This was something of a habit for Ferndance. Do one's chores early, find a cat to bother the rest of the day, sneak things into their fur when they weren't looking and declare innocence if they caught on. Sometimes her victims were the apprentices, who never seemed keen to tell the Lead Warrior off for one reason or another, some were kittens, who took her pranks as games. Some were warriors... it was the warriors who seemed to have the most issues with it. Still, Ferndance continued to prod at them all, she'd promised Chilledstar she would use her power responsibly, and in her humble opinion, it was very responsible to have fun. With Wolfpaw's training and her daily patrol out of the way, Ferndance's attention could solely settle upon Chittertongue. She wasn't as familiar with the other as she was with Dogfur or Roosterstrut, but being mere acquaintances had never stopped the tabby from her hubris. Ferndance went to and from the Warrior's den with an urgency that afternoon, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's every time. Somewhere along the lines, her quarry had fallen asleep - she would be damned if she let that opportunity to go waste.
She dropped what she was carrying, bundles of spit-slicked leaves and pine needles, and began gently placing them atop Chittertongue's gently moving flank. Fern truthfully didn't know if they'd stay on him when he rose, from experience, it seemed rare for short hair to carry half the things that long fur could. She imagined the pine needles would still twist around and make their homes, if the other leaves didn't, then at least she could make the chimera into a pretty convincing leaf pile. No sooner than deciding that did Chittertongue suddenly stir through Ferndance's perspective. Perhaps a paw had been too rough in applying a leaf, perhaps she had made too much noise ruffling her dwindling stock, or perhaps he'd just gotten tired of his nap. Her whole body stilled regardless of the pre-requisite, wide eyes beaming down at the newly awake tomcat. "Oh, hello," she beamed innocently, her expression full of hollow neutrality. Surely, with the needles and burrs by her side and that totally naive look on her face (totally), Chittertongue wouldn't think she was capable of such a thing, right? Right? As if to project her blamelessness further, she mewed, "You snore in your sleep." How that was supposed to help her, only the stars would know.
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