Originally Posted by RedHead (Post 583028) Blazepaw was ravenous. A growing young tomcat like him needed a stable diet, but with his growing moons being during leaf-bare, that had made it a little hard for him to sustain his growing appetite. I’m the past moon, the auburn tomcat had reached that age when apprentices started looking more like warriors. His pelt was becoming sleek and glossy, no longer poofy because of extensive kit fluff. Muscles were starting to show through the thick fur, becoming defined by vigorous training. And his eyes had only grown a brighter olive green color. But Blazepaw, much as he’d matured physically, was still a young cat at heart. He was still wild and playful, still often getting into trouble as fast as he wriggled his way out of it. No amount of growing would probably make him stop his troublemaking tendencies. As he plucked a rather juicy (but more stale) looking mouse from the fresh-kill pile, he cast his green eyes around for someone to converse with while he ate. Blazepaw didn’t like to be alone. His family had all disappeared when he was young, leaving him devastated and alone. That was also why he was such a troublemaker. He’d needed something to do, constantly, to keep his mind off of his family's disappearance. And it had just stuck with him through the moons. He was also a bit physically starved, and this caused him to become someone who communicated through touch often, to comfort them or simply when he was talking to others. His eyes lit up when he spotted Redpaw, who he was pretty sure was a friend. She seemed to be grooming herself, and he tilted his head a little in questioning as he walked over, realizing how dirty her pelt seemed. He knew that she was also going through difficult times, and from what he’d gathered from some of the other apprentices in the den, he knew that she’d lost her family as well. But she hadn’t dealt with it as well as he had. Well, more like, she’d dealt with it differently. Blazepaw believed he’d dealt with the loss of his family pretty well, but between having an apathetic mentor and not many friends, he was only pushing the pain away, and not talking about it at all. Which simply caused him to have pent up emotions and frustrations. He wasn’t one for big talks about feelings. “Look at you, being responsible and cleaning your pelt.” He meowed as he plopped down next to her, not too close. Blazepaw often accidentally sat or stood to close to others sometimes, because he was always comforted by being in a close physical proximity of another cat. But he’d learned the hard way that other cats often don’t like their personal space invaded. “I for one, could take some tips from you.” He meowed as he watched her turn her shoddy pelt into a glossy coat of red. He then looked at his own pelt, sleek orange fur, but it stuck out every which way, curling at some ends, or just sticking out randomly at others. He never seemed to be able to get his pelt to lay flat, even now. It made him look like a small burning wildfire. He then took a large bite of his mouse, relishing in the musky taste. “For not-so-fresh-kill, this mouse is actually pretty good.” He swallowed, his stomach rumbling a little. “Or maybe I’m just really hungry.” He laughed, smiling at the she-cat beside him.

Starclan, Redpaw forgot how much she hated grooming her pelt. It was so easy as a kit when her mother used to do it, but now when she was left to tend to it on her own, it made her aggravated. The she cat did manage to always whisk herself away into some less than ideal places that did not live up to clean conditions, so she often would come back with her fur matted, dirty, all types of wild, but this time she didn't hide herself anywhere. When she specifically got to a tough area, she nosed through her pelt wondering what could be sticking to her flank. Is...is that a sticky burr? Redpaw was certainly confused on how a sticky burr got into her pelt. She didn't remember rolling around in such..places, right? Redpaw didn't have the greatest memory as of lately since she often found herself doing things idly without a sense of direction. Nonetheless, the she cat yanked the annoying piece of burr out, but the consequences that pain followed along immediately right after, and just in time when it seemed that she gathered the attention of new company. ''Meo--owww!'' She hissed when it came out. Redpaw was pretty sure that was going to leave a bruise. However, when a familiar...face? Redpaw quickly scanned the tom from head to toe. She seen him around, and even though they were probably friends, Redpaw never made much of an effort to talk to him. She remembered him. He was quite the troublemaker. She decided to play it cool after her initial burst of pain. The molly offered a small smile, ''Well, you know, gotta stay looking presentable,'' Her voice was softer than her hiss from earlier. ''A molly never knows what toms' eyes she might catch.'' She tacked on in a joke, rolling her eyes at how ridiculous that sounded.

Redpaw wondered for the slightest moment why the tom came over to sit next to her. Let alone speak to her. Part of Redpaw wasn't really in a mood to socialize, but she was too nice to decline his company. The she cat didn't think he was bad company to have around, in fact he could be quite fun, but maybe he was a little too wild and childish for her. ''Here's tip number one; don't go in places that you know will dirty up your pelt.'' She scoffed, it was a tip she could offer him, but never take heed to it herself. She continued to groom her pelt as best and delicately as she could. Once all that dirt and...whatever else mysteries were hidden on her pelt, she did like the end result of how it turned out. It was a dark red, could be described as a russet or crimson color, the sheen that emitted from it might as well make it appear like it was glossy. It contrasted differently from Blazepaw's pelt since his was obviously like more of a orange-red. Albeit, the color orange that glowed when fire was sparked. She haven't gotten a good look at the tom until he started to speak about his prey. Her irises looked at him from the corner of her eyes without turning her head. She took note of his coming-to-age-glow-up-period. His fur, the muscles, the features that made him look like a grown tom that was ready to be a warrior...she could admire that he was actually a very handsome tom -- Redpaw was envious. Here he was growing into some grecian-greek tom, and she was still virtually looking like a kit. She inherited her mother's graceful figure, that much hated feathery tail (in her opinion), and those kittish facial features of hers, and her eyes were a deep dark green, dare to say the color of jade. If mollies were to grow into their more feminine facial features, how come hers haven't happened yet? Yet, here Redpaw was thinking Blazepaw inherited his physical features from genetics instead of knowing that training toughened a cat up and morphed them in different ways. Especially for toms. Quite frankly, Redpaw believed hardcore training made a young tom more physically appealing, which was probably why she was staring at him longer than she should had. She mentally scolded herself and gagged for even having such ridiculous thoughts. She could think the tom was attractive, but that didn't mean she had a crush on him.

''You're eating a not-so-fresh-kill mouse? Yeah, I would believe any cat to be that hungry when they have to resort to thinking rotten mouse tastes like a fresh killed bird.'' She muttered beside him. Redpaw wasn't even hungry, even looking at the piece of prey almost made her want to vomit, which was ridiculous since she haven't eaten anything, so what was she supposed to vomit up? Blood? ''And, judging by that incredible storm your stomach is brewing up, I suppose you are ready to eat an entire live cow!'' She laughed, very softly after hearing his stomach rumble. The sound wasn't very subtle at all, making her ears flicker when she heard the noise coming from him. ''You must've been very busy today that you haven't had time to eat something? Or, is it just a natural phenomenon everyday that you have to scoff down more than a few not-so-fresh-kills because you just love to eat?'' Redpaw finished up her grooming, only slightly. She decided to lay down beside the tom, not too close, but close enough to feel the sideways slicks of fur from his pelt against her shoulder. She started working on grooming her paws.