[Fawn]

That guy has a habit of making you feel guilty just for existing.

Critical yellow-green eyes witnessed the awkward exchange between mentor and apprentice, the striped kitten excusing himself from under his mentor's sharp golden stare. He could tell by their posture that they were still out of sync, mindsets refusing to match at something about each other caused a sort of...repellant effect. Huh. That's weird. It was impossible not to notice how well Lionstar usually treated his apprentices - they all unabashedly adored him, so this scenario shouldn't be any different. Then again, Lionstar had not taken on two apprentices at once, as far as Sprucefur could recall, so that could obviously be a major source of friction between the two.

Maybe Wormpaw considered himself the cause of any budding awkwardness and distance hovering between Lionstar and Featherpaw like a veil, and Sprucefur, taking into account his personal feelings, hadn't really been able to blame anyone besides Lionstar. It wasn't even a petty reason, as the half-brother of TreeClan's great lion warrior might be accused of on occasion, it was simple deduction. If Lionstar had taken into consideration Featherpaw's feelings so late into their apprenticeship, then he would've given Wormpaw to someone else for the time being, and then reassigned Wormpaw to himself after Featherpaw had taken her place within the warriors' den.

A strange sort of lurch in his stomach occurred at the thought, his musings trying to snowball around one cat in particular, but he halted it's progress before it could get much further. Featherpaw was fine. Wormpaw, on the other hand... True to his name, Sprucefur was suspecting that the striped tabby tom kitten wished he could sink into the dirt right about now, some sort of awkward dual sparring session having occupied Wormpaw's morning. With a curt nod to Lionstar - who walked by without having noticed, lost in a miasma of thoughts, most likely - the smaller, pale copy of TreeClan's leader approached the apprentice with no particular goal in mind.

Perhaps because he understood being awkward around Lionstar that he felt it necessary to speak with him, to nudge him and tell him it was okay. Sprucefur couldn't really fix what was going on between those two, and had no real intention of playing mediator, but he could at least spend some time with the kid, maybe give him a hunting lesson that wouldn't weigh on the smaller tom's shoulders like some kind of invisible rock.
"Hey," mewed Sprucefur, his features arranged almost blankly, though his eyes gave away that he meant no harm. "I'm headin' out to hunt. You can come along if you want, or wait for Daringheart to arrange a patrol."

There. A nice, open invitation. Wormpaw didn't have to accept, and it was clear that he would be cool with either answer.

[Deleted]

~Seedpaw~~
The Queen

The rythmic licking of tongue against pelt paused when a certain young tom had come accross the pale green vision of the light brown she-cat. At nine moons, the little dominatrix apprentice still help a crush on the gray tom. Tail flickering, she hurried to finish the quick was of her prestine fur before she bounced up to her paws, eyes still fully captured on their prey as she bounded over in slick, well presised pawsteps.

"I'd love to go hunting." She automatically invited herself, but alas that's who Seedpaw was. She let her cleanly groomed fur brush against Wormpaw as her place eyes flashed, "Come on Wormpaw. It'll be fun to hunt together again." Of course the sassy she-cat was talking about how Lionstar was teaching her how to hunt when her own mentor, Bloodtalon wasn't teaching her how to fight.

Seedpaw's cold green eyes darted to look at Sprucefur, almost daring him to say she couldn't come along. Who would dare to tell her, Seedpaw, no. Her tail tip twitched as a small smirk touched her light brown muzzle.

[Phoenix]

”Yes, Lionstar,” He spoke softly, keeping his voice from betraying the intense desire he felt to escape the situation and leave it all behind. Featherpaw’s presence lurked in his consciousness almost continuously, and that translated into an awkward tension he felt around his mentor. Lionstar was a good cat, he was sure. The golden leader meant well, it was just… Flicking an ear, the apprentice shoved that train of thought away as he gave his mentor a small smile. Speaking genuinely as he always did, he gave a small ”Thank you” to the other tom for the time he had spent training them. Them.

