"NOBODY TEACHES YOU TO WALK WITH OPEN HANDS"
Though she's lounging nearby, Bear doesn't exactly feel relaxed. Rather, she feels distinctly as if she's forgotten to do something despite the fact that she knows there's nothing she's supposed to be doing right now. Perhaps that's part of the problem - if she has nothing to do, then surely it means that she's missing out on something. What that something might be, Bear has no idea, and she's contemplating just going out into the territory to have something to do (maybe hunt? That's something she's...well, not good at, but at least capable of) when she catches Squirrelkit's cry of victory, ears pricking up. A smile crosses her face as she watches the kit tear into the moss until there's nothing left; it certainly looked like she was having a blast.
The prospect of a bigger ball of moss is suggested, and Bear considers offering to find them some more, though she hesitates - would it be weird to just step in like that? She hardly knows them, and besides, it's not like she knows where to find more moss. It grows in the forest, sure, but she suspects that all the nearby moss has been mostly harvested, especially with so many kits running around, assuming that Squirrelkit isn't the only one tearing into moss. As Watson produces some moss out of - did he pull that out of his fur? Her train of thought is interrupted by the notion of a cat growing moss out of their own fur, and it takes an embarrassingly long moment before she realizes the moss must have just been pressed up against his fur. Furrowing her brow, Bear tries to remember what she had been about to do; go out and hunt...moss, or, no that didn't seem right. Shaking her head, she instead approaches the small gathering, trying to offer a welcoming smile. "You sure showed that moss! I bet you could take on a whole nest by yourself and win!" she praises lightly with a soft smile.
