Storm and Mistedstar try to make friends.

"Yeah, right..." he muttered lowly. It was so messy, and he should have gotten it the first time. Storm flinched, imagining the sharp feeling of his father's claws going down his pelt, punishment for simply not being good enough. He shook the feelings off and threw a smile on her face. "... A warrior? Alright..." He sounded uncertain, but still padded eagerly after Mistedstar.