Scarletpaw hovers near the edge of the clearing, her fur bristling from the memory of the battles. Flamestar's speech rings with pride and defiance, but the young she-cat can't shake the unease settling in her chest. A feast to honor the fallen.The words feel…heavy. They will eat, laugh, and celebrate, but there are still warriors they will never see again. The thought makes it hard to want to celebrate anything.
She shifts her weight awkwardly as she scans the crowd. Her clanmates begin gathering in small groups, sharing prey and starting quiet conversations. For a moment, she thinks about finding her mentor, but Scarletpaw isn't sure Raccoonstripe would even want her tagging along after him all night. He's a warrior, with his own friends and mate and kits. He doesn't need her hovering. Her gaze lands on Mottledpaw instead, weaving slowly into the crowd with a slight limp and that strange, cautious tilt to her head. The tortoiseshell's heart clenches - she hasn't seen her sister much since returning from the battle, and the sight of her like this makes her paws move before her mind catches up.
"Mottledpaw!" She calls louder than intended, trotting over. Grimacing, she lowers her voice as she stops in front of her sister. "Hey." She glances nervously at her littermate's injuries, trying not to stare at the scabbing wound on her face. "You, uh...you look like you could use some company." She hesitates for a heartbeat, then awkwardly adds, "Want to share something? I mean, it's a feast, right? You're supposed to...to celebrate with someone." She hates how unsure she sounds, but she hates the idea of Mottledpaw sitting alone even more. If she has to put on a (poorly executed) festive persona for her, she will.
// talking to @mottledpaw