Being alone, keeping herself amused, was the worst possible thing that could happen; at least, that was the belief that she held in her youthful naivete. It was an awful feeling, the lonliness of being left to her own devices, a sort of disease of life that needed a cure. And so it was that she looked for one. 

Blueberry round optics surveyed the area of camp. There was the slight hustle and bustle of the clan, midnight rapidly approaching and thusly hunting patrols coming back in from the patrols sent out at dusk, while new ones prepared to go off. But these were the concerns of the adult world, and they meant very little to Berrykit. Instead, she looked for, in the midst of the minor commotion, another kit to humor her for a while, and there were considerably less of them around. She considered for a moment that perhaps she should return to the nursery and see if she could find anyone worth bothering with in there, but the thought of returning to the stuff den filled her with an odd, indescribable resistance akin to a mild disgust. Instead, she merely waited and watched, hoping that somehow someone worth talking to would appear out of no where.