[kiwipen]

for mystoxxiide

[mystoxxiide]

III - STRANGER DANGER
FEATURED STORKIES; pyrite, murk, ochre, whisper, bramble
PROMPT: “A stranger appears in your colony - thrusts this kit into your paws - and tells you to raise them well. Something terrible happened and they can never go back to their old colony. What do you do, how do you react?”
WC; 1071
POV; pyrite

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“Another day.” Murk huffed as he laid down, picking dead leaves out of his claws. Pyrite curled up beside him, beginning to draw his tongue rhythmically through the lynx point’s thick mane. “There’s dirt in your fur.” He mewed, combing his claws through it in an attempt to remove some. The faunal storkie sighed in thanks and stretched out his neck, allowing his mate to groom him.

The peace dissipated, however, when Whisper dashed into their den. Pyrite’s ears pricked - he opened his mouth in question, but was cut off by the plant storkie’s frantic breathing and cries. “There’s -- Ochre and I -- we -- the valley--” Her pupils were blown wide in fear, dark moons eclipsing her mint-coloured irises. “There’s someone coming.” She finally forced out, sounding like iron chains had wrapped themselves around her lungs.

Whisper was terrified of strangers. It had taken her weeks to warm up to Pyrite after he’d saved her on that cold, stormy night. That, combined with the shock of her speaking so openly, spurred him to action. Murk stood, but he was already at the marble tabby’s side, curling his tail around her and touching his nose to one of her flattened ears.

“Hey,” He began gently. “Look at me.” Whisper’s chest heaved with every breath. She let out a whimper. “Look at me, Ghost.” At the familiar nickname, she glanced up, meeting his warm amber eyes.

“It’s okay here. You’re safe. You don’t need to go outside, you can stay in the den if you’d like.” He spoke slowly, making sure to stay calm and keep his sentence open so she knew she had options. Whisper was no longer hyperventilating, but still a little shaky as she held his gaze. Then she looked past him to Murk. “You’ll protect me, right?” She quietly asked the faunal storkie, averting her gaze in embarrassment. In return, he let out a barking laugh and moved forward to lick her forehead affectionately.

Pyrite touched his tail-tip to her shoulder before moving away to exit the den. The sun was low in the sky, not completely setting, but darkness falling quickly. A sort of wall like structure had been erected outside their camp, no doubt Ochre’s doing. He could see the tortoiseshell smoke ahead, standing defiantly as he spoke to someone a few meters away.

“A whole wall for just one storkie?” He called, causing his adoptive son to balk. The earthen wall dissipated, returning back to the earth. Ochre stepped back, now looking much more afraid. Pyrite stepped in front of him, approaching the unknown stranger. He knew Murk was close behind him, ready to step in at any moment. His gaze roamed over the other storkie, noticing a small bundle on its back.
“Hail.” Said the other storkie. Pyrite couldn’t tell if he was naturally black and gray or caked with soot. “Hail.” He returned with uncertainty, paws growing warm as he subconsciously prepared to use his fire ability. Something about this storkie was offputting. Extremely offputting. Pyrite could see why Whisper had been so scared.

“These are troubled times, sir. Troubled times indeed.” The stranger bent to remove the bundle from his back - it landed on the ground with a squeak and he realised it was a kit. An extremely small, squirming, mewling kit, even smaller than Whisper had been when he had found her. He forced himself to pull his gaze back to the other storkie’s face, and realised with a shock that his eyes were absolutely clear. He’d never heard of a storkie with clear eyes before. What kind of magic was that?

Or… was he perhaps magicless?

“Where is your Colony?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. Their visitor let out a rasping, hissing laugh, so very different to a laugh with warmth, such as Murk’s. “No more.” He said simply. Then he broke off into a series of coughing fits.

A familiar warmth appeared at Pyrite’s side. “He’s a psycho.” Murk said bluntly to him, under his breath. “I’m losing my patience.” He whispered back to his mate. “But just give him a minute. He’s intriguing.”

When the other cat had recovered, the leader of their small Colony stepped forward. “What do you want?” He questioned. Seeming to brighten, the haggard storkie landed a heavy kick onto the kitten at its feet, causing the two smaller storkies to cry out. He heard Whisper let out a little sob and his ears flattened as flame began to flicker in whisps across his mane. Murk unsheathed his claws and stepped forward. “Are you insane?” The lynx point shouted. The kit was whimpering helplessly. The hostile stranger cackled.

“Take it.” He barked. “Take the wretched thing. The offspring of scum, that’s all it is. The fruit of power-hungry devils.”

Flame burst from Pyrite like water from a geyser. A column erupted high, heat searing the air. It was aimed upwards, and was only meant to be large and hot enough scare the gaunt storkie away - and boy did it do its job wonderfully. The once confrontational feline let out a yelp and quickly began to backtrack both verbally and physically. The marble tabby let out another puff of fire and he shrieked and fled, soon becoming a fast-hobbling spot on the horizon.

There was a long pause, before Pyrite turned to Murk with a crooked grin and a puffed up chest. “Pretty cool, huh?” He said to him with a smirk. His mate sighed at him with a small smile, opening his mouth - but was once again cut off by a bundle of silver and white fur that dashed through the middle of them.

Whisper curled around the small, pale-coloured kit, which mewled and cried helplessly once more. She cooed softly, trying to calm it down, running her tongue along its pelt. “Its fur is so spiky,” She murmured, looking up at Pyrite with her big, green, childish eyes, “like bramble.”

“Bramble,” Murk said softly from behind him. “Y’know, I kinda like that.” He looked down at the kit, which squeaked as it was fussed over. Ochre crept closer too. “I’m not one to accept gifts from cats with the crazies,” The lynx point continued, before his voice softened, “But I guess an exception can be made.” He glanced to the side to meet Pyrite’s gaze. “What do ya think?”

Pyrite felt his chest grow warm, but it certainly wasn’t his fire ability this time. He nodded.

[mystoxxiide]

Username; mystoxxiide
Storkie Name; bramble
Nicknames; bram
Coat Description: lilac/cream calico with irregular white
Gender: nonbinary (fae/faer)
Born Magic Type; faunal
Additional Magic #1 -
Additional Magic #2 -

Parents:
Founder | Founder

Children:
-- with whisper
- muddle
- arson