| Sprucepaw |
Needle sharp teeth exposed themselves to the night breeze as Fudge yawned, his mouth wide as he heard the by now familiar voice of ThunderClan's resident ball of ire calling forth for a clan meeting. But... why? Hadn't they just had a meeting? Fudge was so sure he'd just gone to sleep. Casting a dubious glance at the moss figures he curled up against, he noticed the feather and flower still attached to them. Yep, definitely had just gone to sleep. He had to replace the feather's and flower's position every morning due to his dislodging them every night as he slumbered.
Sending a pointed glare at the apprentices' den entrance, the Havana Brown mix debated staying inside his nest. He surely didn't need to go, now did he? He hadn't gone to the battle. That's what Angry had called, right? The cats who'd gone to the battle? But then why was she being so loud?! Honestly, it's like the cats around here were offended by the mere thought of some actual peace and quiet.
Begrudgingly, the chocolate point got up, mentally grumbling as he instantly missed the feel of soft moss against his long, puffed fur. There would be no sleeping while the diminutive leader barked at the clan, anyways. Might as well find out what the hell she wanted. His deadpanned gaze was quick to find the tabby, albeit it struggled to remain impartial and bored. She was... covered in blood. And very much uncaring about it, too. Holding back a shudder, Fudge took a few steps back, closer to the den's entrance. The reek of death emanating from her scared the four moon old more than cared to admit.
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| Open |