HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEE

When it is time for Duskripple to wake, they feel their bones crack and shift. To the laughter that comes from their right, ear flicks to figure out who it might be. Shifting through their friends. Their family. Beetleburr? No…too soft. Beetleburr is loud even when whispering.  Ravenwing? Too precise, too quiet. And the tone she has even when she is sad, that small hint of hope? Not there. Buzzardcall? No…their voice rings in staccato. A direct antithesis to Pricklyheart’s yowling hiss. Staccato to a rattly legato.

No, when they run through everyone, they know exactly who it is. The soft wind chime that Tetratwist commands. The confidence that was once hidden under years of worry present. It’s a clarion, a soft musical command. Something which all his friends command, even if they do not know they do so. It leads him up, and up, and up. Until he rests his head on top of her head. The squawk she lets out before a laugh escapes her? 

The choir could take notes from it.

“Dusk! Off!” earns a quiet “Shhh. You’re being loud. Lemme enjoy this.” And a shove off with a grin on both of their faces. They bump heads together. His head fitting slightly between her two muzzles. Whoever said she wasn’t built for friends is a liar. She is perfect for hugs and slotting oneself in nests when the nightmares get too loud.

He remembers when he walked up to her, not realizing who it was. Eventually, pulling her trust, and gaining the courage to ask her to describe herself. That time it wasn’t pretty, but eventually, he felt comfortable telling her how he saw her. Or imagined how she was at least. They think it was that moment that pulled them in to become friends. 

One of his best friends. At least eventually.

“We’re playing tag?” he asked, head moving to the side. Feather flicking down.

“Duh.-“ she paused, leaning to poke his side. “You’re it, by the way.”

She giggled and scampered off, leaving Dusk with his maw agape. He grinned before chirping and picking up after her. After the other voices hooting and hollering. Luckily there were no bears there. Since it let them laugh and fall into a pile, curling into a nest only fit for two cats at most. They curled up outside the pile, taking in the breathing of each cat. That they were here and okay, and the two-toned whistle that was curled up before him. So he laid his head on her neck and let his ears droop. Eventually perking up to her garbled stretching as the warriors went about their business. And all Dusk could let out was a grumble as the heat slowly left.

They bet she looked radiant at the little shindig she got together. Just like how Buzzard described themselves. They tried to find her, but couldn’t. At least until the end when she was tuckered out, and taking down decorations. He bumped into her lightly, asking “Need help?” before offering to help her carry some of the more flimsy things on his back. He felt the wordless thank you. In that moment, he thinks that she’s become someone so strong. So beautiful since they met as shy and crass apprentices. 

And as they fell into their respective nests, Dusk is proud to have Tetra consider him a friend.  For all the stories, all the games, all the memories she has brought him after all. And he feels thanks as he drifts off for another day in Caveclan.