Burning Shadows [C]

With ears pinned flat against his head and every fur on his body standing up straight, Webshadow loomed in front of Burningpaw for a long while, silent and suddenly seething. He had been angry before, sure, but never so hot with rage that he could feel bile rising in his throat, that he felt hot and blind with fury. Attributing the heat and his clouded vision to the blood covering him almost made this easier– almost.

Sighing and dropping his head, he noticed he'd unconsciously unsheathed his claws, scoring deep marks into the earth. Without bothering to sheath them again, he pushed past the apprentice, stalking back towards camp. "Whatever. We're going home." If Burningpaw tried to argue, then oh well: he could stay behind and get eaten by another raccoon, or fall in the marsh and never return. A twinge of guilt struck Webshadow's heart for thinking that way, and he quickly reminded himself Burningpaw was a Clanmate just the same, and he had been a bitter, grumpy apprentice, too. But... glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was being followed, he couldn't help but feel something cold and heavy settle in his gut. He wasn't afraid, really– or, at least, he refused to be afraid of an apprentice –but still. There was something... off about him. He'd been the first cat to push Webshadow to true anger, a feat made even greater by the fact they'd be good friends.

It wasn't worth dwelling on. Webshadow dropped his head even lower and fixed his attention on the marshes ahead, forcing his stiff muscles to a trotting speed to get him home quicker.