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Weak sunlight filtered reluctantly through the blackened branches of the dead and gnarled tree that marked the edge of WhisperClan’s border with StormClan. It stood out among the grassy plains of this territory; especially now since the grasses where beginning to brown with leaf-bare fast approaching. The tomcat lay low to the ground, strategically having placed himself in a random patch of sun while using the thick, twisted root that extended from the trunk to block most of the chilling wind. A lone hawk cawed in the sky, searching for prey that was hard to find as the weather turned cold. Soon enough, every living thing would feel the hunger that characterized the toughest season.

A sigh escaped from the silver muzzle of the tom, his eyes closed, stretched out enjoying the small amount of warmth that his fur was absorbing. He wasn’t a fan of the hot season, preferring the cold air. The other felines in his Clan clustered in the camp with each other as much as was possible to stay warm – but not him. The cold provided the perfect excuse for him to keep moving and escape the confines of the warrior den. The gossip that spread throughout camp was not something he liked to partake in, much less listen to. He loved the solidarity of prowling around safely within the boundary of WhisperClan, allowed to be lost in his own thoughts. Of course, though, he longed for the companionship of another. He secretly wished to find another cat that would accept him for his quietness, one quick to understand like his sister had been before her untimely death just days short of becoming an apprentice.

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// ooc: open to anyone c: