private PRIDE WITHSTANDING / weaselclaw

[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit stares up towards the sky, though her thoughts aren't necessarily on the wispy clouds that inhabit it. In fact, for once the kitten's thoughts are grounded in reality. She's entirely too ready for her own apprenticehood to start - to explore the tunnels with other apprentices and warriors, to sharpen her claws and make use of herself... but something holds her back. She thinks of the afternoon wherein her father stole away three of her siblings - they returned with pride swelling their chests, grins on their oftentimes otherwise sullen faces. She's since learned that Weaselclaw spent the time with his three oldest simply preparing them for the lives of moor runners - a path that she isn't destined for. Sootstar did the same for her and Bluekit; it's only fair.

And yet... and yet...

Light blue eyes darken slightly as she wonders if Weaselclaw will be just as proud of her and her sister as he is with their littermates. Maybe he's withholding it all only for Moorkit, Adderkit, and Harrierkit; after all, the three of them will be spending far more time with him than she can imagine. She can understand the line of thinking (after all, it's all her own,) but that doesn't mean that she's more than ready to accept it. She loves her dad just as much as she loves her mom! And Cottonkit, perhaps the softest hearted of her littermates, fears that her father may discard her in favor of the above ground bound ones. That doesn't make sense - after all, tunneler work is dangerous and respected. Weaselclaw would be a fool to not love his cavern-bound daughters just as much, if not more. But Cottonkit is hardly even three moons old yet, and her curiosity is as much a crutch as it is a spur to move.

And speaking of move - she spots him trotting across camp. At first Cottonkit figures he's just returned from a patrol, or a hunting trip. And then, she doesn't care. He's here, and the grey kitten wants to make sure that he sees her with just as much importance as he will see her siblings. She pops onto her paws quickly, unable to match Weaselclaw's pace but managing to catch him by cutting through camp quickly. "Da!" she yips towards him, tail standing tall, just as a daughter of the two strongest cats ever should do. "I've got a question," she continues, however she waits for permission from him first.

@WEASELCLAW ♡​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Weaselclaw's mind is occupied as he trots back into camp. Juniperfrost's death has brought a dark cloud to their horizon, and Sootstar's reaction has been puzzling to him. The leader he'd known would have rallied her warriors for war, would have honored the tom who had served her with such devotion. He'd never seen Sootstar spend more than a few hours at a time inside her den, unless she were sleeping there to avoid the cold. He now feels like a trespasser within, as though he's wandered into some dark private space she does not wish to share with him. He's hurt that she won't let him in on what she's thinking, but he also trusts her enough to know there must be some reason.

Someone calls to him from across camp, and Weaselclaw's ears flick. He imagines for a moment Sootstar has called to him, is beckoning for him to draw near so they can share prey, share tongues, share ideas on how to handle RiverClan... but the figure approaching him is smaller, fur fluffed out, eyes his shade of blue instead of her glaring green. Weaselclaw's expression softens, and he lowers his head so he can bump his face against her own. "Hey, Cottonkit," he says, a soft smile breaking the gruffness of his expression -- a gesture reserved only for his daughters. "What's your question? Have you asked your mother first?"

He studies Cottonkit for a moment, wondering if the question has to do with Juniperfrost, with RiverClan. He does not know if he'll have an answer to whatever she wants to know, but for her, he'll try.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit doesn't think much of where her father's mind has wandered. In truth, although curious, the young girl isn't exactly empathetic. Her mother's distance is often noted as necessary rather than odd - she's a leader, after all! - and every cat has their head in the clouds every now and again. No harm, no foul. She's simply pleased that she's garnered Weaselclaw's attention enough to pull a covert grin from him. He leans down to match her height and she full force thumps her head against his, a purr rumbling too easily in her chest as she does.

Her determined expression falters first when he queries if she's gone to Sootstar prior. Should she have? Surely her mother would have answers, too - though Cottonkit easily decides that she'd rather hear it from Weaselclaw directly. Not to mention her occasionally impulsive nature wouldn't have allowed her patience to wait for the leader to come around. She's a creature of opportunity! "No, I haven't," she states, eyebrows furrowing only for a second, before she tacks on, "It's a question for you." Maybe he needs the clarification.

