The right one for Charredpelt.

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    Charredpelt sat in a corner of the clan camp, eating a white rabbit calmly. Nearby, there was a group of she-cats gawking at him from the warriors den entrance, that he hadn't noticed. They all talked about him, but never seemed to go up and talk to him, and when they did, once he said something back they would run to the rest of their friends and frantically mew excitedly like kits. And they were always the same she-cats in the group, gawking at him wherever they could find him. The only cats he could really have conversation with were always toms. He felt kind of lonely, since the only she-cats that were his friends, or actually had a conversation with were his little sister and her best friend.

    Wisteriathorn padded past the group of gawking she-cats, biting back a snort of disgust. They just stared at him, as if he was a plump pheasant but they were too nervous to try and take a bite. What a load of mouse dung. Her dark tail swished behind her as her pawsteps made only a mere whisper of a sound on the dusty ground. She wondered if she should eat first, or go hunting. Her little brother, Ashkit, bounced around her paws. "I wanna go hunting, I wanna go hunting!" He mewed in a squeaky voice. Purring affectionately, Wisteriathorn gave her brother a nudge. "Go play," She murmured. "You can hunt when you're an apprentice." Ashkit pouted, trudging back to his friends. "It didn't work." She heard him mutter to his friends. Purring softly with laughter, she grabbed a mouse off of the fresh-kill pile.

    "Aww man!" exclaimed a silver tabby apprentice with deep gold eyes among the kits who were friends of Ashkit. "I thought it would work for sure!" she added in a cute, playful pouty voice. The apprentice was usually in the nursery, always playing some game with the kits. She looked almost identical to Charredpelt, after all she was his sister, Nimblepaw.

    Wisteriathorn chuckled. "Nice try Nimblepaw!" She called, smiling. She settled down to eat, rolling her eyes as she heard the whispers and giggles and squeals of 'The Balloons' as Wisteriathorn called them, because she considered them complete airheads. The chocolate tabby she-cat's tail swished behind her, slightly tufted ears flicking.

    The blind tabby made a pouty face at Wisteriathorn. Then she stopped. She heard the giggles of her brothers fans. She stalked towards them and shooed them away with swiping paws and tail. "Shoo! Get outta here you ticks!"


    When she shooed them away, she turned around and stood there until she heard her brother called to her, "Thanks!" Then she walked over and sat next to him, beginning a conversation.

    Finishing eating her mouse, Wisteriathorn gave herself a quick grooming before pondering going hunting. It was a fairly nice to day, but here, it could be storming before you could say 'Mouse dung.' Still considering it, she padded to the nursery to visit her sister and her kits.

    A queen and a tom were arguing about something when Wisteriathorn came in the nursery. The queen was light brown with a deep blue gaze, and expecting kits. The tom was a darker brown with light green eyes. "Hey," the queen called to Wisteriathorn. "Can you get Nimblepaw for me?" she asked.

    "Sure, just a minute." Wisteriathorn said, padding out of the nursery, dust swirling with each step. "Nimblepaw? One of the queens wants to see you in the nursery." The dark brown she-cat said, her dark blue eyes clear.

    "Oh, Duskflare wants me." she explained to her brother, then leaving him alone to finish his rabbit wit no company. As Nimblepaw passed by she mewed a thanks to Wisteriathorn and left inside the nursery to break up the argument between the queen and her brother.


    While Nimblepaw was in the nursery, Charredpelt looked lonely, but seemed as if he didn't mind.

    Wisteriathorn decided to go hunting, but she knew that they would get more prey if there was more than one cat. "Charredpelt would you like to come hunting with me when you finish your fresh-kill?" She asked him.

    "Uh." He looked a bit surprised at the question as he took his last bite of the rabbit. "Sure." he said getting up and walking over to the dark tabby. "Where do you want to hunt?" he asked her. As he spoke, Charredpelt seemed a bit quiet. He didn't look like the type of shy quiet tom he was acting to be.

    Halfway to the river, Charredpelt stopped suddenly. He swiveled his ears to the side of him and hissed to Wisteriathorn, "If we run fast enough we'll lose them. Come on, hurry!" And he bolted the opposite way his ears had swiveled to.

    Slightly puzzled, Wisteriathorn darted after him, long legs eating up ground with ease. This she-cat was built to run, with the long legs, small build, and over all passion for running.

    They stopped when they got to the river. "Sometimes I wonder if those Ticks do anything other than stalk me." Charredpelt panted.

    "I don't think they do. I've never seen them catch a piece of prey in their lives. How'd they even become warriors?" Wisteriathorn said, breathing slightly harder than normal.

    "They became fascinated with me as soon as I became a warrior. And they're all a bit older than me so they got their names first." he explained.