Padding towards the little outcove recently cleared in Thunderclan camp, Cinderpaw could feel the anxiety creeping up her throat. They were too young, too little... they shouldn't have to worry about defending themselves, dammit! But the more time ticked on and the more kids who were hurt, she had to accept that nobody else would be helping them, least of all Starclan. She wished she had something left to pray to. So the tabby gathered all of her resolve, and began her teachings.
"...Redkit, Fuzzkit." She called, forcing her voice to stay steady.
"You t-two were interested in self defense, right? Get over h-here and we can start the lesson. How old're you guys?" She needed to gauge what would be appropriate for them to learn. Even if Cinderpaw gave them all the warnings in the world, what could kitten claws do against an attacker at a pawful of moons old?
[ @
dizzy @
moonlit.x ]