Snowyspots covered his eyes with his forepaw, scrunching up his face and rolling over away from the sunlight. He'd only gotten to his nest an hour or two ago, having spent the entire night tending to the garden. Well, tending to the garden for a little while, then worrying about the itchiness in his ear and convincing himself flesh-eating maggots had tunneled into his brain, working himself into a nervous wreck, realising it was actually just a mosquito bite, worrying about all the terrible viruses that could be spread like that and all the awful plagues he probably had never even heard of... And then, finally, sometime just before dawn, he'd crawled into his den, only trodden on two or three tails in the process, and curled up to sleep. And now, his sibling wanted to go for a walk. Outside. Where there were all sorts of unsanitary forms of dirt and someone might sneeze on them. No where was safe from the unseen maladies lurking in the air.

Letting out a soft sigh, he got to his paws and smiled patiently at his sibling. "One day," he told them, in that high, nasally voice of his that was all nerdy and serious, "you're going to realise I'm right about all this and then you're never going to want to venture outside ever again." He trotted out of the den and into the sunlit clearing. "Alright, now, listen closely, because we need a strategy to avoid all possible late-summer allergens: we'll walk - safely and steadily - in a controlled circle around the camp, and, heh, if we're feeling really adventurous, maybe venture as far as the waterfall." He said the last bit like it was a particularly naughty thing to even consider, covering his mouth with his paw and giving Bunnywiggle a sort of just-eaten-a-lemon, scrunched up smile. "That way, we'll hopefully avoid the worst of the pollen. You know how sensitive my sinuses are."

“I can’t handle it,” Snowyspots replied prissily, raising his nose and closing his eyes like his sibling’s comment was utterly offensive, “that’s the entire point.” At the mention of the witch’s hut and the apparent adventure Bunnywiggle had in store for them, he groaned; and, at the mention of their sister, he gave a dismissive little scoff. “What do we want with her? I think she made her position on this entire matter and her feelings for us pretty perfectly darn clear, thank you very much. If she had wanted to see us, she wouldn’t have stayed in WinterClan and that, my dear Bunny, is that. As it is, she’s a perfect stranger as far as I’m concerned.”

Let’s go! Snowyspots let out a long-suffering sigh and trotted neatly after his sibling, nose still raised in the air. “Remember what we talked about after last time, Bunny – watch out for rabbit holes, keep your eyes open for stinging ants, and do not, and this is very important, do not go anywhere near a mother bird’s nest. That encounter alone shaved two years off my life, I’m sure – and, with the average lifespan of a wild cat being in the region of a mere eight years,” he let out a prim, matter-of-fact little laugh, “that’s quite a considerable number.”

At the mention of their mother, Snowyspots shook his head dismissively, glancing away from his sibling. Their parents were still a raw wound, one that he’d tucked away so he could get on with being the stable, responsible figure his siblings had needed, but one that stung nonetheless; as the self-appointed eldest sibling, he’d distanced himself from them early on, matching their disdain for him with polite detachment of his own, and where his siblings might have seen them as mom and dad, he saw them as equals that had done a pretty poor job of being parents and failed them in their upbringing, and he didn’t have much tolerance for failure. “Yes, well, that was the only thing mother ever actively spoke up against, wasn’t it?” he replied crisply. “Not the systematic emotional abuse, oh, no, heaven forbid – but us wanting to make a better life for ourselves? Well, now, that was too much for poor mother dear to handle.”

Finally realising what he was saying and who he was saying it to, he glanced guiltily at Bunny and offered a small, vague smile. He never was very good at messy feelings; there was no logic in them. Maybe – maybe – I’ll listen this time. “Good,” he replied, changing the subject rather deftly, in his own humble opinion. “Best be off, then, if we want to avoid the worst of the midday sun.”

Snowyspots listened silently, not meeting their eye, as Bunny tried to defend their mother, because he loved his sibling and he’d picked up a seemingly endless supply of patience and slightly patronising listening skills as a make-shift parent; and, secretly, it made his heart melt with a certain strain of sadness to hear them still standing up for the she-cat who had never stood up for them when they’d needed her. He smiled thinly, relenting, as he always did, to his sibling’s wishes. All he wanted in the world was for Bunny to be happy, even if his own methods of toeing the line between keeping them safe and finding a way to give them everything they ever wanted could occasionally be construed as... suffocating.

“No harm in burning a little?” he echoed, voice high and tight with indignant disapproval. “No harm i—I think you’ll find there’s considerable harm in burning, and I don’t think your skin and eyes, just to name a few, will thank you for thinking otherwise, oh-ho no, siree bob!” Snowyspots followed after his sibling through the gorse tunnel, wincing at the flowers and ducking his head and back to avoid touching them; when he emerged on the other side, he wiped his forepaw over his face and head to brush off any pollen. Snowpoke. “Oh, a-ha, yes, beca—clever. Wait, Bunny, stop, your fur—“

He bounded ahead and cut in front of his sibling, forcing them to stop while he licked his paw pad and smoothed the fur between Bunny’s ears, fussing over them for a moment. “Honestly, what will the queens think of me if I let you run around like this? I’ve already been disinvited to their Sunday brunches because I forgot to bring a gift one time— me! Forgot! Me! I never forget anything, I’m so embarrassed. And you know how exlusive they are — I worked for moons to even get an invitation in the first place. Okay, there.” He let his sibling go and stepped back, nodding once in approval. “Try not to mess it up again between here and that tree, would you? Thank you. Let’s go — at a safe, even place, please. And remember those deep breathing exercises I taught you, they’re supposed to be very good if you get asthma. Which I know you don’t but it runs in the family, so you might. Okay, now— in.... and out...”

