Pavlova paused to yawn as Mossclaw padded into camp, his tail slowly swaying back and forth. He tossed a glance over his shoulder. Good, she thought, letting the satisfaction twitch in her whiskers as he turned back toward the camp, Soon he'll be feeling tired. She had observed the effect of yawns making other cats drowsy with Eliza, as one of the first experimentations of her relatively short life.

It was a bleak day in winter, and Pavlova was sprawled across the grass, soaking up the little sunlight that leaked through the cloud cover. Eliza had promised to come over to chat, but she had yet to show up. Pavlova didn't mind. She enjoyed sunbathing, alone with her thoughts.

Eliza's meow interrupted her thoughts. "Hi Pav!" the gray-brown tabby chirped, leaping in front of her, "Sorry for being a little late, my Twolegs didn't want to let me out because it's so cold."

"Oh, it's fine," Pavlova meowed, sitting up. She felt a yawn tugging at her jaw. An afternoon nap was calling her. 

Eliza smiled, curling her tail around her paws as she sat. "So, have you made any new interesting discoveries?" she asked, licking her paw and drawing it over her ears.

Pavlova was about to detail her most recent discovery - her Twolegs were particularly fascinated if she acted like them, clicking on their keyboards and staring at their screens as if it interested her. Unbeknownst to her, they had recorded her on their phones and posted it to YouTube, where she would soon become a sensation. She stopped her Twoleg mimicking soon after, becoming bored with the idea, but her Twoleg were relentless in trying to make her repeat the actions. 

But the she-cat didn't want to explain her newfound discovery. Eliza was smart, sure, and she had the uncanny ability of actually liking when Twolegs stroked her back or talked to her in their high-pitched voices. If she got a hold of her new information, it was a possibility that Eliza could wield it better than her.

Pavlova wouldn't let that happen no matter how much she loved Eliza.

So it was definitely a lie when she said, "Not really," in a lazy sort of tone. 

Eliza's eyes were bright, but they dulled like a cloud had passed in front of her. "Aww, that sucks... I was hoping we could do something cool together."

Pavlova could tell Eliza was withholding something, but she also knew Eliza would be more excited to tell her if Pavlova led her on. "Oh, yeah... do you have any ideas?" she asked.

Eliza couldn't hold it back anymore. "So I was sitting on the edge of my fence, and I got this great idea! Have you seen how Catcher and Rye like to bring prey back to their Twolegs, but their Twolegs hate it so much? What if we caught some birds or something and left it on their doorstep to see what happens?"

Pavlova had noticed that too, but she hadn't entertained the thought of juvenilely pranking their neighbors. Catcher and Rye were just as hiddenly devious as their namesake, but Eliza hadn't seemed to notice this. She enjoyed talking to them. Pavlova couldn't grasp the length of the toms' stupidity.

"I don't know," the white she-cat responded with a soft sigh. "They're kind of annoying."

"Rye is so nice, though," Eliza pushed back. "Won't it be funny when they're getting punished for something they didn't do?"

"Wow, you're never... mean like this," Pavlova observed coolly. A yawn started pulling at her chin again, and this time she couldn't resist. She stretched out her jaw, giving in to the relaxing feeling that crept through her limbs. "Pardon me..."

Eliza looked slightly hurt. "Fine, then we won't have to have any fun," she muttered under her breath. "It wasn't my idea anyways. Angel told me."

Pavlova gave a slow nod. "Whatever."

Eliza's jaw expanded into a yawn. "Sorry," she meowed, giving her head a little shake. "I guess I'm tired now! Well, maybe we can do something tomorrow if that's fine." She seemed to have forgotten about her offended state of manner.

"Okay," Pavlova meowed simply, but the gears in her head were turning. A yawn was so significant - a yawn was so important. It had interjected what Pavlova had been feeling - tired - in Eliza. 

For a few heartbeats, Pavlova entertained the thought of doing an experiment with the Clan cats - would older cats be more susceptible to what she had deemed an infectious yawn? But she had other priorities, and those priorities included the fine figure of Fogtail, who was sitting a few tail-lengths away from her. 

"Thank you," she meowed to Mossclaw. He had paused next to the freshkill pile during her not-so-brief reminiscence. "For the training, I mean." Pavlova knew cats loved being appreciated. She was curious as to how this applied to Clan cats - a little experiment wouldn't interrupt the aforementioned priorities.

"I am your mentor, you know. You don't need to thank me," Mossclaw meowed. He spun on his paws and left before Pavlolva could apologize or question his statement. 

Hmm.

Pavlova made her way over to Fogtail. Eliza - well, Wrenpaw - was sitting with him and Hollyfur. Well that's a problem, Pavlova noted as she stared sideways into Hollyfur's eyes. Pupils dilated.

Love.

She quickly slid into the conversation with a gracious smile dancing in her eyes. "Hello, Wrenpaw. How was your first training session?" she asked. "With... Dustwhisker, was it?" She wasn't hesitant with her answer at all, but she had come to know that other cats found it strange when she recollected details without a hint of doubt.

Wrenpaw's blue eyes were gleaming. They dilated slightly as she met Pavlova's gaze. "Hi Pav! It was great - Dustwhisker was so great! She's so great at jumping. Don't you just love SkyClan, Pav?" She tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Oh, yes, it's very different from sitting around with our Twolegs all day long," she answered with a nod. The other warriors seemed mildly surprised at her mention of Twolegs, but no one commented.

"I guess," Wrenpaw meowed with a short nod. "So, Hollyfur, what were we talking about... oh, yes... so could you continue your story?" Her whiskers twitched apprehensively.

Hollyfur shifted on her paws, casting a glance over at Pavlova. "So, I was on patrol with Lionsong, and she told me that she caught the scent of a fox. And, y-you know—well, okay, you don't know... but I'm terrified of foxes." She laughed nervously. "It's a long story."

"Oh, do tell..." Pavlova meowed, eyes narrowed. 

If she was going to manage to get Fogtail on her side, this she-cat needed to be removed at whatever cost. 

And while her clicking with Mossclaw was a positive emotion, she wanted to test the hypothesis of negative emotions with conditioning. 

"Her parents and littermates were killed when she was a young apprentice," Fogtail cut in harshly.  "By a fox."

Pavlova had to resist the urge to purr with delight.

brought to you by rio :3