[whatzername]

Graysquirrel || @marni

The gray tom wasn't getting younger. He'd been away from ThunderClan for a multitude of moons since the whole thing with Nectarflame kicking everyone out went down. He had to be at least in his mid-forties. His kids . . . They must have become warriors. Oh, how he missed them. As he smelled the familiar border he'd cowardly stared at too many times in fear to return without his pride, he wavered before finally stepping over it and weaving through some trees before warily sitting down to wait for someone. He didn't want to seem hostile, that was the last thing he wanted. He reeked of rogue and was aware of it, it sickened him how afraid he'd been to return. Now he'd missed too much with his family. They might not want him there anymore. And what if Nectarflame or someone like her was in charge? Would he be able to stay? He wondered about a billion different horrid scenarios before snapping himself out of it and staring into the brush around him to try and spot anycat around. "Please hurry . . ." he muttered without thinking.