[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220829/a0632580b2578888cdf950fac57864af.png[/img][/center]
[color=C9C0BB]StarClan, he hated mornings. But that didn’t stop Stormstike from jabbing a paw in his side in order to wake him up for dawn patrol. That had earned his brother a heated hiss from Smokestep’s side, but that was the end of that. They had work to do and they didn’t have all day to do it. Yawning, the young tom stepped out from the warrior’s den and greeted the morning sky with a narrow-eyed stare. The den seemed to be growing smaller with every passing season, though he wasn’t sure if that was because  they had more warriors or they were simply getting fatter. 

Smokestep yawned again, his paws stretching way out in front of him as his tail arched into the sky. When he was finally done with his morning exercises, he sent a disdainful look back towards the den. It definitely looked bigger on the [i]outside[/i] than on the inside. He wondered if he should tell Stormstrike to tell Coyotestar that they should probably extend the den at some point. It would be easy– all they would have to do was gather more long grass and lengthy fronds. [color=black][i]Doubt that Coyotestar’s in the mood to think of something like that right now, though.[/i][/color]

It had been a whole half a moon since… well, [i]that[/i] happened, and there had been no mention of the next Gathering since. Smokestep curled his lip as he padded towards the Stormrock. The thought of BreezeClan and FireClan merging together made his stomach wrench, but what could they do about it? There was no changing what Whitestar and Dawnstar decided to do without spilling blood. Now, would Coyotestar actually go that far as to start a war between RainClan and two other Clans? His tail lashed in frustration. He was always taught war was a bad thing, that StarClan never condoned it. Yet, at the end of the day, he would sink his claws and fangs into any cat’s pelt if it meant keeping Ashthorn and the little ones safe.

[b]”Morning, Stormstep!”[/b] came the upbeat voice of Sorrelwing. The she-cat sat right next to the Stormrock, her green eyes glimmering with energy. [b]”It’s been a while since we’ve been on patrol together. How are the kits?”[/b]

Smokestep smirked. [color=black][b]”Getting bigger every day. Took him a bit, but Batkit’s finally opened his eyes.”[/b][/color]

[b]”Oh, how sweet. I’ll have to pass by the nursery and say hi to Ashthorn. Must be hard to keep track of three kits!”[/b]

He let out a [i]mrrow[/i] of amusement. It was hard taking care of any kit. Smokestep of all cats should know. His poor mother had seven kits, and while only five of them survived until apprenticeship, he would never forget how crowded the nursery felt during his kithood. [i]That[/i] was something he wouldn’t wish on anyone.[/color]