Roosterflame
He/Him
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The sun beat down on the camp as Roosterflame skipped into the clearing from the Warrior’s den. He was very energetic this afternoon (he’d been taking a short power nap), and he was in the mood for a light snack before he went out to the territory for his usual walk.
To Roosterflame’s great surprise, when he arrived at the fresh-kill pile he saw that there was barely enough prey to grease a couple hungry kits’ chins, let alone feed the clan, or supply Roosterflame with a good snack.
“Well, this just won’t do,” He exclaimed, looking around the camp for someone else who could share his outrage, “It’s summer! The clan shouldn’t be this low on food. This needs to be fixed.”
He looked about him once again, his tail straight up like a flag as he tried to scrape together a few of his clanmates to make a hunting patrol.
Although Roosterflame was only about twenty moons old, he could have a commanding presence when he wanted to, and right now, he wanted to.
He marched over to a small group of cats, a half smile on his face,
“Do you want to help me feed the clan?” He asked.
(Looking for three or four other cats to go hunting!)