#moon 7

Moonstar blinks at him, trying to remember where her thoughts had gone before they’d been so succinctly cut off. “I’ve got to stay on top of things with my deputy out of commission, yeah?” She mews lightly. Her neck fur prickles with unease as the smile drops fully from Fogfreckle’s face.

“Yeah.” His voice is painfully blank. He turns his muzzle away from her, as if the boulders crowding in around them are somehow more interesting to look at. “S’pose so.”

Moonstar fidgets from paw to paw, unsure of the sudden tension stifling the two cats in the crammed space. She runs through her mental list yet again, turning each item over in her head like smooth pebbles to see if any of the contents could have pricked at her brother in a way she hadn’t considered. Try as she might, she can’t figure out how the term ‘water-soaked moss’ would have been able to turn his mood sour.

“You’re being really brave about this,” Moonstar starts, switching tactics. Her brother is still staring blankly into the darkness, turned away from her. “Sticking it out through the pain like this. I know it must hurt.”

She reaches out a paw once again, intending to rest it against his flick, but his ears flick backwards and he pushes himself out of reach. Her paw drops, the confusion at his attitude starting to morph into a hurt that yanks at her like brambles.

“I’m not a kit anymore, Moonstar.”

“...Yeah, I know,” Moonstar mews slowly, feeling like she’s padding on thorns. “You’re– you’re my deputy! You’re–

“Could you just leave me alone?” Fogfreckle curls into a tight ball, wrapping his tail over his nose. His shoulders are sharp in the dim light that issues from the crawlspace entrance, the fur along the back of his neck spiky and agitated. Moonstar frowns at the shape of him in the gloom.

If he doesn’t want her emotional support, fine. She swallows down the ball of hurt that is lodged in her throat like a bird bone and lets it out with a rough sigh. Screw her for trying to be helpful. He can rot, for all she cares, as long as he stays here and stays out of trouble.

She stalks towards the entrance of their makeshift den, shoulders brushing the boulder above her. “I’ll go get your moss.”