The sunning-stump looms before the gaggle of kittens. Sunlight streams down the grooves in its bark, coating its crevices in warm tan and deep chocolate. If Cherrykit squints, she can make out the finer details: ants dotted up and down in broken lines, flakes of bark floating off, stray hairs of past sunners. Needle-point claws flex in their sheaths, straining to make their own marks upon the little wooden tapestry of its history. Orangeblossom asks for those among them who can climb, but is quick to reassure them if they can't. A silent snort flutters delicate whiskers. Of course she can climb. She's been climbing since she was born, clambering up and down the nursery walls, bouncing atop rocks like leaders do. What daughter of Orangeblossom would she be if she couldn't?
Glimmerkit goes first. Though she asserts to do her best, it's a quick failure. Sparrowpaw comforts her in the way Cherrykit finds it hard to do, enthusiastic words somehow still gentle, telling her it's okay to do poorly. It's okay to not meet your own expectations. And while the little tortoiseshell wants to wipe the slight look off her paler mirror as well, the apprentice seems to have a handle on it. Sunkissed eyes turn back towards the stump.
Crowkit has always been a step out of sync with the rest of polite society, and Cherrykit knows the other boy's nest isn't the tightest woven, but she doesn't expect it to be absolutely scrambled here. For StarClan's sake, he didn't even try! Smoky paws scrabble at the bark like he's Fireflypaw trying to shuffle around herbs, and out of all the next actions he could've taken, he licks it. Like it's a whip of fur sticking out of someone else's flank. The girl stares at him, knowing they both won't be bothered by the blatant amusement and disrespect in pale yellow eyes. "What was that?" she giggles, weaving her way through the throng of kittens to bump into his side. "We're supposed to be climbing," the calico helpfully adds.
Eggkit blasts off before she can continue, forwards and off the wall in his bouncy trajectory. His sister doesn't have the heart nor incentive to laugh at him; his clumsiness wasn't unexpected, given how everyone's but his babyfat seems to be shedding off like autumn leaves. Hiccupkit takes it upon himself to emulate Sparrowpaw, lending grace unto his ungainly attempts, but Cherrykit also chimes in with, "It's okay if you're not good at it, Eggkit." She gives him a sympathetic smile, which dissolves the moment the third of Orangeblossom's kits take the leap. Hiccupkit's shot goes much better than Eggkit's, to the point where the girl might've felt a twinge of jealousy or envy had she been born the slightest bit less cocky. "I knew you could do it!" she cheers, a surprising outburst to all the kits unrelated to Cherrykit. But Hiccupkit is her brother, her bone and flesh, and there weren't enough stars in the sky to measure her pride for them (because, by extension, they're just a measure of her pride for herself). "He's better than you," she meows to Crowkit, giving him a proud grin.
As though to say "Anyway, watch me now," Cherrykit rears up, placing two tiny paws against the roughness, like twin pats of snowfall clinging to the grooved surface. Yellow eyes beam up at her brother, whose ruddy-and-white pelt seems to hang an entire foxlength above hers; with his larger form, he feels like a sack of cobweb-wrapped bricks hovering in the air, and an unfortunate place to stand under. Hiccupkit seems to have the hang of it though, and she has little doubt another brother would tumble off, especially when he's now too focused to even hiccup again.
Instead of crouching and launching herself upon the bark like a frog splayed on a leaf, Cherrykit feels her forepaws tense upon the scarred surface, claws sinking milimeters deep. She imagines hooking upon long fur instead of the rippling expanse of brown, remembers the feeling of tugging herself up upon the footholds of her father's shoulders and onto the top of his skull. And when she climbs, it looks and feels more like walking. One fluid motion from the ground towards the brimming lip of the stump, like water flowing upwards. A grin billows from her jaws as she pursues the top. Her hind legs push like pistons, propelling her up some invisible line continuously pulled down by her paws: she feels like she's pushing the world down instead of pulling herself up.
One final strain of her limbs, and she's at the top of the stump. Almost immediately, she spins over to blink down the sides, tail raised high like a flag. "I DID IT!" she crows. Her smile stretches cheek to cheek, puckering them with blue divots from the gleeful strain. Unlike her brother, Cherrykit absolutely means to brag. "I did it, I did it ♫♪" she sings while prancing around at the top of the stump, every turn marked by an lofty glance below. Dandelion eyes glow towards her mother, expectation brimming in cheery hues. "Mama, look! Aren't I amazing?" she purrs. And doesn't everyone else, like, totally suck?
ooc: rolled a 20 in the discord!
