A Leaping Trout [O]

Troutkit watched as warriors hustled and bustled outside. He was about three moons old, too young to be an apprentice but old enough to sit at the entrance of the nursery and at least watch what was going on. Still it was a lot for a kit. He quickly became bored and rolled a mossball back and forth under his paw. With a loud sigh, he looked back at the nursery to see that his mother was fast asleep. He could have wandered off if he wanted to, but he knew he'd get in trouble. The biggest threat anyone could use, and his mother used it often, was that his apprentice ceremony would be delayed if he misbehaved. After a moment of rolling the mossball alone, a surge of irritation engulfed the kit before he swatted it hard enough to roll far from the nursery entrance.

It was only then that his irritation went away and was replaced with a feeling of sheepishness. Now he had nothing to play with...

The very orderly and fashionable Sprucebark was right on his small break he had that was sandwiched between two patrols. The tom-cat, rather small for a warrior was a calico whose pelt was very neat and tidy following in sync with the rest of his orderly and timely personality. Rules were to be followed and things run on time.

Being back in the forest back home again was great! All that traveling about really messed up his routine that he was enjoying getting back into now! To the joy of his clanmates, he recently had gotten less strict about things because he had fallen in love with his new mate Scorchlight

Moments after he was about to go check on the progress of getting their clan camp resorted from their many long moons away from here a mossball fell nearby. He glanced over to the nursery where a kitten was staring at it like it could have been a piece of prey.

He went over to the mossball and tossed it back towards Troutkit and went over to them. "Hello there young sir" he greeted in his usual polite manor.

Troutkit watched as Sprucebark, "Mr. Perfect Droppings" as his mom called him as she rolled her eyes, sent the mossball tumbling back toward the nursery. Troutkit pounced on it eagerly, discovering an apparent prey drive he was not aware that he had until that moment. His amber eyes flicked back up at Sprucebark and he absent mindedly kneaded the mossball under his paws as he tried to think of something to say.

Everything had to be in order with this tom... so what was appropriate to say?

"Salt and 'Tations your Perfectness!" He responded, testing the words on his mouth. What he meant was salutations but he was very sure that was definitely not the word. So far he thought he sounded pretty good. His confidence and the fact he actually felt impressed by himself gave him the courage to keep speaking.

"Thank you for the mossball! You'll find no unruliness or discardedly con-ducks here! All is well!" Oh that was perfect! He puffed out his chest proudly and held his head high. He had no idea that he said "disorderly conduct" incorrectly.

How did you like that, you buffoon? He thought to himself, whatever a buffoon was. He heard his mom use it sometimes but it didn't sound like it was something very nice to say.

Sprucebark chuckled a bit at the kits words. He understood mostly what he meant. con ducks nearly had even the rule heavy warrior rolling over laughing.

He would keep in mind to have an eye out for any ducks that were breaking the law as convict
He supposed if he caught such a convict duck he could serve it up style confit. It all seemed very fitting and to fall into place after all.


"right... well maybe we could come pick you out a pelt you could wear to your future ceremonies. You want to look well for it I am sure"

(you can have like any pelt you could dream of, riverclan for moons was plagued by people rolling 10's on hunting trips... It got so bad it became a running joke lmao. Or he can like roll in the mud in front of spruce just to spite him lmao is your character... I mainly just wanna see what he does if he is offered free stuff.)

Troutkit blinked at the thought of wearing a pelt. Why in Silverpelt would he want to do that? "Wear a pelt? And hurt the other kits' feelings when they already can't measure up to my fabulousness? Sprucebark... that's just mean." Okay maybe this time he was actually teasing. A small chuckle escaped his lips, but he slapped his tail over his mouth. He wasn't supposed to get friendly with Mr. Perfect Droppings. He could not.

He unfurled his tail from his mouth and looked around awkwardly. "Still I suppose a trout skin might be fitting?" Why. Why did he say trout? He needed to visit the pools again and hold his head beneath it. Maybe that would solve his problems and he could avoid the whole thing.

I can't be friends with him. Mother would disapprove. No one can disapprove if I don't return from the pool though. What a morbid thought for a young kit, but he wasn't quite old enough to grasp the concept of such a thing yet. He merely wanted to melt into the floor and be forgotten. To the Dark Forest with the mossball game...