PERFECT LITTLE PUNCHING BAG
Sootstars greeting purr his gives a happy little squirm, eyes wide at how friendly she is. As leader, he's always thought her to be serious and strong and, well, a bit scary, but she seems nice enough to Periwinkle. Another bright smile slips onto his pointed face, before a frown tugs at the edges of his lips. A slow blink, then another, and he can only shrug and a quiet murmur of
"J-just c-couldn' sl-eep," in response. He's always been this way, and he's never been particularly bothered to notice if it's unusual of not.
It seems the camp is alive with movement already, as before he knows it he's swarmed with clanmates, some more familiar than others. Ivoryflight is quick to catch his attention, but as he opens his maw to speak he's distracted by the bundle of fur that is horizonkit tumbling her way over, all polite greetings and respectful tones. He's never understood why she's so formal - like yes, sootstar is intimidating and
cool, and so are the other adults, but he thinks she could be more... expressive, and still be polite. He can't even finish his contemplation before the last of his littler is joining them, fur fluffed up in irritation as she whines about being left behind.
"S-sorry lilac-ckit... didn' mean t-to," he murmurs apologetically, ears dropping and pale gaze sorrowful. He hates to see his siblings upset (or any cat really) and to be the cause has him kneading the ground anxiously.
Eager for a distraction, he tries to catch his mothers gaze from across the camp, giving a shy little wave of his dark paw before his attention finally lands on the last to join the conversation. Hyachinth has always been a bit of a mystery to him - she seems on edge around them, always awkward and avoidant, giving smiles that didn't look right to Peri. Her offer is a good one - it speaks of
learning and
importance and making new friends, but then again... it's hyacinthbreath who's offering. How's he supposed to make friends with a warrior who won't even
look at him?
He doesn't want to be rude though, and so with a deep breathe he tries to stay positive - maybe she's just one of those cats who don't like kits, and think they have rabies or something.
"That'd be g-gr-g-great!" he manages, a small wince of irritation flickering into view as he tries to get the words out. Sometimes, he really wishes speaking wasn't so hard.