Post by katteyla on Nov 22, 2011 21:04:50 GMT -5
Nettlefang
Sunlight streamed into the tabby tom's den, disturbing his sleep. With a grunt, he opened his eyes and blinked weariness from within them. The sun was already high in the sky, meaning the sunhigh patrol must have already left. What a shame I won't be joining, the dark brown warrior thought sarcastically. Nettlefang despised patrols, and he guessed that the participating cats couldn't be bothered to wake him up. It wasn't as if he minded, though. He had already been planning an excuse to stay in the warriors' den.
Now, however, slumber refused to return to him. The massive warrior rose with a large yawn, ignoring the mess that the night's sleep had caused in his fur. Glancing around with amber eyes, he noted that no cat remained in the den. With lumbering steps, he exited the den and entered the camp clearing.
A few cats were sharing tongues, while some kits tumbled about. However, Nettlefang had no interest in them. He continued to the entrance of the camp with a scowl on his face, ignoring the curious gazes that followed him. They must think I'm an idiot, the warrior thought with disgust. As if he couldn't hear they names they called him when he turned his back, but Nettlefang no longer cared. His respect for his clanmates had been slowly diminishing, almost reaching the bottom low. He was a senior warrior, perhaps the oldest, yet all of ShadowClan seemed to think of him as a rebellious apprentice. And they wondered why he despised most of them.
Lost in his thoughts, Nettlefang hadn't noticed the looming pine trees that passed in his periphal vision. During the journey, he had been staring only at the earth beneath him: cold and unwelcoming. Before he realized how much time had passed, the tang of the Thunderpath overwhelmed his senses. With a disgruntled snort, he changed his path. After a few moment, the scent of a mouse arrived, more pleasing than the last stench. He lowered his body, stalking slowly forward, before he launched with his powerful hind legs. His claws landed on the small prey, making a clean meal. With ravenous bites, he tore greedily into the meal, without even a sentence of gratitude to StarClan. The cats hadn't done much for him, so they shouldn't even expect anything in return, as far as he was concerned. Nettlefang continued the small meal without much thought, his senses too distracted to notice anything else in the eerily still forest.