Dawnshadow sat in the entrance of her den, looking out at the caln with unsure eyes. If Silverstar in fact WAS back, it was dangerous for both Clans. Had it not been WaterClan who finally killed him? His own Clan. And she knew there was no way that she could talk to the WaterClan medicine cat, there had been no peaceful gatherings since the Great War, and no group thrips to the Shimmering Falls, the sacred meeting place for Medicine cats of the Clan to go and speak with StarClan. She sighed sadly and shook her head.
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Cloudfeather padded into camp, two fat mice dangling in her jaws, she set them down and turned back to her sister, "Hey Dawnshadow! Hurry up! You're lagging behind."
With a snort, Dawnshadow padded into camp, a rabbit hanging from her jaws. She set it down on the Freshkill pile and sat down to groom her fur, "says the she-cat who only has two mice to show for her labor."
Cloudfeather shrugged, "Mice have less fur to spit out when you eat them." she pointed out. Her sister just shrugged and continued to groom her fur. Cloudfeather sat down beside her and yawned, glad to enjoy the sunny day. The sun warmed into her fur and made her feel tingly all over.
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Adderstrike slunk into camp, silently as usual. It was morning, but the sun was bright, and the air moist and warm. He found his favorite shady spot in camp and lay down, thinking himself unnoticed by his clan, thw way he liked it, until he heard a friendly voice, "hey there brother." With a sigh, Adderstrike turned his head.
Feralwind sat down beside Adderstrike in the shade, "Nice morning eh?" he asked, looking at Adderstrike, who shrugged and sat up. Feralwind thought dismally that this was another of their difference. Although he was an averaged sized tom, maybe a little bigger than some, even he seemed small compared to his brother. Adderstrike was definately tall, and his muscled were obvious even through his thick, silber-black fur.
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Tigerfrost padded out of the warriors den, her white and black fur messy and amber eyes lazy-looking. She grabbed a mouse from the freshkill pile and lay down in the warm sunshine, taking a dainty bite. She looked down at the small mouse, and sighed. This tiny thing would fill her up for most of the day, and she had grabbed the smallest one on the pile.
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Windrush had hsi belly low to the ground, ears flat to his skull. He was slowly making his way forward on silent paws. The hunter's crouch. He bunched all of his muscles beneath him, then pounced, landing squarely on top of the vole. Before it could squeak, he killed it with one swift bite to the neck and picked it up. He carried back to hsi hidden prey, and dug up another vole, a mouse, and a sparrow. He grabbed all of them and padded back to camp, making it to the entrance in no time.
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Brushfire yawned lazily in his next. he knew the sun was up, but that didnt matter to him. He wasnt ready to get up yet. He roled onto his side and put one paw over his eye, to hide from the sunlight that filtered through the entrace to the warriors den.
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"Monsters are real. Ghosts are too. They live inside us and sometimes they win." ~Stephen King
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