Snowpaw was sitting on a small rock in the clearing, narrrowing his eyes at a tabby below him. His fur moved with the wind, the breeze pleasantly flowing through his pelt. He snapped his head to his right as he heard the clan leader carefully place his prey on the pile and gracefully leap up onto the streamstone. "Why mess up your fur just before a clan meeting?" he asked Dirtfur. As if on queue, Lionstar yowled the words that would summon warriors and apprentices out of their dens and into the clearing. I hope he’s choosing our new mentors. A growl escaped his throat. He better choose the right cat, I can’t deal with another mentor who won’t look at me. He flicked his tail and leapt down, sitting besides the tom whilst gazing up curiously at the leader.