
Orientation: Heterosexual (Straight)
Preferences:
- Unique eye colors (even if there's nothing to unique about the color, if there's a special feature about them that's just as well for her.
- She doesn't care about the color of your pelt as long as it's fluffy and warm! She is forever chilled due to her pelt length, and loves to snuggle into long fur to keep warm.
- Someone who won't tease her in a demeaning way about her oblivious nature, she's fine with playful teasing and such, but anything slightly mean is not okay with her. She likes cats who understand her issues with abandonment and are accepting of the fact that she's bound to be a little clingy. She's very appreciative of humor and loyalty/dependability.
Experience: None (Virgin)
Relationship Status: Open

Family
Sire: Unknown
Dam: Elizabeth
Littermates: None
Siblings: None

Paternal Sire: ??
Paternal Dam: ??
Paternal Uncles: ??
Paternal Aunts: ??
Paternal Cousins: ??

Maternal Sire: Ferdinand
Maternal Dam: Charity
Maternal Uncles: West (Westley), Tobias
Maternal Aunts: None
Maternal Cousins: None

History:
* This is currently a quick overview and will be written in detail when I have the time to *

Prologue
Elizabeth was a prim and proper, highly religious cat, or as she insisted on being called, lady. Though in her later years as a hunter, she was like this; the epitome of proper 'lady-like' behavior (a snob if you ask nearly anyone else), as an underling known as 'E', she was not so 'perfect'. She had always had problems with authority, and refused to be told what to do, she considered herself to be above being ordered around. During her last few months as an underling, she became involved in quite a few flings, stirring up drama and hormones at every turn.

Kittenhood:
It wasn't much surprise when Elizabeth gave birth to a little girl as a newly named hunter. She had no idea who the father was, due to the striking resemblance the kitten had to herself, but she wouldn't have cared anyways.
She was smitten with her kitten, who she frequently called Rosie after her rose colored ginger pelt. Rosie was seen as a little doll for her mother, who was constantly controlling every aspect of her life trying to make her just like her mother. Besides her mothers love of glorifying herself and living vicariously through her daughter, she also knew that because of her kitten, she didn't need to hunt for the time being. Not that she did much of that when she wasn't pregnant anyhow.
'Rosie' or 'Rose' was a very lively kitten, and (while her mother wasn't paying attention) tended to be very rowdy. She would get into play fights with her den-mates, but often received a harsh berating from Elizabeth who was appalled by her daughters lack of poise.

Underling

Elizabeth wasn't concerned when her daughter was given the letter-name of 'C'.
What did concern her, however, was her being assigned to become a sentry.
She wasn't quite concerned, of course. That would be a massive understatement. She threw a fit, a massive, glorified hissy fit. She was spouting things about how her daughter would not become a sentry. Fighting was disgraceful, it lacked the basic finesse a lady must maintain! All that brawling and such should be left to tom cats, not a lady!
She was inevitably told off by her higher-ups, but she was not about to back down, and on several occasions during her daughters first week being known as C, cornered her and attempted to convince (rather forcefully) her to do something about this outrage. She soon saw her daughter in practices, though. Her happiness astounded her, and she began to slowly distance herself from her daughter with disgust. She had not raised that kitten, surely this was the doing of the wicked gods.
When C earned her first scar in a minor skirmish, Elizabeth lost it. It was disgusting! horrendous! hideous! No daughter of hers would participate in such disgraceful practices and no daughter of hers would have her pelt marred by a scar. She was too much of a coward to announce it publicly (though nearly everyone knew what had happened) and cornered her daughter to tell her as much, and basically disowned her.

Sentry
To this day, Elizabeth refuses to speak to Cecily, though she may have had some influence in her daughters name (as it resembles a commonly used name during the middle ages in England, as did Elizabeth's name-- though they wouldn't know that, her mother would have picked it simply because it sounded lady like) as a last ditch, half hearted attempt to salvage any of her old teachings. The only thing that passes from Elizabeth to Cecily at this point are nasty glares and disgusted wrinkles of her nose.

