[justpeachie!]

✧–lambpaw;

he/him → a small, pale, curly-furred tom.

So. This was their… new home.

Lambpaw hadn't come to accept it just yet as he curled up in his nest. The fact that he had lost his old home less than half a year into his life was awful. Heart-wrenching, even, but surely it would make him stronger, and that's what mattered, right? Would Foxflurry tell him to be sure? Lambpaw wasn't sure. He'd only been an apprentice for a week or two. He didn't know his mentor all that well yet, but–forcing a smile one his face–he'd make sure to get to know them.

After thoroughly "reflecting" and determining that he'd spent enough time sulking in his nest, Lambpaw pushed himself up with a content groan, stretching out his limbs and smacking his lips. He blinked the dreariness out of icy-blue eyes, the blurriness beginning to ebb away from the corners of his vision. Sunlight filtered into the cracks between the brambles and brackens and leaves that made the apprentices den, though it was not unwelcome. Too much darkness would only make him paranoid, Lambpaw thought.

Sitting his rump right back down on his mossen nest, the boy begun to swipe his thorny tongue over his ivory pelt, getting himself cleaned up for the day. If he was going to be an amazing warrior, he had to first win the battle that was unknotting the matted fur that had somehow so violently criss-crossed in his slumber that one attempted was not enough to get rid of the mess. Ah, damn this mercilessly difficult-to-deal-with curly hair!!

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