- Aug 17, 2023
- 34
- 7
- 8
StarClan, why was her luck always so terrible? It seemed like any time her mom wanted to talk to her it was about - ugh - Chervilkit. 'Will you be a dear and watch your sister so I can stretch my legs?' Did she not understand that Honeypaw had training to attend to and a warrior ceremony to strive hard for? Crows to prowl after, shadows to sneak through, ferns to hide under, trees to climb, all the cool parts of training for a life full of valor and hardship. What was cool about kitsitting? Honeypaw wasn't sure if this was an attempt to try to make her bond with her younger sister, but if it was, it was a horrible try. Honeypaw had no room to entertain softness for her fuzzy little replacement in their family. Whether or not she wanted to treat Chervilkit with any kindness, she was still stuck making sure she kept herself out of trouble. Not that Chervilkit had a brave bone in her body, or the ability to defy their mom's orders. Honeypaw was confident that if she had left her sister behind altogether to sneak off with another apprentice, Chervilkit wouldn't even be bold enough to tattle on her. The rest of their Clanmates weren't nearly as passive about her lack of care, however, so Honeypaw found herself seated at the outside of the nursery to her great displeasure.
Her plumed tail was curled tightly around her frame, paws tucked underneath the feather strands of fur. Her crescent-marked muzzle twitched in boredom as Honeypaw tried very hard to pay Chervilkit no mind. It was growing increasingly hard when the clouds in the sky were a thick blanket of gray, and the camp around them was a slow stream of the same faces as patrols were out and about. There was nothing else to do except for engage with the sister she'd been tasked to ward. The apprentice draws in a great breath as she finally breaks her own tense silence to seek out her sister, bronze eyes fixing in on the small molly. "Chervil," she calls to grab the kit's attention. "How about some mossball?" Honeypaw hadn't played in a while, and moss was quite soft - she wouldn't exactly have to temper her bats to her sister. It was almost unfair to ask, since Honeypaw had no intention of letting her win, either.
Her plumed tail was curled tightly around her frame, paws tucked underneath the feather strands of fur. Her crescent-marked muzzle twitched in boredom as Honeypaw tried very hard to pay Chervilkit no mind. It was growing increasingly hard when the clouds in the sky were a thick blanket of gray, and the camp around them was a slow stream of the same faces as patrols were out and about. There was nothing else to do except for engage with the sister she'd been tasked to ward. The apprentice draws in a great breath as she finally breaks her own tense silence to seek out her sister, bronze eyes fixing in on the small molly. "Chervil," she calls to grab the kit's attention. "How about some mossball?" Honeypaw hadn't played in a while, and moss was quite soft - she wouldn't exactly have to temper her bats to her sister. It was almost unfair to ask, since Honeypaw had no intention of letting her win, either.