Regardless, Cottonkit eases back on her haunches, so long as her father does the same and doesn't meander away from her (she follows him if he does, incapable of abandoning her mission now.) "I was just wondering - you'll still like us, right? Bluekit and I, when we're tunnellers." Though both fear and worry spur her actions, she offers her inquiry in the same tone as if she would were she to ask what was their next meal going to be. Tactless and blunt as she is, Cottonkit hasn't exactly gotten tonal differences down yet. Her tail twitches, perhaps her only show of anxiety. "I know - you're a moor runner -" More than that! She reminds herself, quickly interjecting with, "Lead warrior, even!" Before continuing, "And I just wanted to be sure. I'm gonna work just as hard, y'know. Maybe even harder than - haha - Adderkit, if that's possible!"​

 

[WEASELCLAW]

Cottonkit's purr, her returned affection, causes the tabby to smile and draw a rasping tongue between her soft little ears. Her question isn't for Sootstar, she says -- it's for him. He sits and gives her his attentive blue stare, meeting her eyes that are so like his own. The only kit with my eyes. A detail he's not noticed before -- but her earnest stare is still full of innocence. How soon until they're gemstone-hard like Sootstar's, icy like his own?

"I was just wondering -- you'll still like us, right?" The question startles him. Had he done something to indicate otherwise? His smile disappears. "Bluekit and I, when we're tunnelers." Weaselclaw lowers his voice. "Why would you think I wouldn't like you still?"

He is a fool to have thought Cottonkit and Bluekit would not have noticed the morning he'd roused their larger littermates to take them beyond camp. But Weaselclaw knows Sootstar had brought her daughters to the mouths of the tunnels too, given them a similar lecture about the importance their future roles carry.

"I'll always like you. There's probably not anything you can do to change that." His smile returns for Cottonkit, and he bops her over the head gently with a white forepaw. "You should know that. Besides," he continues, "I'm sure Sootstar has told you how important tunnelers are to WindClan. We wouldn't survive leafbare without them! You have a very dangerous job. Maybe more dangerous than Adderkit."

There is no maybe about it, to him, but he does not want to frighten her. He saves that fear for himself, his own tortured brain. Weaselclaw has spent many moons gripped in terror, imagining a tunnel's ceiling loosening and caving in on Sootstar. All remaining lives snuffed by crushing earth.

Now he has to worry about Cottonkit and Bluekit the same way, beneath the ground where he cannot see them, cannot save them. Weaselclaw's eyes are dark with worry that he'd put off until now -- but he does not give voice to it. "Have you told your brothers and sister about the tunnels yet? They might think it's cool." He lifts his paw from her head, trying to look gleeful again -- for her.​

[ PENNED BY MARQUETTE ]​

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[cottonsprig]

Cottonkit feels as if she's done something wrong almost immediately - his fatherly smile dissipates when she speaks. His warmth towards her does not, and his returned question fills the air instead with worry and trepidation. If not for her innately question-driven nature, the grey furred kitten might've tried to retract her inquiries. Maybe the afternoon would be nicer if she hadn't bothered, y'know? But she doesn't. She carries on best she can even with his own blues holding her in place.

He speaks, and his paw lands on her head. She doesn't flinch however she does let out a surprised squeak, ears tilting just out of the way to make room. Her head tilts towards Weaselclaw as he speaks, assuring her that nothing in the world could make him not like her. In truth, he could've stopped there. A simple, "I'll always love you," is more than enough for Cottonkit. However he continues on with the importance of her future work, even emphasizing how dangerous it would be in comparison to Adderkit.

"Really? You think so?" Cottonkit chirps, her determined expression shifting to excitement and awe. She's heard a thousand stories of the dangers of tunneling, and so her father's claim may as well be factual. She knows not his worries as he hides them well - either that, or she is not as observant as she thinks she is. Regardless, his smile returns when he pitches a question back to her, his paw shifting from her head. She moves quickly to bump her head against his paw, again, before scooting closer simply to sit beside him. "I haven't, but I will! They have to know that - that Bluekit and I will be really good tunnellers. The best, even! Hopefully they won't be too jealous..." her tone hardly leads away from the jovial nature she's adopted now, indicating that she doesn't really mind if her siblings become envious of her.

She pauses for a second, eyes unfocused as she looks to the distance. Cottonkit then uses her shoulder to nudge Weaselclaw, shining a wide smile back at him, "I like you too, y'know. Even though you're a silly moor runner," she teases her father happily. "I'll tell you every single story I get from the tunnels, I promise. It'll be like you're down there with me!" Protecting me, she thinks, though the thought never finds her tongue. She's more than capable, she thinks, of protecting herself in the caverns and caves. But the idea that her father will be there, too, is just a tad more comforting at least.​