truthfully, cactuspaw could imagine worse babysitters than moosepaw. it isn't that she's particularly fond or preferential toward the tom, he's got one of those weird personalities where he actually likes people, but he's tolerable. not in the preferred company sort of way, but rather in the maybe i can tolerate him variety. about the same age as her, born a kittypet but doing his best to be a good future warrior. if she didn't need him, she'd have no reason to speak to him, but all things considered, she'd take him over spiderpaw any day.
part of her whole "learning to navigate the world blind" thing involved learning to exist. without her eyes, it was all different; walking, smelling, hearing. depth perception required her eyes, and without them, she stumbled and tripped and all the scents and noises started to blur together. she had to get out of camp, had to move around, but she couldn't do so alone. so, rather than any adults bothering to deal with the bitter girl, they stuck an apprentice to watch her like she's some kit in the nursery needing babysitting. still, she doesn't complain, because she knows full and well that it could be worse. she could be stuck with spiderpaw, the crochety medicine cat apprentice that she could hardly stand sharing a den with.
she's walking awkwardly, her entire body rigid as she feels the ground warily with each step before applying pressure and moving forward. she doesn't trust herself, or the ground around her, but she doesn't want any focus on her awkward ambling, so she tries to direct focus to him. "how's, uh, training going?" that was what normal apprentices discussed, right? "you, like, excited for your ceremony? or something?" she's searching desperately for words to fill the silence, anything to make her feel like a fish out of water.