- May 28, 2023
- 21
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Loki absentmindedly chews at the bundle of cordgrass in his jaws. The rough strands rub uncomfortably against the backs of his teeth, but their usefulness trumps whatever momentary discomfort may have stopped him in a past life. He's caught between motivations: gathering nesting materials to look useful, or doing so because it's the "right thing to do" and puts to use his ample experience in crafting the perfect sleeping spot. Either way, he was getting things done and looking more like someone who knew what he was doing. To be sure, he knew that laying wide strips of grass beneath the nesting areas would help block mud and water from mucking up their softness, the certain muckiness of which he fervently longed to avoid after his first few nights beneath the Thunderpath. If there was ever a bad time to be a newcomer to ShadowClan, it was when they'd been on the run from bears.
In contrast, having to do menial labor was much better. It didn't seem to require the skill that hunting or fighting had, nor even a fraction of the amount of work he knew he'd have to put in someday. But today is not the day. He ducks through the tight bramble tunnel, flattening his long ears against the inevitable scrape of invisible thorns, before emerging into the bustling camp. Pine-shaded eyes dart from cat to cat, questions flitting beneath his grass-trapped tongue. Chiefly among them is the thought, Where do I put all of these? After a few seconds of searching, he finally lands on a familiar face. As though melting upwards from her shadow, the apprentice quietly materializes at Needledrift's side. "Srrghgh," he tries to say, then decides to put down his bundle first. "Sorry, um, hi, Needledrift," he meows, coaxing a bashful smile onto his face. "Do you know what I should do with these?" he ventures, glancing back down at them. The pile seems smaller and thinner than he remembers carrying back; did a few strands fall out? I guess it's better than nothing.
@Needledrift