Unfortunate Presence [Stumpytoad]

The air was uncomfortably warm and humid, and Brackenwing had found herself with a simmer headache and an abundance of irritation. Not as bad as it had been in the medicine den after the gathering, but it was enough that she unceremoniously dropped her prey onto the fresh-kill pile and stalked toward the edge of camp, the twitch of her dark-tipped tail back and forth and flattened ears betraying her annoyance, though her patrolmates had done nothing to earn the abruptness of her departure. Finding as secluded a spot as she could (which was difficult, given that she was in camp), Brackenwing stretched out, letting her head rest on her paws. Green eyes narrowed as she watched the camp, her ears twitching occasionally with the noise of cats talking and moving about their days.

A small figure, one that was very recognizable, hobbled across the camp, apparently spotting Brackenwing as she slumped down. And he was not happy. whereas most cats were keeping busy, this she-cat was just casually lounging about! So lazy! And to think she called herself a warrior. For shame!

With narrowed eyes, he plopped down beside the molly, stretching out.

"You know, back in my day, warriors actually kept busy. There was always something to do. If we weren't hunting or patrolling, we were caring for our Clanmates, changing bedding, making sure dens were stable for the kits and elders, which by the way, I am pretty sure there is a leak in the elder's den, and my bedding is old. And I have ticks in my neck that are driving me crazy. And ol' Stumpytoad is crazy enough. There ain't no time for no laziness, kit! We would be working in all kinds of weather, you know. I once chased down a hare in the middle of a blizzard, you know. Straight into it's burrow too. Got a bit o' frostbite, but my Clan ate that night."

The tom stuck his nose into the air, clearly proud of this story. Oh how things in his day was so much better. These kits may as well be kittypets these day.

Brackenwing bit back a low growl of annoyance at the approach of a cat. Not just any cat, no, but of course it had to be one of the elders. Stumpytoad, to be precise. He began to talk, and abruptly Brackenwing could feel the pounding in her head increase as the tom rambled.

At least nobody was accusing her of being pregnant this time. And there was no hailstorm... Though she almost would've preferred the vicious chunks of ice to hearing him prattle about what a warrior should be doing.

"You done?" This time she didn't bother to hide the growl, narrowed eyes hardly even moving to face the little elder. "I contributed to the fresh-kill pile and have been on patrol all morning. Have you contributed anything to the clan except give cats headaches, recently?" Brackenwing's striped tail lashed back and forth, ears still remaining flat against her skull.