[nyme]

HE'S GOT A TEMPERATURE OF NEGATIVE DEGREES AGAIN

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✪ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

PEACHPAW . 7 MOONS . HE/HIM . THUNDERCLAN

Peachpaw creeps in with the flood of other Thunderclanners, walking carefully over the cold sand. He...wishes he'd stayed back at camp. It's cold this evening, and the breeze rolling off the surface of the water isn't helping in the least. Snowpaw would have called this sort of thing an adventure, but the tom can't find it in himself to match her imagined enthusiasm. If anything, it only makes him feel worse.

As if Peachpaw ever needs any help to be in a grim mood.

With a delicate sniff and a sour expression, the nub-tailed apprentice finds himself a place to settle in. It looks like it's still only them and Windclan, who...well, honestly, who cares about those guys? Peachpaw certainly doesn't. He skates a deep blue stare over the faces of a few strangers before turning it down to his orange paws, pelt fluffed against the chill. Maybe it'll warm up around here once more cats arrive, and then maybe he'll find himself in a more social mood. Time will tell.

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