Winterheart stood up, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop with that racket!" She growled, her tail lashing. "Can't a warrior get any sleep?" She spat in Riddler's direction. Her icy blue eyes were cold, like always. She wasn't ever happy.
Redkit groaned when he heard Winterheart. What was it now? He crawled out from the tiny den him and his sister shared, blinking sleepily. Morningkit was already gone, he noticed, and he didn't see Hazel anywhere. They were probably hunting, then. Redkit absolutely hated hunting. He wish he could sleep all day long. The Dark Forest was always so cold and dreary. How come it was always night? And why were the trees all slimy? He had no idea, but he almost regretted joining his sister. Starclan looked much nicer.
Dawnmist woke up to the sounds out the creek, which was nearby her den. She didn't sleep with the other Dark Forest cats, since they always stole her prey, and took the best sleeping spots. She yawned, walking out into the small clearing she made. The cheek was nearby, so she always had water. Though, the creek was disgusting and full of small, slimy fish that tasted worse than rotting leaves.
Hazel let out a frustrated hiss as Morning - yet again - missed an easy catch. "Do you want to starve?" she hissed, her claws unsheathing. Morningkit shook her head. "Well, then, next time actually catch the prey!" Hazel, sat down, her cold green eyes watching Morningkit. Even though she was only five moons old, Morningkit should be able to hunt. Her little brother could. But Morningkit could fight, and she was smart. But what use was that if she starved to death? "Remember, if you don't hunt, you don't live. No one will feed you here." Hazel herself was a little thin, and her fur was matted with blood. She had lost a fight against Winterheart over a small vole. It was only a scrap, really, but Hazel had caught it, so it was rightfully hers, not that white foxhearted thief!
Winterheart
Dawnmist
Tatteredcoat
Morningkit
Redkit
Hazel
Tangle
Slash
Newtfang