livin like we're renegades [chey]

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[attr="class","text"]morning greeted him like a friend, sunlight entering the apprentice's den without a knock. the large tom felt the warmth press against his face, and with that he fanned his lids to a dawn that made him squint. his fur bristled almost simultaneously with consciousness making its way back to his senses, and his head jolted up away from his white tipped paws. had he slept in? the youngster was typically good about keeping attendance with his mentor. though to begin with, he wasn't entirely sure how fickleheart would've reacted to such a case. he was a religious cat, the annotation causing rushpaw to flick one of his fluffy ears as a sign of an overwhelming memory of preaching and scolding. surely someone as strict as him would have it in his interest to punish him, or have his head. one of the two, most certainly.

rushpaw's heart settled as he took in the snores and mumbles of his peers. some bodies were sprawled lazily against the grasses of their shared den, others coiled tightly in what looked like giant piles of feathers. he too was quickly growing out his downy-like fur, and he wondered briefly (he was always the insightful one) how much they would all change too once they have moved on to the warriors den. unable to fall back asleep, he slowly rose to his paws, only stretching once he had politely excused himself from the others. the sun greeted him again, his long fur fully exposed to its embrace and he yawned as that same warm radiance blanketed over his bod.

the stillness that resided within camp surprised him at first, his thoughts suddenly feeling louder in his mind without reality to interrupt him. clearly the dawn patrol had left not too long ago. he calculated swiftly that fickleheart must've accompanied the hunt, and he put his previous worries to rest.

keen eye locked in on to the tumbleweed of ginger fur a several fox lengths away, his eyes widening in shock. Clearly by its size, a kit had found its way out of the nursery. Rushpaw was not typically one who was inclined towards kits. Even still there was a high sense of responsibility based on this witnessing, and instinctively he hurried over to young feline. Shyness crept on him then, and his posture rapidly growing more timid as he approached the she-cat. "uh... foxkit. a-are you okay?" he mewed after recognizing her, and he restrained himself from getting too close. "did your mother say it was alright for you to be out here?"