The blood house smelled foul, of crimson bodily fluids and crowfood. The air was dusty, dry, and stale, and the floorboards, once polished and glistening, were scratched and splintered. The walls were faded, the windows were cracked, corners lines with silky cobwebs, and the shadows were suffocating and hungry. It would take some time to get used to this, Tigersparks realized, even though his former self had made his home here just fine. Uttering a sigh, Tigersparks took a seat within what once had been the living room, and let his one golden eye lift from his rounded paws to survey the other inhabitants of the interior. Some of them watched the former ShadowClanner with a daring gaze. The large tabby tom wondered if any of the other BloodClanners would try to cause him trouble.
code by xredxpepperx -- art by stiner