When Bunny started towards the WinterClan border, Snowyspots let out a theatrical sigh. “Oh, my, what a surprise, how completely unpredictable.” But, as unable to deny his sibling as he always was, especially when they were almost pleading, he trotted quickly after them, swerving around clumps of flowers and wrinkling his nose.

“I’ve given her plenty of chances, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten — just last week I said I hope she’s happy. I might have meant it in a slightly more sardonic sense, but the foundations were certainly there: I hope she’s happy being a rotten little traitor and choosing that ghastly old place over us. And I do! She’s our sister, blood is thicker than water, rah-rah, all that wonderful stuff — I just hope she hasn’t forgotten it.” A part of him, the brother part that loved her, hoped that they would see her, just to know that she was okay, and healthy, and as happy as she could be. The part of him that held grudges wanted nothing to do with her.

Falling in step beside Bunny, he trotted alongside them along the outskirts of the sun-lit wildflower meadow, sticking to the shade of the trees on the edge of the hill and sniffing constantly to make sure no pollen went up his nostrils. “Oh, look, Bunny,” he complained, voice slightly blocked and a little more nasally than usual, “I already have allergies.”

One step.
The rabbit slid its paw across its face, gently washing itself in peaceful bliss. It sat without a worry, content in the thought that it was safe. Oh, how wrong it was.

Two steps.
The rabbit lifted its head, ears twitching as fast as its nose as it looked around at its surroundings, listening for any sort of snap of a twig or rustle of dry, dead grass. It could find nothing of the sort. It was restless, almost identical to the memory of a young Bunnywiggle. No, bad train of thought. Focus.

Leap.
Just as Morningbird shot out from her hiding spot, the rabbit locked gazes with her, and it took off faster than she could correct herself. Instead of the fluffy fur of the rabbit she had expected to meet, Morningbird's poor face met with solid rock. A squeal of pain escaped the she-cat, and she sunk to the ground with a whimper. She had come to the border, telling herself that it was just to hunt, but, as usual, her mind kept wandering to her siblings. Her siblings that had abandoned her, left her and her cursed luck on her own. They were probably happy without her bringing them down, with her bad luck and constant injuries. Why should she care if they even thought of her? They left her. Had they ever even cared about her? Or did they just use the fact that she wanted to listen to their mother's only wish. Use it to be rid of her once and for all.

I hate how the summer’s ending. Snowyspots cast a sad, worried look at his sibling; it was as tough for him as it was for Bunny when leafbare rolled around, not that he would ever complain. It was his duty and his honour to care for them, even if it made his heart ache and left him with even more sleepless nights than usual in his bid to keep them safe and happy. He didn’t reply, instead falling into a comfortable silence as he listened to Bunny ramble on and on about everything under the sun, a small, secret smile on Snowyspot’s face.

Nearer the border, he caught their sister’s scent before he saw her and, by the time Bunny caught sight of her, there was already an imperious, judgemental scowl on his face. “Don’t get too excited,” he warned them, holding his nose in the air and trotting ahead to the border, “she might just turn tail — that does seem to be quite a habit of hers. And let me do the talking, I don’t want you getting hurt.” At the edge of SummerClan territory, he came to a stop, ignoring the small glimmer of homesickness that washed over him at the sights and smells of WinterClan. “Greetings, Morningbird,” he called, voice tight and snobbish and so very formal. “You might not remember me,” he added melodramatically, even though it had only been a moon or so, “since it’s been so long, but I’m your brother.”

About to go up and nuzzle their sister, Bunnywiggle stopped in their tracks, crestfallen that Morningbird would even suggest that they stopped caring. “No—Birdie, we—“ they said a desperate look to Snowyspots and went quiet. Unable to resist the urge to go up and some of the blood from her nose, they gave a warm smile. Completely shocked by her words, Bunnywiggle said nothing for a few moments. “Birdie, why on earth would we do that?” They really didn’t care if they were trespassing on WinterClan land, petty borders didn’t matter as much as their sister. 

Slowly and carefully, Morningbird got back up on her wobbly paws. Her blue gaze softened for a second as Bunnywiggle wiped the blood from her face, but then returned to a glare as she shifted her eyes back to Snowyspots. "You knew that I had made a promise to mother. She asked the same thing of you, but you abandoned her as well. You know I never break my promises." Somewhere, her voice had gone from hard and angry to just... broken. This time, when she went to step back, she managed it without hurting herself. She shook her head, blinking away any tears that had threatened to spill over, then settled a weak glare back onto Snowyspots. "Did you ever even give her a chance?"