↞Sun Kissed Kit↠

Patroclus

tagged by: @abyssal-tide​

Azzy makes a flower crown of alstroemerias, ivy and mums, placing it over Wren's snoot

Send a Symbol to Give my Muse Meme// Open

□: a flower crown

     Opening his golden orange eyes, the once-sleeping kit’s fuzzy gaze tries to focus on the colorful ring of what appears to be flowers around his snout, pointing his ears forward as he investigates. Looking around the immediate area, Wren spots his dear friend, and then back to his snout, the arrangement of flowers. The gift, he notes, looks like the crowns of flowers they usually wear on their head-- crowns Wren always remarks on how much he likes, and is always surprised by the creativity of Azrael with their creations. Az made this for him, didn’t they? Surely, why else would he be waking up with it around his snout. How kind of the blond, Wren thinks...And with some of his favorite flowers, too!

 “You made this?”

 Standing on all four paws, and after a quick stretch, Wren pins his ears back and to the side, wagging his twin tails happily as the horse-sized fox kit approaches Azrael. Although the crown is around his snout, it is far from a muzzle, so the Cinder kit is more than able to playfully and affectionately lick the blond, running his pinkish tongue over their face.

 “I love it! It’s perfect!”

  With happy whines escaping from his throat, the over-sized puppy of a fox nudges the other playfully with his snout before rolling over unto his back, exposing his fluffy, cream colored under belly, His tails wagging away, it’s clearly an invitation for affection.

Excuses. The same excuses.

No matter how many times this lesson comes up, it seems it’s quickly forgotten. This flea infested mutt pounces or scares her darling, she arrives, he spits his feeble pleas, she lets him off with a warning, rinse and repeat. Kalithys truly does not have time to waste on a creature who will be nothing but a blink in existence; but this is for the sake of her youngest. Earth may be the least dangerous planet she has found, yet for an Abyssal as young as Azrael, it is enough.  

Quite frankly, if it weren’t for Azrael’s attachment to Wren, the Vulpine would be erased from existence. His family would not be spared either. Alas, she rarely ever denies her child, and this time will be no different. Wren is merely a fluffy toy, waiting to be discarded. She muses, reminding herself Azrael was not in danger. Merely startled.

Keeping her burning gaze, Kalithys’s hand whips around the kit’s head. Claws sink into dirt-stained fabric, bunching into her palm. With a strength no human woman her ‘age’ would ever have, Wren rises with her as she straightens again. Eye to eye, multiple snarls rumble in her throat, “I think I think,” she starts, allowing the multiple pitches to echo, “the next time you play with my child the next time you play with my child. You will pay for your actions you will pay for your actions.”Snaking her other hand in, Kalithys keeps a vice grip on the poor kit’s chin. With every emphasis, she gives a little squeeze, a reminder of her power. “Every time I am called upon every time I am called upon, I will take a piece of you I will take a piece of you. Until there is nothing left until there is nothing left.”

Her hands spring open, letting them fall by her side.

She says nothing else.

     A high pitched yelp escapes the kit’s lips as he hoisted upwards, cringing as he feels the woman’s grip tighten. This is it, he thinks-- she’s going to eat him. probably in a single bite. She had warn the boy on many occasions to not stalk her child, his best friend, as it almost always spooked the blond so. Even though, in Wren’s defense, Azrael /was/ an easy target for his play pouncing. Still, the kit should have seen this interaction coming-- he should have seen this dangerous encounter coming a mile away, and yet, he didn’t. Cunning he may be, the kit is only a child, and so causes mischief like one. He just hopes his daily adventures today won’t be his last. Foxes really don’t taste good, anyway, he tells himself.

 With fear seeping into the boy, he brings his limbs close to his body, ears back and eyes wide as the Abyssal speaks, noting how scary she sounded with the echoed voices. She would take pieces of him? Until nothing remains? Why, the thought sounded /terrifying/ to the Cinder kit. It’s not like there was much of him to take to begin with-- he’s so lanky after all. It would barely take any time for Kalithys to completely erase him, and he knows that. So Wren dares not to speak a word, only allowing pitiful whines to escape his throat as he hopes and prays this is actually only a warning.

fill this with what you most associate with your muse in each of these — some slightly unusual — categories !

spice: Cinnamon

weather: Sun shine

colors: Red, orange, ash brown, earthy gray, gold

colors of the sky: Fiery red, bright orange, bright pink, dark blue

pokémon type: Fire and Ghost or Normal

magical power: Fire magic, Illusion magic, Shapeshifting

shoe: Old sneakers

houseplant: Peace lily

blade weapon: Dagger

school subject: Biology

social media: Instagram, Tiktok, Twitter 

makeup product: None

candy: Hot Tamales or Cinnamon Disks

tangible fear:  Being alone

ice cube shape: Cube

method of long-distance travel: Fox form, horse back, bus

art style: 18th century retro style

historical period: Medieval

mythological creature: Kitsune

piece of stationery: Leather back notebook

three emoji combination:   🦊  🌿  🔥

celestial body:  Alnilam

rom-com archetype: Overly-excited but Well-Meaning Kid or the Dog (lmao)

