Knowing that she would give birth soon, Briarthorn was doing as much as she could to contribute to the Clan before she was stuck in the nursery all day every day. If Owlflight and Sorrelstar had their way, she would already be in there, preparing or whatever. She wasn't stupid - she knew she needed to take it easy and should no longer attend border patrols or try to hunt, but she still wanted to stretch her legs and be involved in the Clan life until she could no longer possibly to do it.
Taking a step out of her den, Briarthorn made her way over to the center of camp so she could get everyone's attention. "ShadowClan! Come here for your weekly tasks!" She had done the same last week, but again, she was trying to do everything she could before being sentenced to her time in the nursery.
""
No, Flaxenkit wasn't a warrior. No, he wasn't an apprentice. But, StarClan be damned, he still wanted to help out his beloved clan. His frame, looming around the height of a middle-age apprentice, found itself within the slowly growing group of cats around Briarthorn, waiting for their tasks. While many seemed to verbally announce their presence, Flaxenkit chose to keep quiet, waiting patiently for the older she to make her way to him.
Ratshadow made her way over, happy to get a task. It had been a while since she did one of these.