forgive these bones i'm hiding || warrior cats

─ i. crosses all over my body

A/N: Title taken from "Family Tree" by Ethel Cain.

"Oh, darling, don't forget to bring the nursery some as well!"

Glaring with sharp blue eyes, Foxpaw eyed Honeydawn with annoyance and hissed something unsavory through the clumps of moss clenched in his jaws. Water dripped down his chin, wetting the fur of his neck and chest. The orange tabby pinned his ears.

Honeydawn, remaining blissfully unaware or uncaring of the danger Foxpaw exuded, licked delicately at a golden paw.

He heard the scraping laugh of Tidesnarl from behind him, and he swung his head around to glare at her instead. The blue-furred elder merely peered up at him in amusement, her scraggly teeth bared with her grin.

He rolled his eyes at her.

Grumbling under his breath, Foxpaw turned and slunk out of the elder's den, flicking his tail at Tidesnarl's rasping farewell as he went. Squinting into the bright sunlight of the mid-morning, he tightened his teeth into the moss.

It had been around a moon since he had come to WindClan.

He had hesitantly accepted his new name, despite the Clan's naming customs being dramatic and, frankly, unnecessary. He was unlearning many of his more selfish tendencies, too; whether by his own choice or not. His assigned mentor had not been shy in telling him off, claiming that they were lucky he came to them early enough that there is still some hope of him being decent in the future. Ouch. He supposed that was why she was assigned to him, of all cats.

Speaking of said mentor, she was currently the reason he was covered in moss-water and slaving over the elderly, so he kind of hated her at the moment. Burnstride was on some special patrol for Swanstar, and because he wasn't old enough to be a warrior, he was stuck doing chores instead of anything useful.

He was trapped as an apprentice, despite him being almost too competent at taking care of himself. Swanstar said he'd be an apprentice until he learned how to fight without immediately going for the kill, for whatever reason. Sounded like bullshit. He thought it was just an excuse for Burnstride to keep trying to kick his ass.

Shaking off as much annoyance as he could, he slipped inside the nursery, the warmth and milky smell of it settling his ruffled fur.

Across from the entrance, the tri-colored form of Wildrain lay sprawled out, her two kittens lying haphazardly across her tail and neck. A dark blue eye peeled open, squinting over Solacekit. Wildrain purred a bit in greeting.

Foxpaw felt the last of any residual elder-based negativity seep away as Solacekit squeaked in her sleep, responding to her mother by instinct. He padded over to lay some of the dampened moss by Wildrain's head, her sleepy purr rising in volume with her thanks.

He turned his head, spying the red-striped pelt of Spicewhisker curled in her nest, two of her young kits sleeping soundly in the curve of her belly. The third, a tiny mimic of her, was batting lightly at a black tail tip.

Foxpaw flicked his gaze towards the owner of the tail, meeting the odd violet eyes of Moondancer.

The black tom blinked slowly in greeting, raising his tail a bit for Emberkit to chase after. The perceptiveness of Moondancer's strange eyes always caught Foxpaw slightly off guard, and he dropped the last of the moss down somewhat stiffly.

"Thank you," the soft melodic voice of the tom said, his tone quiet enough to not wake the sleeping kits.

Foxpaw dipped his head a bit in reply, turning to leave the sleepy nursery to its rest.

"Oh," Moondancer mewed after him, halting his steps. "If you see my wayward child, send them here, please. I would like to speak to her."

Breathing harshly out of his nose, the orange apprentice rumbled a bit in reluctant agreement before slipping out of the den.