She sat herself down toward the edge of the clearing. Perhaps if she were there, then nobody would bother her. Ears pinned to her skull, Gingerpaw awaited something, or someone's, presence. She didn't know what she was waiting for, but that didn't seem to matter, really.

A red-furred figure popped up in her peripheral vision and immediately, she suppressed a shiver. Sitting up straight, she waited for a few moments and eventually rose carefully to her paws. This motion seemed to notify the tom of her existence. He turned and his ears immediately perked up, eyes narrowing in her direction, and his maw opened.  Gingerpaw didn't need to hear in order to tell that he was snarling.

Redhawk approached her, and without really much of a warning, he shoved against her. She tumbled easily to the ground in front of the elder's den. Resolving herself to conceal her expression, she looked to her mentor. Yet, before much could happen, a bundle of moss was in her face and then on the ground in front of her. Confusion flitted through her and she pulled herself into a sitting position, eyebrows knitting together. Why did he do that?

Yet, the tom pointed aggressively at the den behind her. His skull was tipped down and clear anger was scrawled across his features. The mild light from the sky above shone down upon him and illuminated his features in some sort of strange, sharp light. The she-cat nodded, understanding flitting through her figure, and she picked up the moss and stood up. The warrior gave a harsh dip of his skull, and, pivoting upon his paw, he spun around and walked off.

Silence settled around her and she shifted almost uncomfortably as she looked back to the den. A small sigh escaped her maw and immediately, she regretted it. The red tabby tom furiously stormed back over, and she turned away. Had I been too loud? She could only see his puffed red coat in her peripheral vision and really, she didn't want to turn back.

Stiffly, the she-cat turned to peer at the tom behind her.

His maw was stretched wide and he stomped his paw every few moments. His lips drew back as he yelled furiously at her, but to her, nothing happened. It was silent, and it always had been. There was no magical herb to help her hear. There was no magical herb to allow her to gain a mentor who didn't shout at her. There was nothing she could do except simply wait and watch him scream, watch him stomp his paw every few moments . . . simply just watch the tom.

Eventually, she nodded with a small twitch of her ears. She didn't know what else to do or say. She knew what he was likely saying. Don't do that. Just do what you're supposed to. Do what I want you to do or you'd best not do anything at all. Gingerpaw knew his stupid rules already and knew what she was supposed to do and knew what he wanted but still, he couldn't find solace in this fact.

He just had to go on and on for moons and moons, even though he knew she couldn't hear him. Even though he knew that his yellings were only disturbing everyone else within the clearing, even though he knew that no matter what he said, she'd 'end up disappointing him anyways'. That was probably what he thought, anyway. He was dumb. Yet, he was her mentor and there was nothing she could do except wait for him to stop.

After a little while longer of the extreme face motions, the tom stopped. He lifted a paw and jabbed it at her, his eyes narrowed. She simply nodded and the tom turned around, stalking off once more. Unwilling to wait for anything else to inevitably happen, the she-cat slipped quietly into the elder's den, the moss clamped tightly within her jaws.

All three elders were clumped together in the corner of the den. The tiniest one held a ragged black pelt and the dark-ginger she-cat couldn't help but shift. His pale orange eyes snapped over to her and seemed to survey her figure before giving a small huff. The short-haired white tom beside him glared at her, his pale green eyes shining with irritation. He had ginger patches, and yet they weren't similar to her pelt at all.

The tom shook his skull sharply at her, and the plump she-cat next to him looked down at her pelt with her sharp yellow eyes. Her tangled gray tabby pelt seemed to stick out against the far cleaner pelts of the other elders beside her. Her maw stretched agape and she seemed to be yelling, yet once more, nothing happened to Gingerpaw. She knew that they weren't saying anything nice but that didn't matter.

One pointed down at the area beneath them with a harsh glare and with a jolt, the she-cat realized that there was no moss. Obviously.

After she had continued to stand there for a few moments, eventually she set down the moss and the group of three began to hiss to each other about her once more. She could sense their words were venomous, and really, it wasn't hard to tell. The plump she-cat opened her jaws and, supposedly, yelled once more. This time, she lifted her paws and waved them around in the air, her features twisting to seem almost dumb-like, with her maw stretched agape.

