Growing Up [open]

It had been a while since the gathering, though Wildkit hadn’t been born then. The speckled kit stared up at the sky, lying in the open camp, enjoying the slight breeze that ruffled her fur. Her round green eyes traveled down to the fresh-kill pile, but she wasn’t hungry. Wildkit didn’t display much of an appetite. Her days were often used spending time with her father. He was still grieving for Larkflight. Wildkit felt sorry for him, but trying to understand what he felt was like grasping at a mouse a few pawsteps too far away. She knew her mother was dead, and her littermates had never been born, but it was easier to have a dead parent if you never knew them. Still, she felt the prick in her belly often, of not having a mother to go to. She had been weaned on the milk of other queens, and grew up with Smallbean as her father figure. Which was perhaps why she took after his personality, reserved and uncertain. Still lying on the ground, Wildkit tilted her head towards the side, and her body followed, until she was on all fours again. Her ears softly pinned back as another cat approached her, but she said nothing, and waited for them to speak.

In the aftermath of the Gathering, Olivestone had worked her paws off trying to help the Clan that she loved so much try to return to normal. When she wasn't on patrol or hunting, or helping Aspenheart and Softpaw restock their herb stored, she spent time talking to Morningdove, telling her about her day, of interesting things she'd seen or found, of hunts that had gone well or failed spectacularly, and most of all, reassurance about how proud she was of her former apprentice. She didn't know if Morningdove could hear her, though she knew that she couldn't respond even if she could hear, but Olivestone found that even a one-sided conversation with her former apprentice was better than nothing.

Pushing her way out of the medicine den, the deputy caught sight of Wildkit, and she felt a pang of sadness hit her at the memory of Larkflight's passing. Larkflight had been the first warrior whose ceremony she'd conducted, and she knew that all of WindClan was missing the kind she-cat, Smallbean most of all. With a kind smile, she padded over to the kit and asked,
"How's it going, Wildkit?"

Was it pity that caused cats to come up to her? Wildkit didn't mind others, but she wondered. It only took her a moment to identify the cat that walked up to her. Olivestone. Although Wildkit didn't know everyone in the camp - yet - Olivestone was the deputy. It would be a bit rude not to know her. Wildkit brought her gaze up to Olivestone and piped up, "I'm good. As good as I can be." It was a time of recovery and mourning for WindClan, and although Larkflight had survived the battle, she was still mourned with the fallen. Wildkit understood why everyone was exhausted and sad, but she didn't like it. She blinked at Olivestone. "How are you?"

Spotlake padded towards Olviestone and Wildkit. "Hello, how are you two doing?" Spotlake asked, sitting down. Spotlake wanted to make sure that she wasn't butting in on a conversation between her grandkit and the Windclan deputy.

A new scent joined the pair, and Olivestone turned to see Spotlake approaching. She gave a little tail wave of greeting, and with a smile, responded to the questions.
"I'm doing well, especially now that things are returning to normal. It's nice to be able to return to business as usual, now that there's nothing breathing down our necks."

She sat too, being sure to include Spotlake in the conversation. "How about you, Spotlake? How's life treating you?"

Turning back to Wildkit, she asked,
"Since you're almost apprentice age, do you have a mentor in mind?"

Wildkit flicked her ears up as her grandmother approached. Spotlake and Crowspirit had a lot of kids, and that meant she had a lot of uncles and aunts, not that she knew many of them. Her ears twitched back to Olivestone as she deputy asked both Spotlake and her a question. Wildkit sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws, thinking. ”I haven’t really given it much thought. I’m sure you’ll pick someone good, though.” Wildkit was thinking about it now, but she didn’t know many of the warriors, and most of those she knew already had an apprentice.

"Oh I'm doing well! I've been helping kits and queens lately." Spotlake responded.

Fogpaw's paws practically bounced off the ground despite working her tail off under her mentor's orders. Ferretdance was an excellent choice of a mentor, there was no doubt about it that Olivestone made the right choice. At WindClan's finest hour they'd all be well off considering how tight knit they were as a clan. The clan once healing from Starclan's foul corruption would soon mend itself back into fighting shape fending themselves from the struggles ahead. Enough of that chatter - there was plenty work to do in camp.

"How's it going?" Energetic as ever she strode on over towards the trio lounging around together. The apprentice went close to them offering a greeting wave of her striped tail. While she hadn't known them personally they were still her clanmates at heart.