For many reasons, she was glad she was a mentor to Snakepaw. He was born as a runt, small and the most unexpected out of the four. In fact, she had feared he was a stillborn. Luckily enough, he was well alive and healthy, even now.
Perhaps it was a mother’s worry that he would be bullied by other cats. Some might’ve viewed him with disdain or whatnot. If anything, she felt a need to protect him, and to teach him to protect himself. After all, it was what a mother had to do. He was nearly a warrior now, though, still had a few moons in front of him to conquer.
She stood by the entrance of camp, looking into the crowd for the familiar form of her son. The morning was a good time to train. The sun had not reached it’s peak, nor had the night’s breeze dissipated completely yet.
// Snakepaw! sorry for the lateness!
— "speaking in #0081ff" —
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