breaking bread, forging bonds [closed for kj and aspen]

"Come along now, Birdsong, Shadepaw. One of you grabbed the quail, right?" The tom, their father, glance between the pair with an expectant look about his features. Measured excitement was taut in his voice, tampered away by the many thoughts running through his mind. It was as promised: Wrenspring was going to take his kits to meet Smokefeather. As they thought, the elder she-was was indeed their kin, just not in the way that he thought. Gnawing at his stomach was the overwhelming urge to to reveal the secret that had burrowed so deeply into his pelt, like a persistent tick. But to do so would only fracture what frail tranquility was afforded to their messy kinship.

He pushed away the idea and turned towards the elder's den where Smokefeather was resting. Patrols had begun to wind down for the day, relieving the trio of the usual bustle that kept their paws busy. Pale sunlight had begun to reside in its nightly cage, resting just barely over the horizon. Through the lithe branches came the dappling luminescence. In his haste, Wrenspring had forgotten his own prey. But it was late for that now, beside the jittering sensation in his chest spurred him onwards to greet the she-cat, "How has your day been, Smokefeather? Anything exciting in the life of the elders?"

As Birdsong and Shadepaw joined them, he turned slightly, voice lowering slightly into a gentle rasp, "You know Smokefeather, kits. She's Ravenclaw's mother."

"I've got it, don't worry, Dad," Shadepaw mewed, voice muffled from the quail held tight in her teeth. Part of her panged with resentment, as her name was called. She was still simply a lowly apprentice. She only had herself to blame, however, because she was the one that asked Vulturecry for an extension on her training.

Finally, though, she figured she was ready. Her moonstone journey had come and passed, now it was up to Wolfstar to grant her her full name. Padding dutifully after her father, she shot a glance at her sister before entering the elders' den. Wrenspring turned to whisper to them, and Shadepaw nodded, placing the quail at the elder molly's paws. "Yes, I know Grandma. I-, uh, we brought you a quail, freshly caught. I hope you enjoy it!" the dark gray apprentice purred, offering a warm smile to Smokefeather.

Birdsong was happy to pad after her father and sister, two cats she would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with. Dad seemed almost excited as he led them toward the elder's den, and though Birdsong was too polite to say so, she wasn't quite sure why. Smokefeather was their grandmother, yes, but she'd been distant and aloof all of Birdsong's life. She'd never been hostile or antagonistic (that, Birdsong reflected bitterly, seemed reserved for Tornshadow) but she'd never been particularly caring, either. She'd been withdrawn from all of her clanmates for moons, as far as Birdsong could tell, though she supposed if half of what was said was true, the elder tortoiseshell had reasons for it. She'd given seasons of service to the clan as a warrior, and that had all been taken from her. If it had been Birdsong forced into retirement, she probably wouldn't have wanted to interact with others and be reminded of it, either.

Still wasn't an excuse for how she treated Tornshadow, though.

She returned Shadepaw's glance with a shrug, slipping into the den behind her sister. "Hi, grandma." She mewed softly.

To hear some of the other warriors speak, Smokefeather wasn't an old cat by any means, but looking at her it would be easy to make that assumption. Dull, stress-patched fur and equally dull eyes gazed up at the trio of cats that entered the elder's den. Her muzzle was flecked with white that Birdsong didn't think had been there earlier in the season, and there was a gingerness to Smokefeather's movements as she pulled herself into a sitting position that most other cats lacked. She smiled, but Birdsong didn't miss that it didn't quite reach her eyes and that there was something almost hesitant about it. She had always looked perpetually tired to Birdsong, and today seemed to be not much different.

"Hello Birdsong, Shadepaw... Thank you." Smokefeather mewed softly, pulling the quail a bit closer. She glanced over at Wrenspring, and shrugged. "Uneventful, thankfully. It's nice of you to visit, though."

"How are you two doing? How's training going?" Shadepaw was Vulturecry's apprentice if Smokefeather remembered correctly... And hadn't Birdsong been given an apprentice of her own? Strange to think she had grandkits that were fully grown and she hardly knew them, the thought sending another pang of regret through her chest.

"Training's going alright. Vulturecry is teaching me all she knows, and I hope to earn my name soon!" Shadepaw replied, smiling. It wasn't entirely a lie... She really didn't know Smokefeather all that well, which was probably her fault in some capacity, but she didn't exactly feel comfortable spilling her heart out in front of her father and grandmother. She didn't know them like she knew Birdsong. Glancing over at her sister, she waved her tail over and brushed it against Birdsong's to seek some comfort from her.

Wrenspring offered the elder a warm and reassuring smile, remembering their conversation from not long before. It was because of that they had all come together, unbeknownst to his kits. After shifting weight between his paws for a few moments, the tom finally decided to settled down and pressed his soft underbelly into the earth. Then, he turned his gaze to the sisters. The pair was so blissfully ignorant to the circumstances of their birth. Often, the warrior considered stuffing away his own feelings to spare them a truth that would inevitably come out. But he could never decide what was more selfish - preserving their happiness and stuffing away his secret, or condemning them to such knowledge.

A low and nearly inaudible sigh escaped the sides of his maw. He turned to Shadepaw, offering her a similar expression to what he had flashed Smokefeather only a moment earlier. Waving his crooked tail, the tom meowed, "You'll get a warrior name soon, Shadepaw, I'm sure of it! Both you and Birdsong will make warriors the other clans will envy... and fear." Wrenspring grinned at his own afterthought as he turned to Birdsong. There was some reservation, he could feel it. A subtle nod came, coaxing the other she-cat to share her own experiences. Surely this would be more than just pleasantries. They were all kin after all.

"That's good." Smokefeather mewed. "You'll be a warrior in no time, I'm sure. Vulturecry is a capable warrior, it's good that she's teaching you what she knows." Her daughter had had a rocky start with Adderflare as a mentor, but she'd turned things around and was a fine warrior that Skyclan could be proud of. Smokefeather didn't doubt that the apprentice would be named a warrior sooner rather than later.

At the briefest of nods from her father, Birdsong settled next to her sister, affectionately pressing her pelt against Shadepaw's dark gray one for a moment. Smokefeather seemed mollified by Shadepaw's answer, but Birdsong remembered the conversations she and her sister had had previously, and knew what Shadepaw wasn't saying. It wasn't her place to tell anyone what Shadepaw had told her in confidence, least of all the grandmother that they hardly knew.

"They're right, you'll make a great warrior... Though I'm unsure who would fear me of all cats." Birdsong agreed with Smokefeather and Wrenspring, lightly nudging her sister's shoulder.