Quote:
Originally Posted by Shoes
Okay, so, the smile obviously wasn't working to make their mentor less grumpy but they didn't stop smiling, they liked to smile. The more you smiled the happier you felt, at least to Runningpaw. They decided they ought to just do as they were told without complaint to avoid angering the other more, even if they felt a slight pang of hurt by the way they were being glared at by the molly they had thought they were close with. "Can do!" Turning towards the fresh-kill pile, they leapt up towards it. They grabbed a fish by its tail, carrying it back towards their mentor outside the camp with their head turned to the side with the weight of the prey.
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Deranged Llama (for further stalking)
Rainpelt was waiting not more than three fox-lengths from the camp entrance, rhythmically thumping her tail against the icy back. It didn't take long for Runningpaw to emerge with the freshkill. She settled on the ground, sweeping her paw in a gesture inviting the younger cat to join. Her emerald eyes were as icy as the river beside them. Rainpelt had never been a cat to be pleasant for the sake of others, but if she had any reservations about showing her feelings, today they were gone. They had died the moment Juniperpaw had told her that her life of ignoring her body had officially come to an end. This was the world she lived in now! A world where her body wasn't hers to do with as she pleased, and where she couldn't be what she wanted to be! Runningpaw lived in that world too, whether he wanted to accept it or not, and if she was going to face the crushing reality of that, as Starclan as her witness, she wouldn't be the only one. This tom was living in a dreamworld. She would wake him.