good kid [C]

Rowanpaw

 
Weightless drops of water collected around Rowanpaw's mouth and in the fur of his chin. Held gingerly but securely between his teeth was a sizable ball of moss, pulled off a beech tree. It was still a bit damp, growing too close to the peaty ground to avoid when the standing water rose or was splashed against it, but it was dry enough– and had dried further during the return to camp –to be used. Twistpool's nest had recently been redone, and he thought those in the nursery had to. It may not get practical use, but it would keep some kit busy until tiny claws shredded it to pieces.

Nearing the large den, Rowanpaw drew to a halt. He was hesitant to actually enter the den– he was hesitant with kits entirely, really. It was fun, that they could keep up with his energy, but rarely did he know what they were talking about or wanted. By the time he did, they would be moving into the apprentice den soon anyway.

As he searched the space in front of the nursery, hoping to catch one of the kits outside, he was lucky to find one: definitely looked old enough to not be hovering by the nursery, dark look staining his face. Rowanpaw didn't think he'd ever seen a kit look so furious before. Dropping the ball of moss, Rowanpaw gave it a gentle bat and watched it roll leisurely across the sand until it stopped at Sunkit's paws.

"Greetings," he purred as the moss ball slowed to a stop. "So odd, seeing a kit sit completely still– and silent. I am surprised you are not attempting to talk some poor warrior's ears off." Rowanpaw sat down gracefully, and his tail draped smoothly over his paws. "You must be immeasurably bored. Care if I ask after your name, should I stay to entertain you?" He was smiling, soft but mischevious, and his voice was warm and easy. He had no patrols or training left for the day; he could take the time out of it to give an upset kit some company and entertainment.

Sunkit had been, as he often is these days, completely lost in thoughts that left his face scowling as he traveled down increasingly dark and upsetting thought paths. It seemed to be something he just couldn’t stop himself from doing these days, the moment he was free to be left to his own devices and thoughts.

The soft pompf of a moss ball hitting his paws made him blink once, twice, head moving to look at it as his paw instinctively went atop it, holding the little ball of squishy moss down and staring at it with idle curiosity. Big green eyes lifted to look up at the apprentice in front of him. Sunkit didn’t know his name, but he knew he looked far too old to still be in the apprentice’s den, much like how Sunkit was far too old to still be in the nursery.

The apprentice spoke with a smooth, measured tone, using words that reminded Sunkit a little of Rookkit, with all the fancy flourishes that Sunkit only understood about half the time. Only, with Rookkit it felt more like the big words were delivered matter-of-factly, never really delivered with a flourish but more of a to-the-point bluntness. This tom spoke like he was telling a story. Sunkit kind of liked it.

“Sunkit,” He said absently, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what was it about the tom that was bugging him as well. “That’s my name.” And then it hit him as he realized what he was remembering, and of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before?! Suddenly a big smile broke out across the previously-stormy face of the ginger tom as he leapt to his feet.

“You came back with the captured cats, didn’t you? I remember you!” Sunkit leapt to his feet, a determined flash in pale green eyes as he circled around Rowanpaw with a lashing tail. “What’s your name?” That’s only polite to ask, of course, but Sunkit is already barreling ahead, “And, more importantly, wherever the twolegs took you, did you see my parents?” He had practically pounced on Rowan now, mossball forgotten as he moved close. He knew it was perhaps crossing a line to ask about something like this, but he was beyond caring. He just needed information.

“My mother’s name is Darkpelt and my father is Brightmoon,” Sunkit said, still walking in rapid circles around Rowanpaw. “She’s a big brown tabby and he’s a little ginger, his fur looks just like mine. You probably remember them, you're old.” Finally his circling ceased until he was just in front of Rowanpaw, staring up at him with a twitching tail.  “So? Did you see them?”

Rowanpaw

Rowanpaw nodded slowly as the kit introduced himself, squishing down the moss ball. He seemed to be thinking about something… and then Sunkit was leaping to his paws, whatever sour mood he’d been in forgotten as he abandoned the moss ball, trotting circles around Rowanpaw instead. The apprentice twisted around to watch, blinking slowly as the kit paced and fired off as many questions as he could. His brow furrowed initially (and did again at the idea that he was old), but it was hard to be cross when Sunkit was only looking for his family.

“First of all, you may call me Rowanpaw.” He answered first, still grinning. “And yes, I did come back with those captured, though I suppose I do not excel in subtlety regarding it.” When he shifted his paws, his bell chimed softly against his chest as if on cue. His jaw parted again, but when he looked down at Sunkit, he paused. Oh, stars blast it. Rowanpaw’s ears flicked downwards briefly. The poor ball of fur looked so excited.

Slowly, like he was thinking the words as he spoke them, Rowanpaw went on, “I do remember them, though I was not close with them. Unfortunately, they… were not at the nest to which I was taken. I apologize for inviting your company then delivering such bad news.” Rowanpaw tried to laugh, hoping to alleviate at least some of the expected hurt. He couldn’t imagine losing Poppyshine at that age, and gradually losing reasonable hope she’d come back.

Sunkit’s eyes darted to the collar around Rowanpaw’s neck as Rowanpaw drew attention to it, and his ears flickered at the jingle. The noise made Sunkit’s pupils expand briefly, as his mission was briefly forgotten for a moment as he felt a kittish urge to bat at the bell. His eyes however returned to Rowanpaw’s face as he spoke again, and then his ears were flicking downwards.

It didn’t come as a surprise to get no news, but that didn’t make the hurt feel better.

Sunkit slowed in his spinning circles until he stopped completely, tail twitching. Well, back to square one then. That’s okay, he was used to square one. He shook out his fur and lifted his head to look up at the big russet tom in front of him. “It’s okay.” He said, offering a shrug. “I was just wondering.”

Shaking off familiar disappointment like water from his fur, Sunkit turned around and batted the mossball back to Rowanpaw’s… well, paws. “I will take you up on that offer of entertainment though!” Sunkit grinned up at Rowanpaw. “If you’re still willing.” He finds himself kind of unconsciously mimicking Rowanpaw’s fascinating speech patterns.