Fresh Air [c]

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

The night was warm with a slightly breeze and the cats of Windclan were sleeping soundly in their nests. All but one. Nectarflower, legs twitching, opened her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. Yet another nightmare of Weaselfoot had haunted her throughout the night, making in impossible for her to sleep. She looked up, eyes blown wide as she swung her head from left to right, searching for Weaselfoot.

Was he okay!? Was it all just a horrible dream? Her gaze landed on the spot where Weaselfoot's nest had been, and her heart dropped. Where her closest friend and favorite clanmates had once slept, a new nest had been constructed and in it, one of her other clanmates. Right - Weaselfoot was gone, how could she forget?

Nectarflower heaved a sigh and got up, her joints aching as she struggled to her paws. She had been feeling a little off as of late and had been meaning to see the medicine cat about it but hadn't found the time yet. Maybe she would go tomorrow, when everyone was awake.

Regardless, there would be no more sleep for the tortoiseshell she-cat tonight - not after the awful things she had seen in her nightmares. so, Nectarflower picked her way around the sleeping bodies of her clanmates and padded toward the nursery. She would be a fool to disturb the queens and kits at this time of night.

Rather, she was headed toward her old secret garden. It was a little space beside the nursery where Nectarflower used to craft her little flower bundles as a kit. She could use one of those right about now.

Gender: Female
Rank: T2 Warrior

Nectarflower was lost in thought, her eyes locked on a nearby rock. It had seemed so much larger when she was a kit and even as an apprentice but now, it was a little disappointing. She was surprised to see a few feathers still pinned beneath the rock, the only evidence that she had once played in this little corner of the camp. It had been a haven for young Nectarkit and standing here now, as a warrior, was so surreal. Maybe it was because everything looked bigger as a kit...?

Either way, Nectarflower was disheartened to stand here now and feel a little let down. Her secret little spot was definitely too little for her now, not that a grown cat should be hiding in the tall grass playing with feathers and silly little plants anyway. She frowned, then reached out for the rock, trying to push it to the side to get to the weathered feathers underneath.

They were dusty little things, much smaller than the remembered, but they were from simpler times so the young warrior wanted them regardless. Finally, she succeeded in getting to the tiny treasures and with them secured, leaned back to examine them. These feathers, though forgotten for moons and a little battered, brought a little comfort to Nectarflower's crumbling world.

A war with Shadowclan, a gathering gone wrong, both Windclan's leader and medicine cat stepping down, and to top it all off, Weaselfoot's death. It all seemed like too much to handle for the tortoiseshell she-cat. Sometimes, she wished she could just curl into a little ball and sleep forever. Sometimes, she was tempted to. If it wasn't for the sinking fear that she was carrying kits, she might have already.

Nectarflower, completely wrapped up in her thoughts, didn't notice the kit approach until his mouth opened, voice breaking through the silent greenleaf night. She whirled around, startled, but slowly relaxed as she recognized the small body of one of Sootstorm's and Ferntwist's kits. "Oh, I'm sorry...you frightened me."

Her ears flattened slightly as confusion washed over her. What was a young kit like him doing out of the nursery so late? Nectarflower smiled, though it was a weak thing, and leaned down, getting on the kit's level. "What's your name, little one?"