Storytime!

Rowantalon stretched, his black tail-tip twitching as he glanced up at the pale blue sky. Streams of weak, watery winter sunlight struggled to reach the ground, filtering between trees and occasional clouds with determination. The old tom sighed, his red fur ruffling in an attempt to coax a hint of warmth into his bones. "Hmph." He glanced up as a gaggle of apprentices skipped past, laughing and talking loudly. He remembered when his sons were apprentices- Crowpaw had always been such a polite, soft-spoken boy, but the other three... He couldn't blame Wildpaw for wanting to act more like his brothers, but Scorchpaw and Owlpaw never wanted to follow Crow's example. It was a shame, really, but they'd all turned out alright in the end.
The elder shifted slightly, taking in a deep breath before heaving himself onto his feet. It didn't look like anyone wanted to talk to him, so the graying elder turning to pad slowly back into his den. That was enough action for one day...

Ravenpaw recognized the familiar scent of her grandfather, and judging by the sound of his paw-steps he was headed into the elder's den. Quietly tailing Rowantalon, she stopped at the entrance to the den. "Grandpa? Can I help you with anything?"