Roll It, Bop It, Pounce It! [OPEN] Sept 29, 2020 17:46:44 GMT -6
Post by dumpster on Sept 29, 2020 17:46:44 GMT -6
It wasn’t the best time to welcome kits into the world—especially for a first time mother like Mousesong… not only was it her first litter; it seemed to Drizzlepelt that Mousesong was barely out of the nursery, herself. She was so young—too young—but as Drizzlepelt approached the nursery with her companions, she supposed that StarClan wouldn’t have blessed Mousesong with kits of her own had they not felt that she was ready for them, somehow someway… Perhaps with time she would see in Mousesong what StarClan must have.
Until then, she had resolved to do as much as she could to offer her support to the young queen.
“It’s important to replace nesting material regularly—especially within the nursery,” the molly said over her shoulder to the apprentices—and Ottercloud—who had joined her for the task, generous belly swishing with every step strode. “With the cold winds coming, we all have to do our part to ensure that each of us can make it through leaf-fall and leaf-bare together… the most vulnerable among us need special care; so today we’re going to help clean out the nursery to help make sure that Mousesong’s kits don’t catch sick as it gets chillier out.” Drizzlepelt paused a tail-length from the nursery, eying each of those who had tagged along… Ottercloud looked positively bored, but that didn’t surprise her.
The only trouble with Ottercloud’s boredom—and virtually any of his moods—was that he was particularly infectious among the youth of their Clan.
Luckily for Drizzlepelt, having practically raised the young tom cat herself following the unfortunate loss of both of his parents, she was better than most at knowing how to manage and direct him… and far more patient with his nature.
“But—” she began, bright eyes fixing the oldest of her band of chore-performers with a glimmer that was only barely hinting on chastising, based as it was in amusement, “—just because this is an important task doesn’t mean that we can’t find a way to try and make it an enjoyable one, too,” shifting her eyes between the apprentices, Drizzlepelt’s tail-tip gave a series of idle twitches as her whiskers pulled forward with thought, “A contest, then,” she said, a warm, small smile growing, “each of you will take a wad of old nesting material and see just how far you can smack each of them—then we’ll see if the lot of you can pounce to the farthest wad… for whoever can manage the farthest jump… I’ll…” Drizzlepelt’s green eyes narrowed for a moment, shifting about the camp before they landed on an infamous bristling sour form disappearing to settle himself into the elder’s den across the clearing.
That will do, her eyes glittered thoughtfully.
“I’ll handle all of your elder-related duties and chores for a quarter-moon.” She bargained with a dip of her head. “If that sounds like a fair deal, then lets get this nursery cleaned out and see how far each of you can fly.” Drizzlepelt purred.