Only the good die young

It was finally warming up, something the old tom appreciated. With age, his pelt was thinner, making the cold all the more unbearable.

It had been a long time since the tom hunted, but even with his sight and hearing diminishing, he found that he could smell prey in the grasses, the scents of the herbs that he needed, even cats passing by.

It was this scent that had Gingerroot turn to face his company.

“’Ey, how’s the prey runnin’? Thank stars for the sun. Well, except those weird cats that smell like crowfood. Haven’t they ever heard of a bath or sharing tongues? Just smells gross.”

Softfall enjoyed hanging out with the elders of the clan. They made him think about the old times of Thunderclan, back when they were a clan of strength and security. Before the dark times, before Riverclan stole all their land and nearly wiped them all out. Helping keep the elders company and such gave him focus on what was most important, his clan which always came first in his mind.

Gingerroots question pulled him out of his daydreaming and he grinned glancing at the much older tom.

"...prey is running better now that the harsh season is over" he agreed with a nod. It would be running much better if we could finally reclaim sunningrocks which rightfully belongs to US from those.... fish eating excuse for warriors he thought to himself but did not say it.

The clan had been doing somewhat better since Morningstar had granted them some of skyclan's territory which Softfall had mixed feelings over... he wasnt about to turn down land but it felt strange... perhaps Morningstar was up to more than just met the eye.

He chuckled at Gingerroot's remark of the dark forest cats... they did smell pretty bad "indeed... you can usually smell them coming before you can even see them" he added on happy to pile on insults to their... 'guests'

“I didn’t know being mean in real life meant you could never bathe again, funny that.”

Gingerroot noted the warrior’s hesitation.

“Land comes and land goes, as much as I don’t like those tree hugging scraps of fur, I’m glad we have food.”

His eyes were partially clouded by age, but he still felt fully in control. He pitied those who lost their mice with getting older.

“So, just wanted to visit an old coot?”

There was something about being an elder that really freaked Gingerroot out. He had seen his whole world change, lived longer than almost any cat in the Clan. Was he being an extra burden? He never felt old until his sight went out on him, with hearing close behind.