Move your tails, young'uns!

[Lem]

Brightfang paced stiffly past the fresh-kill pile, her tail flicking violently. It wasn't particularly empty, as greenleaf had been good, and there weren't that many mouths to feed in the first place anymore. But that didn't make up for her boredom. After returning to her warrior duties during the leafbare, Brightfang could hardly fathom how she had withstood retirement at all. Not doing things, sitting around, it was so boring. It was terrible! Feeling useless and old. Bah! She may be older than most other cats in the Clan, true. Also true that most cats her age would have retired ages ago. But Brightfang wasn't most cats. She'd survived the toughest leafbare the Clans had seen, even while many younger cats hadn't been able to make it, and she had survived all the leafbares before that. Well, actually, her surviving the cold while so many had passed wasn't really something she liked to think about. Because so many of the cats who hadn't been able to make it had been her own children, her own grandchildren, her own nieces and nephews. All of them, in fact. All of her children. A life of building her family, and a single leafbare had wiped it out. She was too old to start again now, there would be none left of her family when she was gone. No, Brightfang didn't like to think about that.
But since then, retiring again seemed completely out of the picture. She wasn't leaving behind any cats to pick up where her slack had left off if she retired again. And busying herself with warrior duties was an incredibly effective way of keeping her mind off her family. So that was what she was doing today. Looking up from the fresh-kill pile, she swept her gaze around camp.
"Hey! Who's just sitting around here while the prey runs around outside without us? You young cats need to learn to move your tails." She lashed her own tail behind her. Brightfang wasn't speaking to anyone in particular, just putting out a general call. "Now who's going to actually be useful and come out on a hunting patrol with me?" Normally the deputy would organize most hunting patrols, but Brightfang didn't worry about that. She was a senior warrior, she could organize a hunting patrol of her own if she wanted to.

>>((Sorry this is a kinda really crappy post but I wanted to get SOMETHING going in SandClan ahaha.))

[BeardedLady]

A D D E R P A W
long live the reckless and the brave

Adderpaw wasn't exactly the most confident, outspoken cat. Oh, for sure, she liked to fake it, but put her in a one-on-one conversation with someone, and her heart beats so fast a deaf badger could hear it. Or even worse, a group situation. She'd probably turn tail on the spot.

Yet the striped she-cat would give anything for there to be enough cats to make her nervous. SandClan had been hit hard in the harsh leaf-bare, and the recovery had been slow. Many good cats had found their way to StarClan. 

Greenleaf had well and truly come now, and the hot sun beat unrelentingly down on the idle camp. Usually, by this time of the year, there would be young kits born, and the clan would be like a hive of agitated bees. The only movement in the camp was of slow pacing and flicking tails to keep the flies at bay. And such you would find Adderpaw, sprawled in the saddly empty apprentice den, ears flicking in annoyance. 

The young apprentice was so bored, that she would rather pull out her claws then lounge around for another second. Except there was nothing really to do. She didn't have a specific mentor, and most of the clan didn't have time for an irritating little kit like her. So when she heard Brightfang's harsh voice call out across the camp, her head shot up. For a moment she waited, stone still, for a reply, but none came immediately. Before someone else could take the opportunity, Adderpaw scrambled out of her nest, her flailing paws kicking up sand. 

Brightfang intimidated Adderpaw. She was a well-respected senior warrior, with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. But Adderpaw realized she would have to get over it in order to do something productive. A little out of breath, she halted before the blue-eyed warrior, and dipped her head in a respectful greeting.
H-Hello Brightfang. Could I join your p-patrol? she asked, trying to keep her voice even, and to fight the rising tide of panic.


{{OOC NOTE: Sorry for rushed post, I just needed to get back into my RPing boots}}