imaginary friends are real (c)

Another day, another patrol. Ryepaw wanted to be in his nest. His paws dragged with every step, heavy and weighted and he so so wanted just to topple over and snooze where he was. Stupid patrols. Couldn't he just stay a kit forever? A kit and then he could eat and sleep all day and not worry about a thing, but now he had to worry about training, and he had to worry about hunting. Pah.

Thistlepaw was with him, though. That was the only thing keeping him on course, the familiar pelt that he could trail after while not focusing on anything in particular.