When Moss Meets Bears

After about a moon of being in the camp, Mosskit had started to venture out of the nursery to explore her surroundings. The cold chill still hung in the air, but she wasn't about to let that prevent her exploration. Besides, she didn't think she could ever be as cold as she was when she had been found in that snowbank by her mother. Her tail tip twitched excitedly as she called out to Falconwing and her sister, Lilykit.

"I'm going out to play!"

Mosskit hurried out of the nursery in case her mother started to protest, and after pushing her way through the brambles surrounding the entrance she blinked in the brightness of the leaf-bare sunlight. After a brief pause, she begins to make her way through the camp, taking care not to get underfoot the larger warriors as they went about their days. As she blinked in amazement, she took up a watchful position by the elder's den, sitting among the branches of the fallen tree. She surveyed the camp and those in it with quiet amazement for a few minutes, before the cold started to sink through her fur. Standing and stretching, she bushed her pelt out and found a small ball of moss, which she started to bat around with her paws. Throwing herself into her game in an effort to get warm, it wasn't until she ran up to the moss ball she had tossed a little ways from her that she noticed it was now sitting at the paws of a cat she did not recognize. The kit skidded to a stop, trying to twist as to not run right into the other cat, and finally came to a halt, finding herself laying on her side staring up at the tom. She quickly scrambled up to her paws, and her head lowered as she mewed, embarrassed.

"I-I'm so sorry.... I didn't see you there...."

Another meal was spent in quiet resignation. The bulky warrior ate what little scraps were gathered between his paws, head low, hovering just above his forepaws. As various clanmates passed, he was met with a few friendly words of greeting which were responded to with weary half-nods. Although the air seemed to have heated a few degrees in comparison to the previous numbing gale, there was still a particular chill that fluffed up his coat. Beartooth was ignorant of his fact. His blank gaze fixated on the spaced between his abnormally misshapen paws. Stomach churning, his elongated fangs grazed the fur of his lower jaw. There was a mixture of gnawing hunger and the lack of desire for food that came in several waves of pangs that mildly discomforted him. Even so, he gave no outward reflection of the affliction other than the slight stirring of his paws.

This was all interrupted by the sight of a dried, green moss ball as it was tossed into him. One ear flicked and his gaze drifted upwards with a mild recognition of the kit the tumbled up to him. His brain couldn't conjure up her name and he did not spend much time doing so. There was a flicker of thought as he considered that his own kin had just recently been in the nursery where this kits resided. But he had barely been involved with Sharptooth's kits since bringing them to the clan, despite his former mentor's suggestion. Beartooth stared at her for a moment and eventually blinked slowly, "It's okay, kit." The tom's expression, marred by the many scars that crossed it, barely changed. However, there was a softness to his gruff voice.

Mosskit lifted her head, peering up at the tom.She quickly shakes her pelt out and sits, her expression shifting from embarrassment and hesitation to one of curiosity. Her voice still hesitant, she speaks again. "I..I'm Mossk-kit. I... don't think I've met you yet...

Her head tilted slightly as she looked at him, taking in his features. "W..what's your name?.. Are you a...." Her face scrunched as she thought of what Falconwing had told her. After a brief moment, her eyes lit up as she recalled the word. "A warrior?" Mosskit smiled, rather pleased with herself for being able to remember.

His head tilted only slightly as he watched her. The hesitation was obvious. He found his whiskers twitching while he waited for a response. With his shoulders still hunched, the tom considered for a moment that he was not aggravated with her lack of a response, and found himself enjoying the comfortable silence. Beartooth peered at her over the bridge of his torn-up nose and features. As she finished, there was almost a hint of a smile across his expression. Like Ridgepaw. After a moment, he nodded slowly, "I'm Beartooth." As he spoke, the elongated fangs grazed against his lower lip as if exaggerating his given warrior name.

She blinked up at him, noticing the scars and the fangs that protruded from his mouth. Instead of frightening her though, it seemed to only heighten her curiosity. "Y-you seem nice, Beartooth. Would you like to be my friend? We can play together! I-if you have time, that is. I'm sure you're busy.." Disappointment clouded her face as the thought of the tom being too busy to spend time with her crossed her mind.

She tentatively reached a small paw out towards the moss ball, delicately scooping it closer to her. As she did, she noticed Beartooth's paws and her eyes widened. She looked up to the tom and back down, her tail tip twitching in excitement. "You have such big paws! They must be the biggest in the forest! You must be great at making moss balls, and doing all kinds of things!" She lifted one of her paws, stumbling a little as she did so before regaining her balance. After examining it for a moment, she set it down and it sunk into the snow with a soft ploof. "I wish I had bigger paws. All I can do is make these small balls out of the moss..." She trailed off with a look of disgust at the pitifully tiny scrap of moss that she had pressed into a ball to play with. Suddenly realizing that she had said everything out loud, she felt her face get hot and she bowed her head, staring at the ground. "I'm sorry... I'm probably bothering you... You just seem really nice and... And... I just... I'm sorry.." She frowned down at her paws, and shuffled them around in the snow.