Written in the Stars

Bounding into camp, Lilypaw mentally cursed herself for having waited so long to train. In a last-ditch effort to avoid the early-morning dew, and as a result, mud, getting caught in her fur again, she had decided to wait until after the first noon patrol to practice the small array of hunting crouches Duskracer had taught her. Just because the other apprentices took the respite to eat and socialize didn't mean she had to, after all.

That thinking led to her mousebrained mistake. Her ears and nose burned from the harsh sunlight, and she prayed that the redness would simply blend into the pink underneath her fur. Hopefully her mentor wouldn't notice; the last thing she wanted was for her to think she was some sort of forgetful kit.

Tail lashing in annoyance, Lilypaw's eyes caught sight of the fresh-kill pile-- and next to it, a lanky tom with identical fur to hers. Paletongue!

Pace increasing to meet him at his den, she skipped to a stop directly next to the prey before grabbing a small bird and continuing towards him.

Pointedly annoying his hostile gaze (he was likely directing it towards their more incompetent clanmates, not her, she told herself), Lilypaw gingerly sat a few tail-lengths away from his resting spot before resting her prey at her paws.

"Hello, Paletongue." She mewed, standing straight in hopes of looking as though she had grown from the last time he saw her.

There was no point to siblings. Their sense of entitlement to chat was irritating, and Paletongue had very little time for it. Of course, it did not help that he generally felt hostile toward Lilypaw even when she wasn't interacting with him. The medicine cat was, to put it simply, jealous. Why should Lilypaw be a warrior when he could not be? She too was small and had issues spending time in the sun, no? The only difference between them was that of their lineage. The only conclusion that Paletongue had managed to come to was that her father, Crowdance, had put a good word in for her and, through that, had manipulated Eveningstar into giving her a chance as a warrior. It was unfair and it was highly unlikely that he would stop being resentful of that at any point soon, if ever at all.

It was best not to fight in the middle of camp, though - especially not now that he was no longer an apprentice. Eveningstar would disapprove of such childish behaviour, and Paletongue dreaded disappointing his leader. So, instead of snapping at the young cat as he wished he could, he turned his cold glare to her and forced himself to be polite.

"Hello, Lilypaw," the tom responded. "The sun, it seems, had decided to come out today. That must make it a good day for training, no? You must be terribly busy." His words were an attempt to subtly convince the other to go away but, to be quite frank, he doubted that it would work. Lilypaw, he had noticed over the moons, seemed quite adamant when it came to attempting to get her brother's attention.