Realization

The snow clumps against Featherstep’s legs and fur as she walks after Pumpkincloud, a perpetual scowl working its way onto her muzzle. Why the fuck did she agree to this? The wind blows harshly at her face, greeting her with little specks of rain and snow that only contributes to the chill beginning to set into her bones. Her tails twitch with discomfort, and Featherstep feels the terrible itch to turn around and head home, which… Was definitely saying something, because with how cramped the Nursery had grown throughout her stay, and the fact that her kits would be apprenticed next moon— the twin-tailed molly was not feeling for being in camp any longer. 

But, Featherstep has to remind herself, her kits are part of the reason as to why she’s out here with Pumpkincloud, freezing her paws off. Leafbare was not showing any mercy or kindness toward the clan, probably any of the clans, really, and thus drastic times called for drastic measures… Like trekking outside of their borders to look for supplies. Bat didn’t seem happy with how the herbs in the Herbalist’s Den were looking, either, and Featherstep couldn’t say that she blamed him. From what she could tell, the pile had looked rather grim. … Just like the prey pile had. 

A frustrated groan erupts from her chest as she lifts a paw, shaking wet snow from her cold limb. “I wish Starclan would grant us some sort of blessing,” The warrior complains to her sister. “I know they’re just our ancestors, but… Well, if they can send cats like you prophecies, why can’t they send us a nice, juicy rabbit to munch down on?” 

From her place ahead of Featherstep, Pumpkincloud snorts before turning her head. The cream molly watches a cloud appear around her sister’s face, which dissipates just as quickly as it becomes airborne. “Cats like me?” The orange molly sounds playful as she presses on, a challenging smirk rising onto her muzzle. “At least I can walk in the snow without complaining every five minutes!” 

Featherstep squints her eyes in displeasure at the jab, because it’s all too true. “It’s not my fault you take some sick pleasure out of walking out here, freezing your pelt.” She hisses, her ears flattening down against her head as she spares another glance around their surroundings. In all honesty, Featherstep has no idea where they are right now— all she can scent is the crisp, cold smell of ice that burns her throat and mouth when she parts her jaws. It’s just another reason for her to despise cold weather, to despise Leafbare, she decides. 

Ever the optimist, Pumpkincloud laughs at her sister’s misery, because of course she would. Featherstep’s face remains sour as Pumpkincloud opens her mouth once more. “It’s not that bad, Fea, you’re just going so slow you can’t warm up. C’mon, put a little pep in your step!” When Pumpkincloud exclaims this, she bounces her weight from one paw to the other, doing silly little hops that send each leg lifting up from the snow. Featherstep stares at her sister as though she’s just grown two heads… Which, with Pumpkincloud, she would fully believe could happen. 

“You’re insane.” Featherstep concludes in a hiss, her eyes visibly rolling. “Spending way too much time with Littledove, too. You seriously need some company that isn’t that nervous wreck.” But even with her criticisms leaving her tongue and coming out into the world through bitter words, Featherstep’s pace quickens. She breaks into a light sprint, although the snow makes it difficult by muffling her steps and slowing her legs. Pumpkincloud watches, only partially amused. 

“Don’t be so mean to them.” She grumbles when her sister comes close enough, lifting a paw to cuff Featherstep around the ears. The cream molly narrowly avoids the swipe of her sister’s paw by ducking her head, squinting her eyes once more in irritation. “Not my fault that you can’t handle the truth.” 

Pumpkincloud only rolls her eyes before focusing on Featherstep’s initial complaint. “I’ll have you know that I do have friends— outside of you, Kinkbite, Tawnysnarl, Bat and Littledove.” Her nose sticks up in the air, and she looks rather proud of herself. Featherstep snorts. “Really now?” 

“Uh huh.” Pumpkincloud replies, smiling. “For one, I’ve been talking with that new cat— Hollyhop—” Featherstep interrupts her with a bitter laugh. 

“Hollyhop?” She echoes the name her sister stated. “Isn’t he also a big nerd? All in on the peace stuff? I guess I can’t blame him since he’s from Lynxclan. Probably a nice change of pace for them.” Featherstep wasn’t well acquainted with the chimera tomcat, and she didn’t have any plans to talk to him anytime soon. He was a little too relaxed for her own tastes. 

Pumpkincloud shakes her head, her smile a little more annoyed than before. “If you would let me finish, Miss Impatient,” The orange tabby chides, making Featherstep shake her head. “I am also friends with Badgerthroat. He’s nice.” 

Featherstep wiggles her eyebrows playfully. “Nice, or do you like him?” She flashes a grin when Pumpkincloud scowls at her, up until the orange molly lifts a paw and pushes at her shoulder. Featherstep easily keeps her balance, however, and avoids falling into the snow because of it. Starclan only knows how that would have ended, if she hadn’t. 

“Friend.” Pumpkincloud repeats, but Featherstep notices the way that her sister’s tone raises in pitch. It makes her gaze at Pumpkincloud curiously, but the molly says nothing as she begins to pick up their former pawsteps. “What about you?” Pumpkincloud suddenly asks, trailing after her sister. Featherstep hums. “What’cha mean?” 

“Do you have any friends?” Pumpkincloud teases, flashing a big grin. Featherstep has to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. “Aside from Leopardfern, anyway.” The question almost makes Featherstep want to stop and think. Away from her connections through family and blood, does she… Really have anyone that she would consider herself friendly with? There was that Sootpaw cat, moons ago, but she hasn’t seen her in quite some time, and they’d only met once. 

Her smile pulls down, and her tails flick with uncertainty. Spending so much time in the Nursery, Featherstep hadn’t stopped to consider the idea of the company of other cats. The twin-tailed she-cat opens her mouth to speak, perhaps even be vulnerable with the cat she’s grown to trust most in the world, but pauses when she hears rustling from some of the nearby greenery. 

“Did you hear that?” Featherstep mews, worry in her tone. Pumpkincloud turns her own head into the direction of the sound, nodding her head. Shit.