˙ ˖ ✶ static hum ┊ figfeather.

[Cherryblossom]

"I don't like the rain," the tri-colored bundle between Figfeather's legs unceremoniously announces. Cherrykit and the golden warrior peer from behind a scraggly curtain of pine branches at the thin sheet of rain falling outside. The pitiful drizzle isn't bad enough to coax the patrol leaders into letting everyone laze around in their dens, and the grumbles of sodden warriors drift into the pair of ears with nothing better to do. Golden eyes, washed out in the pale afternoon grey, glare at the droplets collecting on the pine needles dangling in front of them. The air is filled with heady loam and pine, scents thrown into the air by the mist pooling on the ground.

Cherrykit hates it all: the smells, the sights, and especially the feelings. Mostly of getting her fur wet, but there's this tingle at the base of her brain that hates the feeling the clouded-over sky gives her too. She scoots backwards again, and her hind leg brushes up against bare, once-tattered skin. The girl glances at it, surprised and not at the same time. It's well known that Figfeather had an accident that twisted her leg into disrepair, but now she's one of the top catchers of mice, voles, and all the critters that scurry along the ground instead of the trees. "Figfeather," she meows curiously, reaching out to lightly tap the scar. "You're really good at hunting, right?" So her olders and wisers have said, but she wants to hear it from the mouth of golden Artemis herself.

@FIGFEATHER​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather stares past the pine branches, watching as rain poured from the sky. Puddles had began to form in the dips of the earth, Figfeather is sure the kits will have a field day once they wiggled away from their mothers. Perhaps... except for Cherrykit who stood beneath her. 'I don't like the rain' Figfeather lightly smiles, "It's not all bad, but I prefer to keep my pelt dry too." The small calico scoots around and repositions herself, the sunshine tabby hardly pays any mind until she feels a tap upon sensitive skin. One with a similar scar to Figfeather's might've been upset by the quiet curiosity, but honestly...? Figfeather wasn't too phased despite the insecurities it often gave her, how it always reminded her she'd never prow the trees like a true SkyClanner. 'You're really good at hunting, right?' Figfeather would like to think so... well- no, skip the modesty, she knew she was good! Yet being the best ground hunter in SkyClan was like being the best fisher in WindClan, it really didn't matter, did it? After recent events she can't help but wonder if that's why she's not been selected for anything... important. "...I am, yes." At last she replies, straightening her neck to stand tall. "Why do you ask?" She's half tempted to ask who told her such a thing... or did Cherrykit make that observation on her own? Figfeather wouldn't put it past the calico, she was smart and a good observervationalist.

 

[Cherryblossom]

Why does she ask? As Cherrykit had contemplated with Duskpool, it was just a matter of impulse. She's hungry, she eats; she's tired, she sleeps; she's curious, she asks. She doesn't know much about Figfeather beyond her status as a friendly face and a SkyClan warrior (and SunClan's deputy), but the praise surrounding the gilded molly every time she comes back with a catch isn't hard to miss. Though maybe if she paid more attention, she'd find that the words are generally somewhat reluctant, as though unwilling to add to an overflowing pile of praise but obligated to. "You always come back with stuff," the girl plainly explains. "All the mice and the voles are from you."

She tilts her head, suddenly thinking a little more. She's never seen the warrior with a bird in her mouth, but she hasn't been paying too much attention either. Cherrykit gives herself a little shake; the humidity is somewhat irritating to her silken fur. Another announcement: "I wanna be a really good hunter." She cranes her neck till she's looking straight up at the pale underside of Figfeather's jaw, Cherrykit's white throat fully exposed to the rainy world. "How do you do it?"​

 

[FIGFEATHER]

FIGFEATHER ♀​ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥​

Figfeather lightly smiles, so she had guessed right. Cherrykit pads so that she’s standing underneath Figfeather’s jaw, the warrior looks down to meet her yellow eyes. ’I wanna be a really good hunter. How do you do it? ”Well… It wasn’t easy, lots of practice, and a bit of luck.” She confesses, ”A good and patient mentor also helps.” Everything she was now was thanks to Tallulahwing. Yet there was a downside to her success and skill that had came at a young age. ”…I am as good as I am because I put my training as an apprentice above all else. I didn’t give myself much time for fun.” Outings and playtime with the other apprentices had been severely limited. Figfeather doesn’t regret it, no- but when cats talk about their youths and the grand adventures they had with friends, she’s realized she lacks in stories to tell. Plus, after her leg she had no choice but to be good. Anything less and who knows what the clan would’ve grown to think of her! ”But with dedication and a buncha practice, you’ll be hunting just as good if not better than me in no time!” Especially since you have a future in SkyClan’s treetops, maybe Cherrykit would end up becoming the warrior she had so longed to be? It would make her happy for the inquisitive calico, but a pang of envy surges through her. She longs for youth again, for the comfort of her mother and brother and the forest’s canopy.

 

[Cherryblossom]

A good and patient mentor. Cherrykit rolls the words around in her brain, like examining several marbles by rolling them around under her pawpad. She doesn't know what makes a good mentor; maybe she'd know once she had one. At any rate, she obviously deserves a good one. Figfeather continues talking, and there's a strange downwards lilt to her voice. Cherrykit doesn't quite know what it means. "But you are fun," she interrupts eagerly. "You're my deputy, remember?" She couldn't imagine Figfeather as Figpaw, with a stony look on her round face like Silversmoke or Slate; the thought makes her giggle a little.

The warrior's encouragement is unneeded, but Cherrykit basks in it anyway. "I know," she purrs. How hard could hunting be anyway? She'll just do it again and again, and catch lots of prey, and then she'll be the best hunter in SkyClan. Once again, her thoughts pass over the prospect of her apprenticeship, and she more carefully examines the furry awning she sits under. "You can be my mentor," Cherrykit declares. Battle and climbing are faraway concepts to her; in this moment, she's only enamored with how cool and nice Figfeather is. Besides, learning everything else by herself couldn't be that hard either. She's already beating up Doomkit on a regular basis—well, she beats him 100% of the time in half of their fights.​