An Inky Pine [closed for Bun]

Blacktwig was worried for Pinewhisker. His friend had been acting inexplicably seclusive, and he figured that it had something to do with his sisters. Ever since their birth, Blacktwig had been more practical. The older brother, the one who was fettered with responsibility. Sheepnose, as a kit, was always diagnostic. Her fluffy white fur was no more than a veil to her inner, cold self. But one fateful day, she changed. Somehow, when Emberkit was born, she was sharp-tongued, witty, and often annoying to Blacktwig. He had to admit that the russet she-cat hadn't changed much as she had grown, but she was different now. Her three young kits, Markedkit, Amberkit, and Cypresskit, were astonishingly ambrosial. They were too innocent for the quarrels that Pinewhisker and Emberheart often indicated.

But yesterday was different.

Today, Blacktwig was lounging about, and he walked out of the warriors' den. He felt the algid white snow sting his pads, and he gritted his teeth. He sat down, a single snowflake landing on his nose. He watched Pinewhisker, but his eyes often darted away from the brown tom. He seemed too agonized to look at. But this was what Blacktwig was here for, wasn't it? He needed to help his friend out.

Pinewhisker lounged in the shade of a camp corner, his eyes dark and focused on an invisible point between his slender paws. He couldn't quite tell whether he was mad at Emberheart or not, but he was definitely annoyed. About her break-down, he didn't even want to think of it. The kits must be terrified. Or at least sad... he thougt, shrugging sadly at the thought of his former apprentice snatching Markedkit from his jaws. He wished deeply to just go and play with the three she-kits, but the queen was constantly caring for them, althought in a manner he greatly disliked. What he needed right now was someone who did not take part into that, and the chocolate warrior spotted the help just on its way.

"Blacktwig. Glad to see you, friend." he meowed drily, calling the jet black tomcat to him in the shaded corner. His fur was cold but he did not hesitate to give his best friend a spot besides him in the cover, even if that meant he was getting himself half back in the snow. He just needed his friend right now, that was al that mattered. Both him and Blacktwig had gone through tragedy their whole lives, and he seeked the wisdom of the senior. Pienwhisker realized almost in surprise that his friend was old, much older than him. He could remember his speckled dark coat amongst the other cats when himself, Fadedlight, his sister, and Mossfoot had been apprenticed.

"Good to see you, Pinewhisker," purred Blacktwig, but his ears pricked up, seeing the distraught expression that settled in the depths of Pinewhisker's green, green eyes. He felt a lump in his throat, but he swallowed it down, until the only debris of his anxiousness was the phantom of a timorous smile. He tore his tail from its unmoving spot in the ground, and it swished shakily. "What's up?" he asked, noticing that look that his friend often had when something was... wrong. Oh, StarClan, prayed Blacktwig, please don't let it be something having to do with my sisters.

He sat there with a reassuring gleam in his violet-blue eyes, remembering the uproar that had been the birth of Sheepnose and Pinewhisker's relationship. He thought that the tumult was over then, but suddenly, Emberkit was born. Now, it was a brawl between Emberheart and Sheepnose—sisters, as a shocking revelation—and Blacktwig, the only brother, was absent at the time when accusations were spat and torment occurred. Sometimes, he felt as if the two she-cats were a pawful, and indeed they were.

The chocolate tom was about to return to his miserable pondering in the company of his best friend, but it was clear that Blacktwig was looking for a conversation. Either that, or her trying to get to something in particular. I know he's my friend, but honestly, if I'm really in the mood... he thought with mild annoyance, shrugging of the jet black warrior's friendly question, as if it were fresh cold snow nagging at his fur. "I'm bugged, can't you see?" Pinewhisker found himself snapping at the older cat with a bit more hrshness than he had intended.