@
Charmer
Leafhide lashed his tail back and forth in waiting. It felt like he had been waiting for ages with this agonizing paw injury. Stupid Batface, he thought scornfully. If he had just listened then I wouldn't be in this mess. Leafhide had been hunting with the black tom, chatting idly until Batface suggested they eat the prey before it gets to camp. It was already getting cold out from the coming leaf-bare, so Leafhide refused and demanded they take them back to camp. That had earned him a scratch on the face. Of course, Leafhide retaliated. His attacker didn't come out unscathed. Unfortunately, Batface had gotten ahold of his paw. And now he had a deep hole in his pad. Grumbling Leafhide scanned the clearing for the ginger medicine cat. "Where is that old fleabag?" he muttered under his breath.