have you seen the burned man? (c)

wolfpaw

apprentice| shadowclan

Wolfpaw had slunk onto a patrol in place of Hedgepaw. He had caught wind of it, and that Quillsplash would be on it. He neglected to waken his sister, and took her place. He was tired, on the go for hours, but this was one last thing he had to do. His gaze was fixed on the shape of the tom in front of him, and his maw ached to be sank somewhere into his flesh, his claws itching to cut deep and true and then Hedgepaw would no longer be in danger of him and maybe, just maybe, Silverhawk could teach her too. Not Quillsplash. Quillsplash wanted to hurt her, he knew he did.

The mud and murk was deep and thick, and at times he struggled to pull his paws free. It reminded him of something his brother had done, and he wondered how hard it would be to draw his attention and fling some at him. Not while the rest of the patrol was here, of course. No. Quillsplash deserved to die alone, with as many wounds he could deliver and then Hedgepaw would be safe. Utterly safe and sound and he would never have to worry about her again.

Something snapped under his foot, a twig or something else he wasn't sure-- And the patrol glanced back at him. He did not care, but was rather fixed on Quillsplash, seething silently in simmering anger and a need to bite something. Hard, so hard his teeth might crack. He glowered at the tom, who truly had done nothing to earn Wolfpaws wrath, but had it anyways in that delirium somewhere in the depths of his mind.

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