Trivia
Favorites:

Prey: "Uuuuuh all of it? is that an answer?? I can't think of anything else!"
Color: Gold / Orange
Season: Summer (she's nice and warm during the summer)
Activity: cuddling<3 mock battles and fights (she's a real kitten at heart)
Time: Sunrise and Sunset

Fears:
- Raising her own kits like her mother raised her
- Being abandoned
- Being disliked / hated
- Drowning
- Snowstorms / Blizzards
- Lizards (She finds them terrifying and unnatural)

Likes and Dislikes:
TBA

Roleplay
Availability:
Notes: - I prefer notes for roleplaying~! I will pretty much always rp using notes.
Comments: - I honestly don't like roleplaying through comments. It's unorganized to me.
Chat: - I don't use chats very often, but if you catch me in one I wouldn't be that opposed to using it for a rp.
Forum: - I'm perfectly fine roleplaying through forums if the group has one! c:
Skype: - Just ask and I'll note you my Skype.

Sample: (from TBT using Ivykit)
Ivykit leaned forward quietly towards a large, mossy nest, keeping careful check of her balance so as not to fall and alert the unfortunate apprentice of her antics. A good sized thorn was clutched between her teeth gingerly, one that she'd snatched as a grumpy warrior ripped a multitude of them off, grumbling to the medicine cat about getting stuck in a thorn bush. She let her jaw open a sliver, allowing the thorn to drop down into the nest that contained a fitfully sleeping apprentice. It had landed on it's side, blast it! Ivykit hated to have to adjust it, the action would surely get her caught. A jolt of pain on her tail caused her to leap up into the air, scared out of her wits as the large apprentice opened one gleaming red eye..
Ivykit jolted awake, her breath coming out in short, quick puffs. It was just a stupid nightmare she thought crossly, refusing to wake her mother up for consolation. A tiny whisper made it's way to her ears as she attempted to fall back into a hopefully peaceful lull of sleep. "Ivykit? Are you awake?" That would almost certainly be Nettlekit or Tangledkit, and her guess was on Nettlekit as when she opened up her two green eyes blearily, she could see Tangledkit snuggled up against Flarestalker. The small she-kit slowly raised her head up and swiveled it around in an attempt to find her brother. There! He was standing a few whiskers away, as still as a stone as he watched her with a wide eyed look. Ivykit's mouth widened into a smile as she realized her brother must be attempting to cause some kind of trouble. She felt her paws tingle at the prospect of causing mischief. She carefully untangled herself from her siblings, not wanting to wake them, and drew herself slowly away from the heat of her mother. She skittered over to her brother's side, watching him for an explanation, or for him to lead the way out of the nursery.
Ivykit noticed the terrified look her brother gave her as she appeared at his side, and felt a wave of stubbornness flare up in her chest, her round eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth, prepared to issue a threat or blackmail of some kind, Starclan knows she'd seen enough of his and Tangledkit's shenanigans left unsolved to create a particularly satisfying threat.
She felt a slight twinge of disappointment that she wouldn't have the chance to craft a threat as Nettlekit scampered off, but cast the feeling aside, making room for more excitement. She skittered off behind him, casting a nervous glance back at the sleeping queens in the nursery, half expecting one of them to open up their eyes and scold them.
She turned around to face Nettlekit, nerves long forgotten. She ignored his praise. hmph! What did he expect? I'm not nearly as clumsy as the other kits!, she thought indignantly, fluffing out her sleep-mussed fur.
"Iv? What do you think of exploring the medicine cat den? I'm sure there are many delicious treats in there..." Ivykit's whole body tingled with anticipation, there were so many things in there! And the fact that she'd been told so many times not to venture in there and mess around with the supplies made the idea even more appealing to the disobedient kit.
"Of course! C'mon, Nettlekit!" She whispered, bounding over towards the opening to the den eagerly, not waiting for a reply.
Ivykit looked up from her inspection of a cluster of old berries to hush her brother as he let loose a cry of joy, she didn't want anyone waking up and getting after them, after all. All thoughts of telling him to quiet down a bit vanished as her green gaze locked on to the store of honey her brother was lapping at. Her ears perked up and she straightened out a bit as she recalled the taste of honey. She hadn't had a sore throat like her brother, but she'd gotten a sample of the sweet stuff as a treat for being well behaved once.
Ignoring her own ideals about keeping quiet, Ivykit scrambled over to her brother before he got all of the honey. In her sloppy wake she knocked over several piles of herbs, scattering them about. She shouldered her brother a little to the side so there was room for her, and began eagerly lapping at the honey.
She paused for a moment, looking up at her brother with a gleam of excitement shining in her eyes. "I bet Tangledkit's going to be absolutley sour when he finds out about this!" She crowed, being mindful of her volume.