It was strange, but the she-cat allowed her tongue to loll out of her mouth, her paws now flailing within the air. Confusion swarmed Gingerpaw but she simply watched carefully, and eventually, the elder stopped. She waved her paws at Gingerpaw, and upon seeing the apprentice blink back in response, all three of them opened their maws and laughed, and after they did, they used their paws to try to cover such up. But she had seen it.

She didn't need to know what they had said to know it'd been mean. She would never know what they'd said but simply, it didn't matter. Gingerpaw would never know what anyone would say about her without her hearing. That was how it was and how it would always be. And despite all this, she allowed a determined expression to surface upon her features. I can still be positive.

But, really, what else was she supposed to do? As she turned and gathered up a large section of old moss, she chucked it outside of the den, continuing to do so as she moved around the den. She could see the three elders chattering away in the edges of her vision, but that didn't matter. She still kept her positive outlook. She had to.

Tossing a new portion of old moss outside of the den, she huffed and continued to shuffle around the den. She paused to take a break and she could see the elders laughing once more, their maws stretched wide as the apprentice took a small break. Gingerpaw swallowed a small burst of hurt that immediately sparked within her. Maybe if I stay positive, something good will finally come out of it.

And besides, she could be doing a lot worse. Redhawk could've been surveying her as she worked and yet, he wasn't. He could've been still yelling if he'd wanted to, but he wasn't. And so, something as simple as that . . . wasn't that good enough reason to be at least a little bit happy? The she-cat thought so, and she continued to ignore the elders as she tossed a brown strand of moss out of the den.

They were old, anyways. Why did it matter? Well, she supposed it didn't matter all that much to her. If they were trying to scold her, it didn't even matter, because she couldn't hear what they were saying anyway. Finally plucking the last bit of old moss from the den's floor, she gave a satisfied nod, exhaling as she looked back to the new bundle near the entrance of the elder's den. Approaching it, she seated herself near to it.

Amber eyes darting over to the elders, she supposed that making three nests for them would be easy enough. The moss that Redhawk had given her had certainly been enough, and she eventually began to sort the moss. She wanted to ensure that each of the three got an equal amount of moss, so she separated them as such. Yet, as her eyes wandered back to the elders, she noted one was particularly larger than the others.

Shifting a bit more moss into one of the piles, she patted down the collections of moss. Eventually, the moss ran out and she was left with three mostly-even portions of moss. Rising to her paws, she grabbed one of the portions and began to situate it into a nest. Using her paws to twirl the moss around each other, the she-cat eventually finished. She didn't know any of their names, but she did know where they all slept.

Placing the first mossy nest in where she believed the cat to sleep in, the she-cat patted it down gently. They can be picky. I want to get this right. Besides, if she'd gotten it right, it was unlikely that Redhawk would yell further at her, or the elders would laugh more at her; not that it mattered, though.

Continuing to work, she seemed finally to be done with the nests. Positioning them all in their places, she looked back to the elders, and the three of them rose from their positions. Poking around and touching their nests with a few pauses in between as though to ensure their elderly figures didn't get injured, the three eventually gave a few nods and what seemed like approving mutters.

Pleased, she picked up the old moss and slipped from the den. Gingerpaw glanced around before heading forward once more, supposing that it was her job to now throw it all away. But before she could continue walking, several kits seemed to spill out into the clearing. She paused as she watched and before she knew it, they were dashing up to her. Bouncing excitedly at her paws, the kits seemed to try to talk her.

Their little maws stretched open as they attempted to communicate, yet clearly, she couldn't hear them. She paused as though it would allow them to continue walking, yet they didn't leave and instead crowded at her paws. She looked to them and tipped her skull, confusion flashing within her eyes.

From the nursery, one of the queens stuck her head out. Gingerpaw could tell that she was yelling at the kits; her eyebrows were knitted together and her tail lashed furiously behind her. Yet, the kits seemed to yell back, their maws stretching wide one more as they pointed to the moss that the apprentice held. Confusion for the apprentice could only grow, unsure of what to do or what to say to any of the cats involved.

