private mental funeral // ferndance

[sprucepaw ✰]

Mapleberry had asked Ferndance to take her apprentice with her on an outing - for what reason, Sprucepaw had no idea. Her mother, perhaps, seemed done with her overly positive antics, and figured the flea-bitten disgrace would be better to handle her for the afternoon. In the end it doesn't matter to the brown tabby. After all - Ferndance is like the aunt everyone has and nobody (but her) wants, and surely the she-cat will have a little fun with the adventure.

"So where are we off to?" Sprucepaw chirps, trotting a little quicker to keep up with the brownish warrior.​

 

[FERNDANCE]

She had become something of a babysitter to wayward apprentices who did not always give their mentors the time of day. Strangely, those mentors always seemed to regret the lessons she taught their little friends and never asked her to take them out again. Mapleberry had either not gotten the message or had chosen to ignore it, regardless, the ticked tabby did not mind having a little stowaway following her around ShadowClan land. Silly or serious, there was always something for the little ones to learn about hunting and being the prolific hunter she was (she would puff herself up like a morning rooster about it everytime she could), the former Lead had no problem being the one to provide lessons. Ferndance looked over her shoulder, head bobbing as if she'd lost the muscles in her neck. "You know..." Her own pace slowed, voice lowering to a near whisper. "I have no idea where we're going," she answered blissfully, eyes closed. It was only semi-true, judging by the scent markers and trickle of the stream, she would say they were heading to the south-western Thunderpath. The potential the cross the other clans was slim but still present, subconciously, her ears stood to attention.

"We just go where the wind takes us... unless it is to an early death. In which case, don't follow the wind little one," When her eyes opened again, the cinnamon tabby had turned her head, her fur standing on edge as she realised she was a mere mouselength away from colliding with a tree. An early death? Perhaps not. An emberassing one? Most definitely. She ducked and weaved to the right and the last second, then, disappeared behind it. Scrambling up the dark branches and settling on a low one, Ferndance would stare down at Sprucepaw like an owl prepared to swoop. "Maybe... I can show you the Thunderpath crows. They do something utterly magical."

​