descended from the heavens [c]

“Oh, SkyClanner!” called Nettleweaver, mismatched eyes dancing on the large tabby tom. “If I climbed that tree would you catch me if I fell?” he paused, letting the words settle. He had no issue with flirting to get cats to lower their guard. Let them think him ditzy and simple, cats talked too much when they felt superior. “I’ve always wanted to climb, see the world like a bird. Could you show me a thing or two, I’m not looking for trouble.” The white tom placed a paw on the tree, stretching lazily, then letting his claws grip the bark. His rump wiggled and then he sprang onto the lowest branch, he was unsteady. His knees buckled and he teetered trying to find his centre of gravity. After several moments, he finally stopped swaying. He cast the SkyClanner on the ground a haphazard smile “Not bad for a ShadowClanner, hm?” giggled Nettleweaver.