What's going on? [c]

Wrenkit sprawled outside the entrance to the nursery. It was crowded in there, and though she did love spending time with her siblings, it got a little too much from time to time, even for her. She was growing restless however. She wanted to play! But her siblings were napping…And though normally that might not stop her, she didn’t really feel like dealing with a reluctant playmate right now. Besides, it would be nice to get to know more of the warriors around the clan.

She scanned the cats milling about the camp, trying to find sight of a warrior that didn’t look like they were actively in the middle of something. A smirk appeared on her face when her eyes landed on a russet red tom who seemed to be resting. Perfect opportunity. Her eyes narrowed as she watched his tail flick from side to side, and she twitched with the urge to hunt.

Hopping easily to her feet, Wrenkit trotted over. “Hey!” She said, stopping in front of the tom. “I’m Wrenkit. What’s your name? And more importantly, are you busy and will you play with me?” She sank down into a playful crouch, grinning up at Rowansong with bright eyes.

Rowansong

Rowansong had started to relax a little, after Perchstar’s return. A great weight lifted off the Clan with the knowledge that she was safe and well, in camp where she was meant to be. He kept himself busy often still, but he let himself find rest more and more often. It was not yet deep enough into new-leaf for the sun’s warmth to become oppressive, and he was taking the opportunity to enjoy the heat before it killed him under his thicker pelt. It’d started to feel odd, the times he did nothing, even after moons of being mostly sedentary, but he was determined to let himself relax. Rowansong watched over camp idly, tail flicking over the sand.

Then there were little blue eyes surrounded by poofs of black-and-white fur in his face. Rowansong blinked in surprise, leaning back until he registered it was only Wrenkit who’d come to bother him. Even though he hardly knew what to do with or how to talk to kits, their energy was infections. He grinned down at her, ear flicking with amusement when she crouched down, wiggling with excitement. His head tipped left and right, repeated twice, an exaggerated bob as he pretended to think.

“A warrior is kept quite busy, you know. I am sure I ought to be doing something.” He started at a drawl, still looking thoughtful. “Laying in the sun is not particularly difficult work, though. I suppose I am not busy.” Rowansong’s smile grew a little wider, and he slowly lifted a paw until it rested lightly against her side. “I am Rowansong, son of Poppyshine. And–” with a push, he rolled Wrenkit off her paws, snickering under his continued words– “of course I will play with you. I do not think either of our mothers would allow me say no regardless, even if I wished to.”

Wrenkit watched Rowansong’s deliberations like a hawk. The circle of blue of her irises was already beginning to be swallowed up at black, her gaze flicking between Rowansong’s face and his flicking tail as he deliberated his response. Her ears perked up at his introduction, both because of who he named as his mother, and because she wondered if that’s how she should start introducing herself too. It sounded so fancy! “Wrenkit-- daughter of Perchstar.” She bet Willow would totally introduce herself like that.

And then she was shoved, and fell over with a roll, landing on her back. She blinked once, twice, and then an entirely wicked grin spread across her face. Oh, so wrestling is the name of the game? It was SO on. Leaping to her feet with a cackle of delight, Wrenkit wiggled her limbs in preparation, and then leapt forward, bowling right into Rowansong’s side with an aggressive headbutt. She tries not to be too rough with her siblings; Perchstar has had to remind her more than once that while Willowkit is the oldest, Wrenkit is one of the biggest, and her siblings couldn’t always handle the full force of Wrenkit’s energy and strength. Wrenkit never really wanted to hurt anyone, especially not her beloved siblings (even if loved messing with them.)

But this was a fully grown warrior, and a big one at that, and Wrenkit felt like she could totally get away with not holding back.

“You’re Auntie’s son? That makes us like, cousins!” Wrenkit declared as she bounded back again, bouncing from paw to paw and grinning wild at Rowansong. “That means we’re destined to be friends. Especially if you’re good at wrestling. Because I love wrestling.” She wiggles, fluffy tail twitching like wild.