[Teza]

Originally Posted by Lonestar23

@Liquoris

The quiet chatter of the clearing was never directed at him. Lynxfrost couldn't help but wonder if he was even meant to be here, especially at this point in time...watching other cats talking, laughing, sometimes even crying together made him think that he was left out. He wasn't really the greatest of cats. Oh sure, he was a good warrior. He loved his Clan, and protected it to the best of his ability. And oh sure, he was fairly good at hunting. Better then some and worse then others, but wasn't that the way that things always went in the world?
He supposed so. After all...not everyone could be equal. Not everyone could be the best. So therefore, there had to be the good and then the bad. And unfortunately, it seemed to Lynxfrost that he fit more in the category of the bad then the good. At least he wasn't downright evil, that was always a bonus...but he wasn't the type of tom that he would have loved to be. Always kind, always there...always caring about his friends and family...and although sure, he did give them the occasional thought, they weren't constantly on his mind.
He was often worrying about them, when he did remember to think about them. It made him nervous that they might someday be killed in battle. He didn't really want to think about it, but what else could he do but worry? Truth be told, that was one of Lynxfrost's strongest points, despite it being one he didn't use very often. And that being one of his strongest points, the tom used it a good deal more then he should have. He should have been thinking about anything but his friends and family, and yet sometimes that was all he thought about. He should have been thinking about his Clan-- but found himself worrying instead. Worry-- yes, that was what was bothering Lynxfrost. He was worrying way, way too much these days.

(So sorry for the late reply here and for Almondpelt, also I'm sorry this is short.. :/)

Cedarbreeze padded into the clearing, a plump vole in her jaws. As she set the vole down on the fresh-kill pile, the tabby stole a glance around the camp, looking for anyone to speak with. At last she found Lynxfrost looking lonely, if that was the word to use. She shrugged and padded over to him. "Hey, Lynxfrost, how have you been?" she asked, wondering if he remembered the last time she'd seen him. That hunting patrol was brutal, but he had made it better for her. Maybe she could cheer him up. "You look a bit upset. Would you like to talk about it?"