A Lifetime of Yesterdays [OPEN]

Cloudmane watched from the opening of the elder's den the comings and goings of the other warriors. He watched as Bloodstrike organized patrols and noticed how much he never looked at the elder's den. A sad sigh escaped from Cloudmane before his dull blue eyes looked over at Smokefeather. Poor thing. To have to be retired here when she was still so young. Cloudmane himself was fairly ancient. He knew his time was probably around the corner, with his joints constantly aching to the point he could scarcely move on some days. He at least had lived his life to a full extent. He had just as many if not more scars than Bloodstrike, though his were hidden behind thick fur and thank the stars none had managed to get on his face. He'd been wanting to speak with Smokefeather for quite some time... but what in the world could he possibly say to her? Her situation was most unfortunate.

An apprentice brought a squirrel to him and he squinted at it. It was a young squirrel... good. He preferred the younger ones, their meat was far more tender. He took it from the apprentice without even one inkling of a thank you. As far as he was concerned, he didn't need to say that to anyone again. He'd given much for Skyclan, and he was owed. The apprentice bounded off and Cloudmane placed a single paw over it. He'd eat it in a moment... for now, he was going to let his mind wander. The old tom often daydreamed, as actual dreaming for him had ended long ago. Before his mind could wander too much, Bloodstrike began barking orders at someone else, someone Cloudmane couldn't quite see from where he was.

"Hey, Gingersmack!" Cloudmane called out to the deputy, which caught the larger tom's attention, though he was clearly confused. "Send the warriors out and be on your way! Some of us will be napping soon!" He yelled, causing Bloodstrike to shoot him a glare. The old tom met his gaze, but the instant the deputy turned away to go back to ignoring the old tom, Cloudmane turned away and snickered. These old coots in the den could sleep through anything, but flustering the young ones from time to time gave him joy. Being stuck in the elder's den, there was little entertainment or things to be joyful about, so he was hardly apologetic when it came to annoying the others. He'd earned it. One day, if Bloodstrike lived that long, he'd be able to do it too.