A brown-and-white tom approached her and dipped his skull to her. Aren't you my brother? Can't you explain to me what's going on? Perplexed, she opened her maw and the moss immediately fell. Swiftly, he snagged the moss and squished a small portion of it into a ball, leaving the rest of it on the ground. The ginger-furred apprentice watched as the apprentice spoke to the kits, and after a moment, he threw the ball of moss at them. Their eyes lit up and one of them chucked it back.

The apprentice grinned and threw it back, and it was only then when she realized that they were playing mossball.

Gingerpaw gently nudged the rest of the moss forward, and all of the kits opened their maws wide once more, lifting their paws high up in the air as they jumped. Their muzzles began to move swiftly once more, little paws waving in the air, but she could do nothing except simply watch.

The brown-and-white tom gently nudged her and pointed at the mossball, and he tipped his skull. She nodded uncertainly. He then pointed to the kits, once more tipping his skull. She nodded again. He finally pointed with his paw at her and allowed his head to tilt. They want to play with me.

He laid down the moss and he looked back at the kits. His expression was calm and even a little charming, with his amber eyes and broad muzzle turning to the same place, coordinated as he soon enough glanced to her. She nodded excitedly. I love mossball. Of course I want to play! She attempted to mouth 'yes' to the kits, her ears perked happily as she looked down to them.

Yet the kits offered a confused expression to her, their small skulls tipping as they looked to each other as if to see if any of the others had an answer. She twitched her tail and seemed to realize that none of the kits realized she couldn't hear them. She lifted a paw and pointed to her ears, and promptly after she shook her head. The kits just appeared more confused, though the other apprentice caught their attention and began to explain something.

All of the kits nodded, and Gingerpaw let out a sigh of relief.

One of the kits snagged the bundle of moss and after a few moments of fashioning it, a large mossball finally plopped upon the ground. The kit offered a large grin before nudging it over to Gingerpaw, and she took it tightly within her jaws. Unwilling to hurt the creation that the kit had made, she waited as the kit told the others something. Within a swift motion, all five of them rose and dashed over to the nursery.

The brown-and-white tom followed diligently, sticking toward the side. Gingerpaw could only assume that he planned to watch the game, and she happily followed the kits. The grin across her features was only momentarily dampened by the fact that it couldn't be as bright as she would've liked, and that was only because she grasped the large mossball within her jaws.

As the kits all gathered nearer to the nursery, the she-cat threw the mossball.

Their mouths stretched wide as they all swarmed close to it, attempting to get the closest to it. The largest kit, one with a wonderfully shiny gaze, jumped up and hit it back to her. Gingerpaw lightly hit it back but she allowed her amber eyes to drift around to survey the area around her.

Her brother was settled near the side, watching with calm and overall positive expression. His eyes would brighten as the kits jumped for it and his tail swished momentarily every few moments. Just like how he always was. She spotted the two queens nearby, almost as though they were brooding together over their kits. But it didn't seem exactly like they were focused on their kits. It almost seemed like, to Gingerpaw, that they were more focused on her.

She turned back to the kits and decided she didn't care. Hitting the mossball back to the kits, she happily watched as they seemed to scream over its return. It didn't matter what any of the others thought about her. I can play mossball all I want all and still be the best warrior of MistClan.

The kits managed to get it back to her and she smiled brightly at all of them, happily allowing her features to brighten as she hit the mossball back. Once more they all went wild, maws stretching wide as they jumped up and down. One of them reached up with a broad paw and slapped it back to her, and her eyes brightened as she hit it back.

Once more it was returned, and her eyes brightened. She could see her brother's paws lifting as though to cheer on the group of cats, and she hit it back to the kits. One of the kits with a lighter-toned pelt let out a loud yowl that she couldn't hear, but could assume had happened due to the quick opening and shutting of her jaw, sprung forward and hit it back.

Good things will come with positivity and kindness, she thought, as she hit the mossball back.

Written by Lamb
Edited by Mack