in the deep woodland…
Darkpelt is born in the deep woodland. He doesn't remember his mother much. He liked to think she looked just like him, with black fur, glowing yellow eyes, and long, heavy whiskers drooped down to the forest floor.
The tomcat pounced to catch the mouse in front of him. He picked it up and walked back to his clan, wincing at the painful gate in his walk.
He'd joined Thunderclan recently, in the wake of an attack he'd suffered by a feral cat near the twolegplace. Still, even though the medicine cats had helped him to heal, he sustained a limp.
Darkpelt sighs, dropping the mouse to the fresh kill pile. When he looks up, the sun sets over the camp field, a sharp end to such a tiring day.
Every day is a tiring day.
(feel free to reply!)
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