The early morning dawn softly called to her from beyond the entrance of her den, as did the birds singing and the subtle shiftings of her clanmates rising along with the sun. The clutches of sleep could no longer confine her to the warmth of her nest, as Burnetpaw yawned and stretched her body deep enough to feel the soft trembles of her tired, aching muscles. With an effort, she pulled herself to her front paws. Would living always ache this much? Would it be like this every day?

Burnetpaw’s paws sleepily clawed at the rough ground beneath her, her tail drooping down onto the dirt and dust as it slowly collected in her fur as she quivered through another long stretch. There was an involuntary twitch of her whiskers as she noticed the deep grumbles and grunts of her mentor bouncing off the small confined enclosure of the medicine cat den who had just woke along with her. Ruminating on the looks of the tom, Burnetpaw’s body— what was left of it— slightly stiffened.

“Good morning, Frozenkingdom.” The young she-cat dipped her head cautiously. She was well aware that the medicine cat wouldn’t be up for any morning conversation— he hardly ever is. Burnetpaw made sure to be unexpectant with his response, but engaged with him nonetheless. It’s probably what I would need if I were him, she concluded. Even if I didn’t know it yet.

His peace and quiet was something he had given up long ago, but having his own den had been nice. That was until he was no longer alone in here. He did not move right away as the young she-cat spoke to him. Frozenkingdom was far from a morning cat and he was sure she knew that by now, it wasn't personal - he would just rather be left alone. Mind you, if he was stuck with her for the foreseeable future he might as well humor the niceties and make it more barrable for both of them.

Ears flicking back in response to her cautious voice he turned his head to look at her tired form, "Good morning, Burnetpaw. I take it you rested well?" he muttered out, his voice deep and distant. It was not often that a lot of emotion reached his tone - those days were long gone with his hopes and dreams, but he still had manners. His mama didn't raise him to be a jerk after all.

However, he hated to admit that he found it hard to look at Burnetpaw sometimes - not because of what had happened to her physically, no he was used to those sorts of things. That did not phase him in the slightest. It was seeing such a young cat have it all ripped away before she could really experience life. Maybe it was better that way for her, this way she didn't know first hand what she was missing, unlike him. Maybe she wouldn't end up haunted by the what ifs and long for a past life she once had. Maybe this was his chance to give her something she could look forward to.

Yeah, okay. Like Starclan would ask a bitter cat like him to do something so kind. Hilarious.

“It was fine.” She mewed softly, ruminating on her answer. “It’s difficult to get a good, deep sleep once you spend most of the day resting. It all feels like sleep after a while, you know?”

Burnetpaw would describe herself as a happy cat like most others, but it was mornings like this that made convincing herself of such a difficult task. Waking up with the birds and the sun, she still retained the physical and mental eagerness of the other apprentices, and the muscle memory of optimism she once possessed. It was an energy that coursed through her body despite the lack of mobility to use it that haunted her. But no matter how she felt, no matter how ready she was to venture from camp and explore the territory, fight battles, catch fresh-kill and serve her clan on the frontlines, nothing could erase the weight of herself that tied her down. It was all nothing more than a sick joke.

Burnetpaw yawned again, gaze distant towards the den’s exit. She shook her head and forced herself back into the recent warmth of her nest. Maybe she’d find some cat to scout for herbs with today or something. Maybe that could offset some of the antsiness that she seemed to be drenched by.

She knew her mentor wasn’t the keenest conversationalist in Galeclan, but she couldn’t help herself from checking in and continuing to speak: “How was yours?” The she-cat returned her amber eyes to the larger tom, considering the way he flicked his ears and had his usual monotonously-toned answers, she tried to keep their conversations short and sweet— enough for her to feel like she’s had one, but enough for Frozenkingdon to feel like he hadn’t.