Frostclan: Stay Out of the Shadows -OFFICIAL-

(Lol, idk what to post. xd )

"IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH!" Swiftpaw shouted back, and took off into the woods. Away from Boulderclan, away from Frostclan... She was going to Flameclan.

( Meanwhile in Frostclan:)

Silverheart glanced at the fresh kill pile, it was getting a bit low. He also felt the need to stretch his muscles. Silverheart sat up from where he had been taking a nap, and after giving himself a few swift licks padded out of the warrior's den. The sun was high as Silverheart padded towards the pile and yowled loudly, "Anyone care for a hunt?

Thornheart was brooding in front of the warrior's den. He had wnated to go on the expedition to Boulderclan, but had not been allowed to because Garth's cats had seen him in the alley's. He understood this, of course, but he still had wnated to go. He scowled lightly as he pushed his muzzle into his belly and curled up for a nap. Although he had a feeling he would get no sleep. Sleep hadn't been coming to him easily these days.

(( Guess who recovered from their writer's block? ))
(( EDIT: Why are all my cats suffixes Heart? ))

(YAY, NO WRITER'S BLOCK!,
IDK why
Swiftpaw, don't go join Flameclan! That was Sparrowpaw's back-up plan if you didn't love him!)

Sparrowpaw ran through the forest swiftly, a seething cauldren of pure rage. He saw a mouse. Leaping nimbly, he landed on the moused and ripped it apart with his sharp claws. He licked the blood that was splattered on his paws, and kept running. He ran until he came across a tall tree, and he climbed up it. Trees calmed his nerves.

(Don't worry, he's not a jumper XD)

Snowfall merely sat and worried for her sister. When she heard Silverheart, she decided it would take her mind off Mossmask. Snowfall stood up and padded over to him/her. "I'll go," she meowed.

(You gave writer's block to me instead. XD)

(( lol. It's contagious! xD ))

Silverheart nodded at her, and waited a moment to see if anyone else wnated to join them on the hunting patrol.

After sitting and fuming for a few more minutes, Sparrowpaw climbed down the tree's rough trunk and landed with a thud on the ground. He retraced his steps to the place where hehad argued with Swiftpaw, and picked up her scent trail.

When no offers were forthcoming, Silverheart smiled at Snowfall and swished his tail "let's hunt." he said simply before leading the way out of the camp.

"Okay," Snowfall meowed. She glanced over her shoulder and followed the tom out of camp.

"About time he left... maybe once I'm in Flameclan I'll be rid of that piece of fox dung for good." She grumbled to herself.

Silverheart set a brisk pace out of camp. About halfway between the border and camp, Silverheart slowed. He slowed until he stood still, his ears pricked and nose held high to sniff scents far and wide.

(He's so lovesick~
Can't go a day without her~)

Sparrowpaw followed Swiftpaw's scent tediously, but he wasn't the best at it. It wound around and through trees, and headed straight for Flameclan. "Oh, joy," Sparrowpaw muttered to himself, and padded towards the border.

Swiftpaw's head snapped up as she heard something moving behind her. "Sparrowpaw, I told you not to follow me!" She shouted, spinning around.

"I can't NOT follow you! Don't you get it?" Sparrowpaw retorted calmy, and appeared from the bushes. He sat down and curled his tail around his body.

(( Just going to say, I think it it spring in the RP. So that would me mating season, their hormones would be raging if you guys want to get into that much realism. ))

(Lol so true!) Soulpaw was sitting camp, lazily flicking a small ball ball of moss between her large white paws, their thick grayish blue toes twitching boredly. As she flipped the long blue and white tuft of fur from her eyes, she sighed, staring out into the forest in direction of Boulderclan's camp. Her milky pale pink eyes then caught sight of a flutter of feathers, one landing on her nose with such grace.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune- without words at all,
That never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
She wiped the thought of hope clear from her mind, remembering all the clans that fell before her eyes....including the one of her own birthing.

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