The Storm Died Out (Open)

Nectarleap hardly registered that he was now in camp. He didn't feel like talking to anyone. That would mean having to explain everything that just happened, and that would be too painful. All he wanted to do at the moment was curl up in his den and sleep. But did a cowardly excuse for a warrior like him even deserve a spot to rest in WindClan camp? His faults had caused Stormcloud's death, and he didn't want the same to happen to anyone else in the clan. The casual observer might notice how depressed he looked, and someone who had paying a bit more attention would also realize that the tom he had gone on a patrol with was no longer with him. Right now, the tricolored warrior couldn't care less about what everybody saw. No reassuring words or paid respects would bring his friend back. Nothing could make up for his fatal, mouse-hearted mistake. What was done was done. The most dejected look on his face, he padded towards the warrior's den, hoping nobody would come and bother him. He would talk when, if he ever was, ready to redress the death of his former apprentice.