Everything seemed to have just gone to Hell when he left.
Centuryverse was alone, staring at his paws like they had done something wrong to him. They had, really. They had followed Percival's will and made him destroy everything he ever loved. Cinnamontwist was gone, British was dead. Percival had even costed him his rank, and eventually, his sanity as well.
Damn him.
The marbled male let out a breath of air he had not known he had been holding. Damn everything. Everything he looked at made him seethe. Thunderclan was so f_cking dead, he could hardly remember when it had life and variety, good warriors around every corner, ones that knew how to fight ruthlessly and come back to be true figures of safety and kindness back at home. Apprentices that didn't get pregnant or impregnate someone every five seconds. Kits that didn't have to grow up fast in order to survive. Elders who were treated with honor.
It was despicable.
Centuryverse pawed the Earth absentmindedly, looking around. Well, nothing to do. The ex viceleader shrugged to himself, getting ready to walk before his whole body froze and his pupils grew larger as he felt an old spark of excitement run through him.
He knew that scent.