Flint in the Wind [open]

Flintkit walked out of the nursery. He had patented an idea that he was going to beeline directly to the elders' den for a tale. Flintkit hiccuped, tripped, and was left to reconsider that his first plan may have not been so pithy, fuming with embarrassment. Can't a kit take one step without being humiliated? the grey tom wondered. Then, he leapt up, registering his surroundings. First day out... it's my first day out! he thought in awe. He whirled around, and paced a couple of times. Okay... interesting, maybe, but it'll get boring eventually. Flintkit stretched out on the ground.

Acornpelt, giving herself a thorough wash, halted as she heard a small thud near the nursery. She paused her cleaning and glanced towards the origins of the sound to see a small, grey kit laid on the ground, just outside of the gorse walls. The warrior purred with amusement, padding towards the tom. She made her pawsteps slightly louder as to not alert the tom so suddenly that another cat was here. Interrupting Flintkit's new 'luxury,' Acornpelt softly spoke to him. "It's nice outside the nursery, isn't it?"

Ducking out of the shelter of the Elder's den, Brindlewhisker gave herself a brisk shake in hopes of clearing away the lingering traces of drowsiness. Ever since Dewtuft had retired, she often found herself sharing the company of her elderly Clanmates more and more with each turn of the sun. Thankfully emerging in time to see Flintkit's ill-fated attempt to make his way across the nursery, the Deputy found herself heading towards the young tom.

Ears flicking at Acornpelt's kind words directed towards the kit, the brindled she-cat let out a slight chirp of amusement as she settled down nearby the pair. "I constantly used to trip over my own paws," Brindlewhisker hummed, a teasing note overtaking her soft words, "But thankfully I grew into them quickly."