Lunch and Laughter [Closed]

Ebonypaw walked into camp with a tired smile on her muzzle before shaking her long coat once more, even more dirt send flying around her in a small cloud. She did her best to clean herself each time she walked out from the small tunnel system she had found and slightly expanded, but no matter how much she tried, there always seemed to be some extra dirt stuck in it.

A lot of cats probably would dislike it, but she found herself not really caring at all. She was as happy as she could be underground, and she was just as skilled as any WindClanner on the moors. One thing was true, though, those long morning digging always made her so tired…she was slowly getting used to the effort such activity required, but it was clear that it would take her body some time to fully adapt to that.

She want towards the fresh-kill pile, dropping a couple pieces of freshkill she had crossed paths accidentally while digging. She was surprised of how plentiful the prey could be underground, she would dare to say that it was just as plentiful as it was overground…at times it felt like they ran straight to her paws to be caught, most likely feeling safe in the darkness on the tunnels, not expecting a cat to be there with them.

She took one of the pieces of freshkill with her, though. A long day of work was always quite effective to make anyone hungry, and she was definitively not the exception. Plus, she had just given her clan most of her catch of the day, so having a bite herself as well only seemed fair, right?

She went to a shady spot next to the bramble wall, allowing her tired legs to give in under her weight, the soft grass of newleaf cushioning her fall and helping her get comfortable quickly so she could start her meal.

A large moorhen drooped from the deputy's maw, black feathers starkly contrasted against the white of her chest, though the dark fur on her face seemed to blend right in. It had been a strange catch - Heronfeather was not one to resort to stalking, preferring to bounce across the moorland like the rabbits they were known for hunting - but the stream nearby had bore more than a few birds, and there was no way the mottled she-cat was going to pass up the opportunity to net a fat one like this. A satisfied purr escaped her as she laid it gently over the top of a rabbit another cat in her patrol had brought in, before the overwhelming scent of dirt hit her senses, causing her purr to abruptly stop in her throat as she turned to face the bearer of the scent.

Her whiskers twitched in amusement as she noticed Ebonypaw enter camp with dirt clinging to the ends of her fur, before her eyes noticed the multiple pieces of freshkill the apprentice had brought in with her, eyes widening briefly in shock. As the black she-cat deposited her prey, Heronfeather took a step back to admire her catches and quickly chose a grouse from the pile for herself. Padding over to the other molly, she settled nearby, a quizzical look on her face. "So, you smell like you've made your nest in a ditch. I ask as a very curious, and slightly concerned clanmate, what is that all about?" The deputy queried, taking a small bite from her grouse, trying to stay mindful of the feathers that seemed insistent on getting stuck in her throat.

Her ears twitched lightly as Heronfeather approached her with a catch of her own, and she was quick to greet her with a small flick of her long tail. Deputy or not, she still couldn’t help but see the older she-cat as a same-level clanmate instead of an authority figure, which was probably one of the main reasons she acted so casual and relaxed around her compared to others.

When the question was asked, Ebonypaw’s head tilted a bit before her ears perked up and she turned to look at her fur when realization struck. She had grown so used to the smell of dirt she probably failed to realize she might be reeking of it when entering in camp after all the digging she did “Oh…it’s nothing bad, if that’s what you’re fearing. It’s just…” She looked at the partially eaten mole between her paws, trying to find the right words to explain her train of thought at the current time.

“Have you ever wondered if there is more to our territory, more than we ever thought? Right before us, yet we never realized?” Her memories went from her times in the tunnels to her Moonstone trip, her talk with Windstar…the memory making her feel like she had just swallowed several butterflies whole and now they were fluttering all over her stomach. Excitement? Nerves? Both? “Have you ever tried mole, Heronfeather?” She purred softly as she pushed the probably unusual piece of prey she had towards her. She never had been able to catch one herself before she started digging, so she couldn't help but wonder if Heronfeather ever tried one out herself “Be careful of not biting down on the claws, though, they are big and quite sharp”.

The prey between the black molly's paws was definitely new to the deputy, and she listened to her talk with a bemused expression on her chocolate-brown face, deciding not to interrupt until she was done speaking. Thank the Stars for that, because immediately the mole was offered to Heronfeather, and had she not had the prelude to the invitation, she would have declined without hesitation. But instead of apprehension, curiosity had found its way deep into her heart, and the molly just nodded- words escaped her for the time being. Crouching down and heeding the apprentice's warning about the claws, she took a bite and was delightfully surprised that the mole didn't taste like the dirt it was caked in.

"What did you say this was called again- a mole?" she asked, voice clear of any persecution or judgement, just pure interest and fascination. "And what do you mean more to our territory? Where this mole came from, I presume," she seemed to still be grasping the concept of this new piece of prey - where had it been all her life? "Sorry if I'm being too inquisitive, or if it sounds like I'm interrogating you, Heronfeather chuckled, reviewing her words a little more carefully before speaking. The last thing she wanted to do was to have Ebonypaw completely shut up about this new exploration, and for some inexplicable reason the deputy wanted to know more, and to be apart of this chapter of the apprentice's life. "I just find this all so new, and so thoroughly interesting. Plus this mole tastes amazing, and if I have to go and catch another myself to taste one again, point me in the right direction and I'll be off!"

Ebonypaw’s whiskers twitched in delight when the deputy agreed to try the mole. Even she had been wary the first time she had eaten one, being a complete stranger to this kind of prey until that very day. It was just part of any cat’s nature to be cautious towards the unknown, reason why she couldn’t help but feel a heavy weight being lifted from her shoulder when Heronfeather seemed curious and willing to listen, instead of scolding and restrictive.

“It’s….it’s hard to explain with words, if I’m being honest…its like trying to explain the feeling of wind on your fur to a cat that has never felt it before” She licked her nose as she tried to think on a good way to put it into words. Right then and there, jealousy towards those with the ability to explain things easily bubbled within her chest “I accidentally found out on my own, after Windstar foreshadowed such event during my Moonstone journey…”.

It was then that she felt like something had popped into place within her mind, ears perking up and golden eyes shinning with newfound confidence. The move would have its risks, she was aware, very aware…but, if Heronfeather was so willing to listen, maybe there was a chance she would be willing to give her a chance at showing her? Fear of the unknown would be a constant that Ebonypaw would need to face if she wanted to make this knowledge public, but avoiding it just because of her own fear of rejection would lead her nowhere, and the tunnels she had grown to appreciate so much would be as empty as when she found them when she passed away if she never gave the first step to overcome it.

“I…I can show you…” She had to force the words out of her muzzle to keep them from getting stuck in her throat instead “I feel it would be better than me rambling over and over…..”.