Quote:
Originally Posted by Undertaker
Dawnstar blinked lazily as she rested in her nest, lost in thought about her kits. Over the moons, they've gotten quite large, annoyingingly so. It was getting difficult to fit them all in her nest. Even with the ones that have sadly disappeared, her nest seemed too small for the ones that remained. As the thought of her missing kits brought this unwanted ache she roughly dragged her tongue over her chest fur as if she could itch the feeling away.
Her tattered, tufted ears swerved toward Grottokit as she continued grooming herself. She paused and turned to stare at her kit with a frown. "Yes, I'm fully aware that you don't seem to care much for bonding with your siblings." There was the barest hint of gloom in her tone.
"But I do. This may be the last time you all do something together like this, without me forcing you together. You and your siblings will move to the apprentices' den and start training and I'm sure you will only further drift apart as you age. I want you to all at least do your apprentice ceremonies together. So indulge me and stop complaining, Pest."
Dawnstar was aware that she was being a tad bit selfish, but it's not like she asked her kits to do much of anything other than don't leave her and don't betray her. Knowing her kits were leaving the nest left her feeling oddly bitter and prideful, but more the former than the latter.
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His ears turned in different angles. He hadn't considered that. It wasn't that he didn't
care for bonding with them, he just... wasn't sure he needed to. They were blood. They would always be close no matter what happened, right? And he was their older brother, which meant it was his job to be ready to protect them. But if Mother thought otherwise...
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"I didn't think about it that way." He'd have to round them all up at some point before their ceremony.
A pause, before he glanced up at her and leaned in to knock his forehead affectionately against her leg. He vaguely remembered what Sootpaw had said in the clearing.
"How..." Was it wrong to ask? He hadn't really thought about it before.
"The scars on your face. How did you get them?"