[Willowfern]

Stingpaw
He/Him - 6 Moons, ThunderClan
Silver Tongue [Tier One]

Sting suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. The effort was nigh-Herculean. Not that he knew what that meant, being a cat.

“Yeah, ‘cos there’s always such a rush,” Sting scoffed, but he padded after Risingstorm anyway, following him out of camp and into the sun-dappled forest.

Sting liked the forest, to be honest. It was nice. And quiet. Well, save for birdsong and the sound of other prey, but that was part of the appeal.

When Risingstorm broke the silence again, telling him they were doing battle training today, Sting visibly brightened, his tail shooting up like a flag, curling at the tip like a question mark.

“Battle training? We’re doing battle training t’day?” He asked, all cool aloofness abandoned at the thought of it. Oh boy, battle training! That he could get behind. He was starting to like Risingstorm, even if he got up far too early for Sting’s tastes, “Oh, no, no, I’m not too tired! I’m ready ta train!” Sting said hastily, “Bright eyed and bushy tailed! Let’s go!”

[ @Spider ]