#willowchest

Now Willowchest is asking herself what she was thinking as she takes Rimepaw out to gather moss, and the younger molly’s paws are stamping against the ground as she reluctantly follows her. “But can’t we do something more…I don’t know, exciting?” Rimepaw asks, her tail drooping low. “Like practicing hunting and seeing who can catch the most amount of prey before the sun sets! Or beating each other up–without claws, of course. Or putting a thorn in Baysplash’s nest. Or collecting bugs! Why gathering moss?”

“First of all, I already thorned Baysplash’s nest a few days ago,” Willowchest says. “Second of all, I think you’ve already got enough dead bugs in your nest. Third of all, this will really help if you do it consistently. I mean, I get it, I get it, gathering moss isn’t the most exhilarating thing to do in the world but does everything have to be? This is only moss-tly harmless, after all.”

Rimepaw flicks some dirt onto Willowchest’s snout.

“Okay,” Willowchest coughs. “Not my best, I’ll admit. But I promise that gathering moss is going to help build up some strong muscles and make you the best warrior that you can–hey, where’re you going? You know, if you fail to gather all the moss all of it is just going to clump together and create the Mossster! You don’t want any Mosssters lurking around in our beaches, do you?”

Huh. Did the Mossster only ever work on me?

No matter what Willowchest does, however, she can’t quite get Rimepaw to take it seriously. And by the next morning after Rimepaw’s received a thorough scolding from Puddledawn, Willowchest finds her waiting by the fresh-kill pile. Willowchest approaches Rimepaw again, raising her chin slightly. “Alright, well, I hope that you’re ready to learn again today, otherwise Stormstar might just put both of us on moss duty for the next moon. And trust me, you don’t want to hear what either Puddledawn or Baysplash would have to say about that–stuff of nightmares, you hear me?”

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Rimepaw asks, tilting her head.

“That depends, do you consider smug looks and condescending mews ‘that bad?’” Willowchest retorts, lashing her tail. “Nobody likes a stuffynose, alright? They fill your ears with dust and make you sneeze on it.”

“What?”

“Now come on,” Willowchest says. She sighs, and lowers her voice this time. “Look, we can do something more exciting this time, okay? I’ll even let you catch the biggest, fattest fish in the ocean…so long as you don’t challenge me. Then I’d catch something even bigger, but when has a little competition ever hurt anyone? But–no, I should focus on teaching you. So…can we at least try to work together today? So we can both learn things from each other.”

Plus, she’d look ridiculous if that whole dramatic mini speech she made to Stormstar about being ‘the best possible mentor for Rimepaw’ would go to waste.

Still, what she said is enough to make Rimepaw nod her head tentatively, her blue eyes deepening with contemplation. “Alright,” Rimepaw finally says. “I’ll try harder this time. Sorry, about, uh…yesterday. I just thought I’d do something more–”

“–Dramatic?” Willowchest purrs. “Totally representative of all your future potential at once? Yeah, I get it. But let’s just start with small bites at that fish for now, okay? I’ll teach you how to hunt and use your claws and teeth for things other than nagging at other cats–which is also a very useful skill!–and then we can hold all the hunting competitions we want. I can’t promise that you’ll win many of them, though.”

“Okay, I get it,” Rimepaw says, her voice hardening–not out of hostility, but out of eagerness. “Fine! Show me how to fish then and I’ll catch anything better than you can!”

Well, that’s done it.