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// S W A L L O W P A W \\
clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right.

^The   older apprentice's fluffy body raised up and down as he slept, contented and stretched out in his moss bed to take up as much room as possible.   Though the obsidian tom loved sleeping more than anything else in his life, the TreeClanner found the moss beds to be quite uncomfortable. Like his black and white sister, Swallowpaw's body was quite unusually built for a TreeClanner. He had long, bony limbs with little muscular definition to suggest any tree-jumping ability and didn't even quite fit on the small square of dried up moss he had been provided with after his apprentice ceremony. To fit on the moss at all, Swallowpaw had to curl his body up as tightly as he could muster and even tense his muscles to stay in the position. Swallowpaw didn't much like his body to touch the ground; to him, the ground was cold and made for an unattractive and unkempt pelt. 

Because of the uncomfortable sleeping spot the black tom was in, the apprentice often did not get much sleep. It took Swallowpaw significantly longer for him to get settled in his nest, let alone put disruptive thoughts to bed for the night. Swallowpaw was known to be quite irate if ever woken from his sleep; no matter who was the cause of the disruption (from warriors to apprentices to even his sister). 

Unfortunately for the black tomcat, today was one of those days. From outside of the tree that held the different dens, a peculiarly colored bird flew and spotted the tree. The bird began to peck with its formidable beak -- right again the wall of the apprentice den. Swallowpaw awoke to a start, sunlight shining dimly through the opening to their part of the tree. The dark colored tom's green eyes shone with anger and he stood instantly, rising to his paws. "Who did that?" Swallowpaw barked out, his tail lashing and his mood foul. 

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ROWANPAW

The sorrel-furred she-cat lay flat on her back in her nest, all four paws up in the air, tucked close to her chest. Her tail spilled out of her nest, twitching every so often in her sleep. In her peaceable dreams, she was content, and the sound of the bird pecking around just outside the den didn't bother her. In fact, she hardly knew it was real, as she saw the bird in her dream, noisily poking around.

It was only when she heard the voice cry out indignantly that she woke. "Who did that?" Rowanpaw cast her green eyes over the sleeping forms of her denmates, spotting Swallowpaw standing. The dark apprentice lashed his tail angrily, and Rowanpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement. The fluffy she-cat sat up and shook out her fur, stretching quickly before settling back into a seated position.

A laughing purr rumbled from her chest as she eyed Swallowpaw. "Relax, scruffy, it's just a bird." Rowanpaw's smile was a mile wide, green eyes shining with laughter. Her tail moved behind her, brushing lightly back and forth over the edge of her nest. Her whiskers twitched again, laughter in her gaze, as she eyed the black tom.

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// S W A L L O W P A W \\
clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right.

^Yellow  eyes peered at the wall through slitted and hooded, furry-rimmed frames. Swallowpaw's entire look; obsidian pelt and glowing gaze made him look all too similar to Silverpelt on a cloudness night; despite the tom's vivid gaze being slightly more saturated than the stars. Swallowpaw's personality was similar to the evening sky as well being dark and brooding generally, with inconsistent spots of light and happiness. As the TreeClan apprentice blinked back the blinding light from adjusting black pupils, it was clear that this was not one of those numerous light specks of light in the night sky. Characteristically, Swallowpaw was very frustrated that he had been woken up. For the black tom, it didn't matter who or what had woken him -- he would take out his frustration on any welcoming party. When addressing the younger sorrel apprentice, he did not even bother to turn to look at her. In fact, with Swallowpaw's mind being as muddled as it was, the pure black tom did not even pay attention to who he was talking to. "Go kill it for me and bring me its severed head, will you?" the fluffy black tomcat grumbled before pushing his head close to the woody wall of the apprentice den for warmth, darkness, and to give his back legs more room to push out against the fragile, noisy moss. 

The tom fell silent for a few moments, hoping that he could just slip back into sleep despite the bright light leaking into the den. Every part of his body willed himself into sleep, his mind whispering and cooing at first and gradually becoming command-like. Go to sleep! the tom told himself, his mind like a seething hiss. The obsidian tom did not stay silent for long. After moments, the tall tom raised his head, looking at the younger apprentice with bleary eyes. "Why are you laughing, anyways? Do you take pleasure in my suffering, or something? If so, that's sick."

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ROWANPAW

Rowanpaw giggled at Swallowpaw's annoyance at the bird. "Go kill it for me and bring me its severed head, will you?" The sorrel she-cat snorted in laughter. "Yea, sure. As soon as it flies right into my paws." Rowanpaw watched as he stretched out, attempting to fit into a space much too small for him. The action got her looking down at her own nest. Her smaller size allowed her to curl up comfortably within her moss, but Swallowpaw was bigger. She wondered why he didn't press of a bigger nest. He was one of the oldest in the den, so she was pretty certain it wouldn't bother many of the apprentices too much. She wouldn't mind sharing, at least.

Before she had time to ponder the subject longer, Swallowpaw had raised his head to look at her. "Why are you laughing, anyways? Do you take pleasure in my suffering, or something? If so, that's sick." Her laughter had mostly died by now, but she smiled at the question. She curled her tail upwards, thinking a moment before she spoke. "No, I don't take pleasure in your suffering. I just find it funny that you got so upset over a little bird." Rowanpaw smiled at him, a happy light in her green eyes.

She looked down again at her own nest, glancing at the small empty spaces on either side. She had gotten a bottom-of-the-barrel nest, at the very back of the den, and there was a little wiggle room. Rowanpaw glanced back up at Swallowpaw, cramped in his nest, and decided to go out on a limb. "Swallowpaw, do you want to trade nests with me? I'm smaller, and could fit in your nest better than you. And there's a little room on each side of the moss here, so that you could expand the nest if you need to." Her smile had faded; her expression was one of genuine kindness and concern. She blinked and looked down at her paws once the words were out, ears burning hot as she thought of what he might think of her offer. It was innocent enough, in her mind, but she wasn't sure he would see it that way.