‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ She had not been gone for long, her momentary time spent away from her apprentice hardly more than a few minutes in favor of tending to other duties, and yet a wary eye trailing away for mere heartbeats was all it took for her ward to cause a noticeable stir between himself and his denmates. With a subtle twitch of her tufted ears, she would move forward with languid movements, excusing herself from the company of the elders who had graciously accepted the food presented to them...the very thing that Bergamotpaw seemed to be having a fit over.
Her approach was silent, the only indicator of her presence being her elongated shadow cast from a hauntingly tall and boney frame as she stood in front of the dimming Leaf-bare sun overhead. It bore down upon her apprentice, casting his body and the bodies of the other two young cats who he had spat venom at as if it were sentient, moments away from opening its abyssal jaws and swallowing every being present whole. Delicate as she was, she carried an eerie air of unspoken
wrong about her that was hard to ignore. It was intimidating in its own way, unlike anything that one might envision while mulling over the definition of such a word. With a graceful wave of her plumed tail, she would allow her hallowed gaze to rest upon each 'paw in turn before orbs of rotting olive hooked themselves into the gangly form of Bergamotpaw like violent claws against tender flesh.
"Querido niño..." Her voice was soft, gentle and brushed the senses of those in attendance like that of birdsong carried on the wings of a summer's wind. Not a hint of anger nor annoyance would etch her features nor harden her tone, but there was something beneath- something unidentifyable, something more- something so inexplicably
wrong. It roiled the gut and made fur stand on end, instinct that begged you to run and never turn back for even a moment lest you come face to face with sheer demise...but she was so ethereal, so unassuming in her appearance, it played a trick on the mind and the senses alike. A sharp intake of breath before she continued;
"...You must not cast blame upon the youth...to deprive these jóvenes soldados of their right to nutriment...Surely you must distinguish your fault?"
The snow-coated molly would glide across the frosted ground with a graceful gait, removing herself from her apprentice's side and weaving between Grasspaw and Frightpaw. She would offer a tender glance towards them both before
momentarily brushing a silken tail against each of their backs in turn. "If those who are so capable should be rendered incapable...who, then, would provide the sustenance so desperately needed for our bebés y ancianos... whom of which you defend with such...ferocidad...?" Her drooping eyelids shot open, the final word spat out as if it were an unsavory taste upon her tongue, though the corners of her plush-lined lips twisted upwards into a smile devoid of any discernible emotion. She hoped that her rigid student would understand her reasoning, for despite his apparent disinterest in providing himself with the proper amount of nutrients to keep himself strong enough to bring in the same for those in their midst who could no longer do so for themselves, did not mean everyone else should be forced- or even expected- to do the same. Weak apprentices made for weak warriors, and weak warriors provided little to nothing, and that would result in the inevitable death of not only the vulnerable, but the entirety of their clan. It was foolish to deprive living potential of so much strength and energy to serve as he so often preached about doing.
The ghastly molly's expression would settle into its typical doe-like features as Sedgepounce's suggestion to hunt as one cut through the stifling space, a much smaller, more genuine smile would soon crease her features as she stood slowly back onto her polydactyl paws.
"How kind of you to extend such an invitation...One of which we would lament the refusal of..." She dipped her head graciously in Sedgepounce's direction before hailing Bergamontpaw to her side as she began to walk away from the rather unbecoming scene.
"Come along, mi querido. The moorland air shall do well to lay our troubles to rest..." 