Tagged by: @iruludavare

 “Are you sure? It looks painful,”

     A slight cringe forms on the kit’s face, as all he can focus on at the moment is the streak of red on the other boy’s face. A little cut or not, where it to become infected it, it would surely give the blond problems, especially considering their proximity to the wilderness. Not to mention, humans, regardless of how much they train and prepare themselves, are always quite squishy, and susceptible to infections and the like, Wren thinks. The kit would feel much better if the other would at least dress his wound with something, or maybe even wash it.

 Thinking that perhaps there is some he can help, the fox boy reaches into the pouch at his hip, digging in the cloth bag, clearly looking for something. A few more beats of Wren rummaging through his things, and his expression lifts and his ears perk forward-- he seems to have found what he had been digging for.

 “Here,”

 He takes a few steps forward, a small glass jar in his clawed hands, about the size of his palm. Holding out the jar with a seemingly greenish-looking ointment inside, he speaks again, his tone confident and reassuring.

 “My mother taught me how to make this. It’s a cream with healing properties. It should fix that cut right up in no time!”

     A sigh of relief escapes the boy’s lips, relaxing his once-stiff posture. He was sure the blond boy would still be quite furious with him, since there had been quite the haul of fish in the basket, and it had definitely taken him a while to catch them all. That being said, Wren’s instincts as a fox are to never turn down an easy snack, especially when it seemed unguarded. But even though the other boy apparently wasn’t angry at him anymore, the kit still had a feeling of guilt swell in his gut. It was around lunch time, after all. and the other boy was probably wanting lunch as much as Wren was wanting more lunch...So he knew he needed to make this right, despite the blond’s forgiveness.

 “Well, I guess I shouldn’t have eaten your whole basket, either,”

 The kit had known it belonged to someone, as it’s not just like baskets of food spawn randomly in the forest. Plus, he could smell the strangers scent on and around the basket, though Wren would keep that information to himself. But the boy’s expression is soon to light up-- perking his ears forward, a confident smile on his lips.

 “But don’t worry-- I’ll get you twice as many fish as I took!”

 And with that, the boy springs forward, fire magic suddenly forming around him, enclosing him in a sort of magical sphere. A few seconds later, the large fiery ball ‘breaks’ open, a very different creature landing on all fours with a small thud.

 “I’ll be back in two seconds!”

     A small but notable pout forms on Wren’s face at the other’s answer. Of course he knew the man was right-- the kit had never lived a war himself, but he knew they weren’t nice things to experience. Especially with humans, he thinks, as they always tend to resort to the worst kinds of violence instead of perhaps finding a peaceful way to coexist. Still, Wren is only a child, and so does not really understand the gravity of such heavy subjects, or at least that’s what most adults tend to say to him. It just seems like, to the Cinder kit, that there are better solutions that just fighting your enemy until one or the other gives, especially over some of the silly things humans fight over...

 So he pins his ears back and curls his tail around himself, wrapping his arms around his legs as he sits on his haunches. 

 “Well, I knew that, obviously...”

 “But how could you say it’s worth it. I don’t think any amount of death from your kinds’ wars would be worth it,”

 Wren frowns, finally turning his head to look at the red-headed stranger. There is sadness in his voice and gaze, perhaps hinting he had personally experienced what he had to say next.

 “Sh!”

     The half-shushed hush is all the boy could think to say as he tried to get the stranger he seems to have rescued to be quite. While he understand why she would be confused, now was just no time to be chatting-- he knew her attacker would circle back soon, and the last thing they needed was to make it easier to be located. Sitting atop of the stranger he had tackled down moments earlier, Wren’s black tipped ears perk forward, his golden eyes working in unison with his ears and other senses to desperately try and tell just where their attackers might be, and if they really do circle back like he suspects, then just where they are in their circle in relation to them.

 A minute or so passes, and he’s unable to hear foot and hoof steps anymore, signaling that it’s probably safe to start moving, although carefully.

 “Those were Rouges that just attacked you,”

 The kit’s voice is low and quite, but his tone is unsually serious. As much as he hates it, it’s not like he just prevent whoever from stumbling across his forest, and unfortunately, it’s usually people who mean more harm than good.

 “They go through here and look for anything that looks valuable. They’ll rob and plunder, or poach rare animals and plants, or whatever they think they can make money or a profit off of...”

