the adults are talking [C]

Wolfstar… geez. Foxpaw couldn’t help but shift a little on his paws while he walked behind her. She was their leader, which made her a little scary, but she was family, too. Still… Foxpaw’s pelt crawled at the idea of embarrassing himself in front of her. Or foolishly breaking the rules somehow. She could do anything she wanted if he set a paw out of line! Stars, she could tell his father. Foxpaw shuddered at the thought.

After pushing out a breath, he jogged forward to catch up to Wolfstar’s shoulder. ”Hey, uh,” he started. He wasn’t really certain where he was going. Why did he bother speaking, again? Foxpaw blinked and settled on, ”Y’know, Sorrelmist hasn’t showed me how to climb yet.” He tilted his head back to look up at the boughs that passed by overhead. ”I bet I’d be really good at it. So good you’ll have to tell the other apprentices about me. If, y’know--” He cleared his throat and his voice dropped. ”If… you show me how to.”

Foxpaw brightened up a little bit at Wolfstar’s easy agreement. It was kind of embarrassing, having to ask her to show him how to do anything, but she helped soothe the mild burn of it. Foxpaw grinned. ”’S going alright.” He said evenly. His chest puffed out as he followed Wolfstar closer to the base of a nearby tree. ”Sorrelmist is fine. And I’m pretty, y’know,” he sniffed and swelled up a little more, ”I’m pretty talented. Just wait, Wolfstar--you’ll be making me a warrior in no time.” Foxpaw flashed her a grin before she stepped up to the base of the tree and fluidly disappeared right up it.

Foxpaw met her grin with a slow blink, mouth falling slightly open. She made that look so easy! He guessed Wolfstar did have seasons of practice over him, but stars--how was he supposed to do that? Well--doing it wasn’t the problem. He could do anything. But it’d probably be clumsy, uncoordinated, graceless. She might even laugh at him, even if she kept the sound to her own head. But he couldn’t just stand here like a mouse-brain waiting for his paws to magically carry him up to the branches. He had to at least give it a try.

”Yeah, ‘kay,” Foxpaw said. He studied the tree for a moment before rearing up onto his hind legs to slap his forepaws against the trunk. His claws flexed, digging into the bark. Then he stilled for several moments. He couldn’t get his limbs to obey him when he first asked them to move. But, slowly, he began to drag his forelegs higher up the trunk; lifted his hindpaws off the ground and used them to push up. It felt strange, not having any of his paws on solid ground. It made his stomach lurch a little bit. But Foxpaw swallowed it down and persisted. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He’d told Asterpaw that, and he was going to hold to that fact.

Eventually, clumsily, Foxpaw made his way up to the branch Wolfstar stood on. He hauled himself up, causing some of the bark and needles to flake off as he wiggled onto the branch. It wobbled under his shifting weight, and he flattened against it until the rocking started to still. Then he turned a big, toothy grin up at Wolfstar. ”Hey,” he purred, ”that wasn’t so bad. I think I’m a natural.”