Quote:
Originally Posted by BILL.
Firehawk lingered near the outskirts of the fray, eyeing the clashing cats with hesitance. While he wasn't as vocal about his dislike for the conflict as some of his Clan-mates had been, the last thing he wanted was another outbreak of war. None of this was reassuring.
But he was a RiverClan warrior, and their home had been wrongfully taken from them. Firehawk wasn't going to sit back and let the other Clans walk all over his. He dropped into a defensive crouch, preparing himself for any potential combatant to come his way.
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Quailears slid across the ground, eyes darting to and fro. He darted between cats, the older munchkin tom’s claws unsheathed. He spotted Firehawk and grinned his tail lashing. “Hello Pond-Scum.” He growled softly, loud enough for the other cat to hear before dashing at the crouching cat, going to bowl his feet out from under him. He knew he would have the disadvantage if he were to come off the ground because of his short legs but of the ground stayed under his paws he was have full advantage.