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[size=20pt]Blackstorm
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ooc; Super sorry about the late reply! I've just been really busy, and haven't had time to reply. I'm really sorry!
It really was a nice day out. Even the usually-grumpy black tom had to agree on that. Large dark paws carried him into camp, his shoulder bumping a cluster of reeds, and sending them rustling. The sun was out, and it was warm, even though it was still so early. Blackstorm hadn't been awake for that long, but long enough that he had already eaten today, just a quick breakfast of a fish that someone had caught overnight. He had been out of camp just now to make dirt, but now he was back. Pausing once inside camp, the dark-furred warrior noticed a bit of fur on his shoulder sticking up, and quickly flattened it with his tongue. As a RiverClan cat, he was proud of his normally sleek fur, and disliked how the hunger of leafbare could sometimes leave it more ragged. But now that newleaf had come along, and brought fish back with it, his fur was back to its usual lustrous shine, laying smooth to his body, though it was long. If he lived in ThunderClan (perish the thought!) and ate a diet of mice and birds, his fur would surly be an unruly bundle of fluff. But with the diet of fish he had as a RiverClan warrior, his fur was sleek and water-repellent. It just goes to show, he thought, how clearly fish is the superior food source! And of course by extension, how RiverClan was the superior Clan. Though now... Looking around the camp, he could see cats who's fur did not lay flat to their sides, but instead puffed up around them. And cats who's fur was ragged, like that of a rogues. That's because they probably are rogues, he thought bitterly, feeling a familiar flash of anger at the number of rogues and kittypets that were now intermingled through the Clan. Disgusting. They clearly don't even eat fish, taking the few bits of woodland prey that they catch and eating that. Why would somecat who hates water and fish even want to live here? He knew that sometimes kits were born drypaws, and refused to swim, but by the time they were apprentices they had usually learned to love water like anyone else, and they always made an effort to enjoy water! These cats... They didn't even seem to care about RiverClan's tradition of loving the river. How can any cat who hates the river, be loyal to RiverClan?
Realizing now that he had just sat around glaring at everyone for several minutes, the dark-furred tom shook his head, and got to his paws. Noticing a gathering of cats being assigned hunting partners for the morning hunt, he twitched his tail, and trotted over. Might as well. The Clan needs to be fed, and hunting with one or two other cats, so long as they're not rogue filth, or whiny kittypets, isn't too bad. Plus, he really should make a bit of an effort to get to know some cats in his Clan. He had lived here his whole life but... Blackstorm still really didn't have friends. As he settled into the crowd of waiting cats, he curled his thick tail around his paws. He listened to the cats being assigned, but inside he still throbbed with anger, after sitting around dwelling on the state of the Clan. Under his tail, his claws slid in and out, as he itched to release his anger on something. His ears pricked as he heard his own named called, next to the name of another warrior. Featherflurry...? He recognized the name, connecting it with the image of a young black-and-white warrior. He didn't know the cat very well, but as much as he could tell, at least the cat was Clanborn... Though he didn't seem to remember being particularly impressed with the younger cat, anytime he had seen him. The black warrior swiveled his head, looking for the patched pelt, and spotting it padding over to him. Eugh, he really is a young one. He looked like he'd barely seen four seasons. Blackstorm, on the other hand, had seen his share of seasons. This past leafbare had been the third one he had seen, with his first leafbare being the first thing he had seen when he opened his eyes as a kit. He estimated then, that he himself was something close to forty moons, but he didn't really bother to keep track anymore. Looking Featherflurry over, he grumbled internally, Let's just hope he was trained by someone sensible, and he knows how to hunt.
As the other cat reached him, Blackstorm was about to say a greeting, when the cat immediately commented on the weather.
"Uh. Yes, the weather is nice." Blackstorm mewed curtly, staring at Featherflurry for a moment. Then, "So, to the southeastern border, then. Hunting though, not border patrol. Not that it would hurt to make sure no one's been setting paw across the border, eh?" His tone was slightly bored, as Blackstorm was wont to sound. Though he wouldn't really mind having to chase some hooligan off the territory... Blackstorms claws were itching for something to do. Probably though, he would have to satisfy himself with simply catching prey. "Are you ready to go right away, or is there anything you have to attend to first?" He mewed to the younger warrior, as he began to get to his paws.
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