Submission (#2884) Approved

There’s not much on this planet that chews up Citron’s comfort and spits it back out at him, but he’s well aware that many kittoms his age still fell for the faerie tales spread like a wildfire from adult to child. He recalls this old legend that his grandparents shared, one that used to terrify his younger sister. A sinister smirk, little paws padding through the lush grass of Faerindell. Not all trees that were within region had the stereotypical brown wood though, and in the lore… That witch had a mask made up of birch wood, white as snow. The surprise on his face when that same wood showed in his peripherals, trotting towards the bark and sliding a nail between two loose pieces to break a chunk off. He repeats this, up until he has a decent pile and tucks it inside of his pouch.

The walk to his current resting place is that of a short one, and once at the carved wooden door, he doesn’t bother knocking to alert Haru or Eos. Without missing a beat, Citron skips on over and sits on the windowsill. Pulling out the extra pieces, he’s already working out a mask shape that’s tailored to his face. Piece by piece, layer by layer, he works at it for thirty straight minutes, only stopping when he runs out of glue. His hard work pays off though, and the mask is rather impressive. All he needs now is a white cape, then the outfit would be complete. Good thinking that Eos had always brought that blanket with her, so that it could be a makeshift costume. Hurriedly running towards the closet, the cloth is yoinked from it’s folded position and tied around his neck. A glance to the mirror, and Citron thinks that he looks stunning. This would certainly creep his sister out, which was the goal!

With no bother to the two that remained in the house, the kit rushes by without so much as a second glance, or a proper goodbye. Haru's ears perk up, but she dismisses it, noting that it most likely was that flea. Huddling closer to Eos, both girls grow relaxed in their placement on the couch, enjoying the current movie on display. Citron heaves, trying to catch his breath after some time. His chest rising and falling rapidly, lungs aching from that held breath that he couldn't seem to drop right away. Various houses scattered on the block distracted him from his original goal, and he promises himself that after he dazzles the locals and receives so much candy his bag would burst, he would find his sister. Knocking on door to door with the other children in tow, pearly whites flash in a wide smile when the adults congratulated him on his very impressive costume, However, they were playing into it a little too well, coming off as unintentionally condescending, unfortunately. His lower lip pulls into a flat line, holding the bag out for treats to be depositied in, and then walks towards the next house in line. The same motions occur, where they insist his costume is amazing and totally scary, and for some reason... It makes frustration burn up in his chest. He knows the legend isn't real, so why were these people treated him as if he were a naive little child who didn't know any better?

After the final piece of candy for the block is received, he slings the sack over his shoulder and walks away with a huff. They really just babied him, huh? Well, whatever! His descent from the grassy hills and towards the eldertree is a slow paced one, contrasting his giddy demeanor earlier. Those folks unfortunately shattered his veil of excitement and confidence, and now he was beginning to doubt his ability to scare off Jelany. What if she was completely unaffected? How embarrassing would that be! A tongue pokes out between both cuspids in a 'bleh" fashion, eyes blinking harshly for a moment. He takes notice of his sister almost immediately, donned in a simple witch robe and hat. Citron drops the sack of sweets a bit further, and continues his approach to the pink kit. His body is slow, yet silent, before he lowers himself to the ground and pounces to knock Jelany over from the back. A gutteral growl is managed, eyes reflecting from the moonlight that all you could see were two green orbs peering right back at you. A shriek rips through her throat, and in one last attempt to save herself, she rapidly fires kicks at his stomach. Toppling over, Citron wheezes with a laugh. Not only were the townsfolk wrong, but his kin was so scared.

"Ahah, Jel, you should'a seen the look on your face!"