we need kits for nightclan’s next plot! you’ll be doing queen aspen a service <3

these kits aren’t siblings, they have just grown up in the nursery together c:


Badgerkit (trickery) - a black and white tom with green eyes and fur that sticks out at odd angles | a chef. a michelin-starred chef. my god, this young man loves cooking. the nursery is constantly sizzling with delicious smells — or, well, it is in his mind. in reality he’s just sitting in a corner mixing mud and leaves together in a bowl. but ONE DAY, he will be a chef. right now he’s just the menace of the nursery because he’s always pestering the other kits - and the mothers - to taste his horrible food. he cooks when there’s drama; he bakes when he’s scared or stressed; he makes mud cookies for story nights and mud soufflé for clan meetings and passes them around among the warriors. if he has a tight deadline for an order, he’ll often be found in a corner somewhere, frantically mixing batter and sweating. sometimes the medicine den is suddenly missing herbs like rosemary, which would be perfect for garnishing dishes with. he has no idea who took it, though. he has a terror that restaurant critics are going to arrive unannounced and so he thinks every visitor to camp is one. his first question almost every morning, with his fur all mussed up and his eyes still full of sleep, is a panicked, breathless, ‘has the critic arrived yet?’ it’s a perfectly reasonable question to him but no one else has any goddamn idea what he’s talking about. one day, though. one day the critic will arrive. photo! THE BOY, TAKEN BYYYYYY SEN! 

Disciplekit (druid) - a dark grey-black she-cat with stony eyes that blend in with her fur | a general. she controls the nursery with an iron fist, finding fault with everything the other kits do and drilling them daily on cleaning floors, sharpening their claws, and sitting in neat rows for any warrior who walks past. if one steps out of line, she’ll backhand them across the face; a kit in her nursery rarely messes up twice. she speaks to adults like she’s their equal and fully expects to one day have a seat in the loyal guard. she weaned herself early from her mother’s milk, irritated by having to depend on someone else. the perfect soldier, the perfect follower — if you don’t mind being stabbed in the back when she inevitably grows tired of your rule. cold brains, reason, logic, raw force. some would call it bullying. she calls it discipline. disciple’s discipline. photo!

Faminekit (ribs) - a scrawny tan tom with huge, nervous blue eyes that take up most of his face | disciplekit’s nervous helper, the one who would be hurrying behind her with a clipboard and glasses that keep slipping down his nose. he likes to sing beautiful, haunting songs for the nursery, one of the only times he smiles — so long as disciplekit is out. the second she comes back, his eyes go back to staring submissively at the floor. he loves to go swimming, and fancies that he can talk to the bats that live in nightclan’s caves. more than starclan, he really worships the bats and think they give him prophecies. cats joke he has his huge eyes because he’s always staring up at his bat gods in the pitch black for hours on end without moving a muscle. as such, he’s always stiff and sore and you can hear him coming down a hallway because it’s just crack crack crack of his little popcorn bones. photo! (and bonus baby photo) TAKEN BY OUR LORD IAN

if no one takes badger i might take him, i’m in love with him. but don’t let that dissuade you, i do NOT want another cat LMAO