[ti]Private[/ti]Far Too Mature

[Fireflake]

It was a day like any other for Pepperkit. She was sorting through some moss, separating it into usable moss for Lilydawn and Twistedbranch, and fragile mossballs for the younger kits. Which, at this point, every kit was. Almost eight moons old was quite an impressive age in the nursery. Today, Pepperkit had decided to sit out in the clearing instead of any of her usual spots. Patches of sun shone on her face, but the trees cast shadows that prevented the heat from irritating the already-uncomfortable plant cast around her hind leg. Life was good.

And then it got even better. A whiff of a scent on the breeze and a glimmer of tortoiseshell pelt in her peripheral vision was all it took. Pepperkit had batted the moss safely to the roots of a tree and was half-hobbling toward the apprentice den, at the fastest pace she trusted herself with. It was still a half-hobble, of course, because Pepperkit still didn’t want to put her paw down too much when she had three other perfectly good ones. It wasn’t a matter of nervousness or denial. Absolutely not. She was far too mature for that now. Almost an apprentice, you know!

Almost able to sleep in the same den as her siblings again. One of whom was the subject of her enthusiastic journey right now. “Pollenpaw!” she called out loudly. “Pollenpaw, Pollenpaw, wait for me!”
She’d tried her best to stay just as close to her littermates now that they had moved out of the nursery and she hadn’t, but there was only so far you could go when, well, there was literally only so far you could go. The boundaries of camp held her until, hopefully, the next ceremonies rolled around.

[mewmehh]

Pollenpaw had been returning from a hunting patrol with Sandhawk, the tall tortoiseshell carrying in both a mouse and shrew triumphantly. With her mentor having dismissed her, the pretty she-cat trotted over to deposit her catches at the fresh kill pile.

"Nice catch,"[/b] chimed the sleepy voice of Beamsong from where the warrior was sunbathing and the apprentice stood even taller at the praise. Kinking her tail up like a waving flag, she move on deeper into the camp. However, as she went, a familiar flash of ginger caught her eye and a voice howled her name. Whipping around, the white-headed apprentice dashed over and nearly barreled into her sister.

"Pepperkit!" she yowled cheerily, cuffing the kitten over the ear. Among her siblings, Pollenpaw seemed to have gained her grandfather's great, long legs and thus she found she often stood over her sisters. Regardless, the taste of her Pepperkit's voice was zesty and sweet and seemed to be fill only with love!! Pollenpaw had learned that her father, too, could taste unique scents from each cat- more intensely than any other cat could, it seemed. However, even his ability was different from hers, and because of it, Pollenpaw found it incredibly useful in her own right.

Savoring the flavor, Pollenpaw was even more excited to talk with her sister. After all, it felt like she got to see Pepperkit less and less each day. "How's it going? Play anything fun recently?"

[Fireflake]

Pepperkit nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes! I helped Twigkit build a big lump of leaves the other day, like a really big one she could stand on, and we pretended I was an invader trying to get into IvyClan's camp."
The young she-cat gestured at chest-height as she told the story, trying to emphasize just how much effort had gone into the feat. "She said it was 'exquisite', and she looked happy, so I think that's a good thing."

Pepperkit's paws tingled with joy and she pressed her toes into the ground, kneading it clawlessly. "And then yesterday- no, wait! You next. How's stuff going out in the big ol' world?"
Much as she wanted to hear Pollenpaw's tales of training and exploration, the ginger tabby couldn't help but call attention to the prey her sister had brought in. "It looks like you've got some of those hunting moves pinned. I bet you're going in leaps and bounds, aren't you?"

Pepperkit kept her eyes stuck to Pollenpaw in anticipation of her response, even as she swiped a paw over her ear. The lack of balance that had her tottering all over camp seemed to hardly affect her in moments like this, when she was focused intently on something else, but usually returned as soon as she noticed.