Maggotkit offers a wooden smile, catching the look in Morningkit's eye. It understands that she's just been treated a little unfairly; here she was, baring the truth of her origins, only to be lied to by one friend (Maggotkit) and met with silence by another (Frogkit). That's not a very nice thing, it thinks, but it doesn't feel bad enough to drop the lie. Maybe it'll find some other way to make up for it, maybe it won't. So long as it can tell an entertaining lie, Maggotkit doesn't see any urgency in it telling the honest truth. The story of a maggot-turned-kitten was far more charming than what it understood to be the real circumstances of its birth.

Maggotkit drops the split-second brooding and lights up, thrilled by the plan to hang with the elders for a bit and already inelegantly fumbling its way out of Morningkit's nest to accompany her on this outing—but, oh!

It winces, ears twitching flat in silent complaint as Frogkit erupts in outrage. Maggotkit scrambles closer to the pair, tail bristling in alarm and face crumbled in a disapproving frown. It's terribly fond of Frogkit, terribly amused whenever she's upset like this, but it doesn't want her to yell at Morningkit. It had been so worried that its friend might like each other more than it that it hadn't considered the other potential problem: what if its friends didn't like each other at all? That didn't seem much better.

"What's Morningkit supposed to know?" Maggotkit asked, unmoving in spite of Frogkit's beckoning tail-flick. It asks because it also doesn't know, hasn't yet learned of what happened with Flowerheart and Crowtooth and Frogkit, too. It had meant to find time to ask, but there's other things going on right now. "Don't yell, Frogkit," it adds in a chastising tone that falls flat due to how easily it is to tell that Maggotkit's trying not to laugh. Frogkit's just so silly when she's mad.