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[h2][color=f7941d]Stormstrike[/color] & [color=f9ad81]Mossfur.[/color][/h2]

The medicine cat was as much as a thorn in his fur as the actual thorns that tended to get tangled in his fur, Mallownose never seemed to know when to slow down. The exuberant tom was constantly making a joke of his somewhat thorn-hindered existence, he wasn't even sure how he was always managing to pick them up but if there was a thorn then he would find it. It made him especially grumpy when the apprentices gave him nests that happened to harbor them and that was today's challenge. He would have to scold whoever had been responsible for the most recent moss gathering, mistakes irked him more than anything. If he had a say then there would be no room for mistakes.

Though the biggest mistake of all was the fact that Mossfur had gotten an apprentice before him, something about that crawled under his fur like an ant. Hadn't he constantly proved himself to be a competent and devoted warrior? Didn't they want him to lead some day? He was brave and he was intelligent, he knew where all the best hunting places were and he had protected their borders with tooth and claw. He deserved an apprentice far more than his sniveling brother, the same brother who spent his time bounding through the forest at top speed when he got excited and the same brother who got nervous about fighting and backed off when he was challenged. Mossfur was a weak link, he was pathetic and he wouldn't be any good with an apprentice.

Flareheart mumbled a good morning to him through a mouthful of prey and he couldn't help but acknowledge it with a flick of his tail. Flareheart was a good warrior, even though her roots were those of a softened kittypet. That was something to be overlooked though, she had a strength about her and she was a brilliant hunter. He couldn't disregard her strength for her soft start in life but he did often feel that the clan should avoid accepting so many outsiders. It could weaken them and he wasn't a fan of looking weak, he hoped they shaped up and became less accepting to the rogues and kittypets. No matter the strength they could offer to such cats, Thunderclan needed Thunderclan's blood. Only Thunderclan was built to be the way they were and no cat could just earn it. It made his pelt prickle and he spotted his silver and white brother emerging from the Warriors den.

"[color=f7941d]Mossfur,[/color]" he greeted, his yellow eyes glinting severely. "[color=f7941d]We should hunt sometime.[/color]"

"[color=f9ad81]Y-yeah that sounds great, Stormstrike! I'm busy now though-mentor things to do![/color]" he smiled nervously but Stormstrike could see his fur bristling with discontent. He watched the tom turn tail and head towards the freshkill pile where his apprentice seemed to be waiting, it was all the same to him, if his brother wanted to disregard the tension beneath his pelt then that was his own trouble.

Mossfur shook his fur out nervously, he could feel eyes burning in the back of his neck as he headed towards his apprentice. His tail was twitching but he took in a few breaths to calm himself. "[color=f9ad81]Runningpaw? I was thinking we could get started early this morning. After you eat, of course.[/color]"
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