 The kit’s tone is rather melancholy, remembering all the instances these dreadful men had pillaged his and other’s home for a quick buck. He removes his weight from the stranger, sitting beside her.

 “They probably targeted you for your fancy gear, if I had to guess. And they’ll target me for my hide,”

 Wren pins his ears back and lowers his brow, looking off to the side.

 “Huh?”

     Twitching slightly from the sudden feeling of something touching his leg, Wren is snapped out of his daze, his ears back as his golden eyes dark at the ground, looking for whatever had grazed him. Had the kit been in a more frantic or upset state of mind, he would have jumped at such abrupt contact, but luckily he was calm enough at the moment to hold back such a reaction. That, and the touch he felt was quite small, and light-- perhaps an insect had landed on him, and then flew off. Or maybe even a lose piece of shrubbery... Either way, the boy still investigates, and it doesn’t take long for the boy to find who-- or what--, had poked him.

 Although Wren had no clue what kind of species this little creature was, he could sense he need not be afraid of it, but rather this little one seemed to be the one afraid. Clearly it was nervous, perhaps stumbling upon him in it’s efforts to find where it came from. It’s not like it’s uncommon to see creatures get lost or off track in this forest, so he assumes this to be true for the little sandy-colored critter at his feet.

 “Oh, hi there, little guy.”

 Folding his ears back benevolently, Wren smiles at the shrew-like creature, kneeling down so that he comfortably sat on his haunches, much closer to it’s level than his own. He wraps his long tail around himself and partially around the other, as well, wagging the white tip around every once in a while.

Send a Symbol to Give my Muse Meme// Open

□: a flower crown

     Feeling a foreign and unexpected weight on his head, the kit pins his ears to the side and slightly back. He notes the almost scratchy feeling of the object on the crown of his head, almost like leaves, petals, or even perhaps small thorns tickling his scalp. He could decipher immediately it wasn’t a hat of some kind placed on him, as it was much too light, and minimal feeling on his head. A few sticks? Perhaps a nest? A crown of sorts, for whatever reason? If it is a crown, then it is much softer and much more comfortable than the traditional crowns made of gold and such, he notes.

 Curious, the boy reaches up the feel the source of his confusion on his head, and is happy to confirm his suspicions. He doesn’t even need to remove the item to know the feeling of stems, petals and leaves against his clawed finger tips-- they are unmistakable, like the smell of fresh honey, or even a rotting carcass. The kit feels the flowers around the crown of his head, noting the weaves of the stems with his fingers. Clearly, whoever gave him such a nice little gift knows what they’re doing with such a craft! He must thank this stranger, or strangers, immediately, the fox thinks.

 Standing from his sitting position, the boy does a quick look-around, perking his ears forward in search of the giver and presumed maker of such a well-made and appreciated accessory. Once the person of interest had been located--a girl, he notes--, the Cinder kit smiles in gratitude, his ash brown tail wagging behind him.

 “Did you make this?”

 He points to his apparently beloved crown.

"See? Right there!" Following along where the blonde points, there lay a massive tree. Judging by the amount of moss, mushrooms and rotting bits caved in, it must have been there for ages.

And to top it all off, what looks to be half a deer carcass slumped over, it too infected with mushrooms.

     Wren cocks an eyebrow at his friend’s sudden enthusiasm over something, his orange ears pinning back as the fellow non-human drags the fox across the forest. Clearly Azrael seems excited over whatever they want to so desperately show him, and Wren, trusting the blond deeply, is sure the source of such excitement is worth the hype. However, Wren also notes that what himself and what his dear friend view as neat or interesting can vary, so, that being said, the Cinder kit does have a dash of skepticism.

 “Huh-? What is it?”

 And yet such a feeling is immediately gone as soon as golden eyes are set on what the other had been hyping up. Wren runs curious eyes from moss-covered branches to the old yet huge and withered roots, noticing how the grass and shrubbery had reclaimed most of them. Wren smells the remains of the deer far before he finally sees them-- taking into account the mushrooms sprouting over the animal’s corpse. 

 Looks like he will have to figure something else out for lunch, but no worries.

 An excited ‘come on!’ escapes the boy’s lips, only giving Azrael maybe a few seconds to actually register what he had hollered before dashing forward, breaking free of the other child’s grip easily in his excitement. A wagging tail trialing behind him, Wren approaches the old hunk of mossy lumber, placing clawed hands on it’s bark so gently that one might think the tree were a fragile, old man. Wren can feel the tree-- he can feel it has been through at least 10 of his younger life times, and that it has seen many things. But despite it’s age, the kit can tell it’s far from dead or dying. This brings him reassurance, since it’s likely the health of the entire forest is thriving despite it’s overgrown nature.

 Finally turning to look at his friend, the kit speaks.