[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; height: auto; text-align:justify;font-size:11px;]Voletail had joined SylvanClan only a week ago, and yet he already felt at home. HitherClan had never been much of a clan to him. A temporary stay, perhaps, but they had truly not been what he was looking for. He loved the traditional aspects of his previous clan, but they were far from home. All of his close friends in that clan had left soon on, besides perhaps Skyfall, who continued to be one of the last active members. What a shame that the clan had gone to dust.
The forest that this new clan resided in reminded him much of the last one, and even a bit like ThunderClan's territory had been. The pale brown tomcat supposed he just felt at home in forests, the thick leaves shrouding everything down below in a cool shade. Everything was peaceful in SylvanClan, which was something he could not say for most clans. They were, of course, a very young clan, having been formed not long ago, but he loved the peac and serenity of it all. His biggest worries were if there were any dangerous animals lurking in their territory, which in its own was hardly anything.
He had been standing near the lake's edge, collecting moss for any new members. Something told him that this clan was going to grow much faster than HitherClan had, so this was only a smart decision. The air was crisp and fresh, giving Voletail a happier demeanor. This was the first time in a while that he felt at ease with the world. Yes, SylvanClan must have been the final answer. He was going to live the rest of his life and die here.
Stepping away from the body of water with a mouthful of moss dripping down, he began to make his way back towards camp, minding his step as he padded along. The territory was still a bit unfamiliar to him, but it wouldn't take the senior warrior too long to get used to this again. He was able to almost memorize his previous clan's territory, so this would be a breeze.
Out of the corner of Voletail's honey-colored eye, he spotted something. It was a scaly something, kind of like a dried up fish. Flipping it over, he found that it had been a snake's skin that was shed off. Although he was no expert on what snakes were poisonous or not, that was surely not a good sign. From the fifty-two-moon-old's experience, snakes often meant danger, and danger always meant to be careful. I'll tell the others when I get back, he thought, continuing at a significantly quicker pace.
Soon enough, the tomcat leaped through the last trees into the clearing, bringing the moss to the nursery. Exiting, he took a seat off to the side, not knowing if it was important enough to tell Willowstar about. There were snakes just about everywhere, maybe it didn't matter enough to talk to her about it. Huh.