Yellow-green eyes watched the older feline walk away while he remained stationary, becoming so lost in thought himself that he barely acknowledged the lighter colored tom who paced toward him. Despite the guilt he felt at feeling it, he could not deny the relief that flowed through him with the conclusion of another training session. Against his wishes, he was beginning to dread them for the tension they caused. Wormpaw was not even sure how much he had managed to learn, as distracted as he was by being the third wheel in a mentor-apprentice pair that had previously been so successful. Remnants of it still remained in the way Featherpaw and Lionstar seemed to click, the comfortable familiarity with which they interacted. Subtle things that any other cat might have missed, but his keen eyes, adept at spying details, caught them.

This past sparring session was a prime example. Not only was Featherpaw considerably more advanced than him, but the exercise they had done would have suited two cats more than three. And even though it had eventually become a match between the two apprentices with the leader watching, Lionstar’s attention had been divided. It wasn’t fair to the she-cat who deserved her mentor’s undivided attention during training sessions throughout her whole apprenticeship, extended or not. Wormpaw sighed quietly and shook out his fur, eyes returning to the lighter tom as the paw steps neared him.

Recognizing Sprucefur, he offered a small smile similar to the one he had given the warrior’s brother moments before. Even if he was often overlooked, the tom was a nice cat. With his own experiences of being overshadowed by his older, bolder brothers, Wormpaw thought he could relate to Sprucefur, even if he did not hold a grudge against Wildpaw and Wavepaw for claiming all of the attention. It was a part of who they were, just as he did not mind stepping back and watching them shine in the spotlight. The offer to hunt was a pleasant surprise, and though he appreciated it, Wormpaw longed for the solitude of his own thoughts. Just as he opened his mouth to decline the offer, a light brown she-cat raced over to them, butting into their conversation with an air he might have called rude on any other cat.

As always, Seedpaw quickly made her presence known, living up to the reputation she had developed after long moons in the nursery. Murmuring a small greeting to the she-cat, Wormpaw could almost feel the eagerness coming off her in waves and automatically knew that he would not get to enjoy the solitude of his own thoughts for a while longer. Refusing to hunt would obviously disappoint the she-cat, and even if he was not in a particularly light-hearted mood, there was no reason to ruin hers. ”I’ll hunt with you two,” He agreed a moment later, glancing sideways at his den mate with a pleasant expression on his face. Turning back to Sprucefur, Wormpaw asked lightly, ”Was there anywhere in particular you were going to hunt?”

[Fawn]

Keeping up his casual, detached air, Sprucefur shrugged one buff colored shoulder. "Not really - we'll just go where we can find prey." Having just watched the dominating, aggressive she-kitten known as Seedpaw just waltz into their hunting trip uninvited, he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to say no.

She'd probably throw a fit if I did.

Meeting the petulant kitten's challenging stare with his own frosty one, Sprucefur considered turning her down for another couple of heartbeats, but ultimately decided that it would only cause more trouble than was necessary. The last thing I need is to get on Bloodtalon's nerves because I ditched his apprentice at camp. Actually, would that muscle-headed, battle-craving senior warrior even care? Sprucefur didn't intend to find out. Flicking a light bushy tail for both cats to follow, he took a couple of steps forward until he was certain Wormpaw wasn't dragging his paws. He wasn't hypersensitive about upsetting Wormpaw like his half-brother likely was; he didn't plan to tiptoe around the tabby tom, he would treat him like an individual, not someone to be coddled and his paw held for every little thing.

Wormpaw was a smart cat, surely. If he didn't really want to spend time with Seedpaw, Sprucefur suspected the small, lithe tom could probably ditch her somewhere between here and the Great Maple if he so chose; the forest was a big place, after all. Aware of the two drastically different personalities wrapped in fur trailing behind him, Sprucefur called over his shoulder after some thought. "Try not to scare all the prey away, you two - and give Wormpaw a little room to breathe. Don't stick to him like a burr."

Even if he got the foulest of glares imaginable, Sprucefur didn't regret speaking up, the pale tom chuckling at the imagery this conjured up. Though he had no issues with Seedpaw personally, Sprucefur would have to be a blind, deaf elder not to notice how Seedpaw had taken such a liking to Wormpaw. This was a small jab at her selectively clingy behavior as a whole, not this one instance in which it had actually happened in front of his eyes. Sprucefur's jaws parted to draw in whatever prey-scents floating in on the wind. She'll probably stick extra close to him just to spite me. Sorry Wormpaw.