Everything had become routine. Well, not everything...there were always those talks with Heathertail, or an unexpected conversation with a clanmate, but mostly...things were pretty routine. Why wouldn't they be? He was a Deputy, things were supposed to be routine and organized all the time. That was the way Shrikecall liked it. But unfortunately, it seemed he had developed closer bonds with a few members of the Clan then he would have liked to...and tended to stay away from others, which he also didn't like. He should be treating everyone equally, with respect, but it hadn't worked quite the way he had thought. Of course there were always going to be cats that Shrikecall would disagree with, or who didn't appreciate his ideas. He could still get along with them. Couldn't he? Shrikecall stretched out, unsheathing his claws to stretch them.
A long time ago, he might have been doing this right before attacking, but now? Thanks to SkyClan, there was peace. He had no reason to attack anyone. Not unless a loner, or stranger, like those three cats who had arrived earlier did so. Those three cats. Where were they? Was Blazingstar allowing them to come into the Clan? Oh, he hoped not. There was something strange about them. But, Shrikecall had learned to deal with things he couldn't control. This wasn't his decision-- someday, perhaps, if he were to live that long, but not until then.
Which bothered him. He would have liked to be in control of this, and yet he wasn't. So he would have to accept it for what it was...at least, for the moment being...and pray to StarClan that whatever was decided, it wouldn't mess up. He wanted things to go smoothly so, so badly. And he could only hope that was what would happen. Shrikecall got to his paws for a brief moment, and then-- tired-- settled back down. What had happened to his stamina? He felt like it had gone down so much over the previous twenty moons or so.