Post by milkfur on Jan 30, 2010 18:28:09 GMT -5
Oilsmear
Oilsmear woke up from a good-night's rest, although everyday in the TunnelClan camp seemed like a nightmare to him. He was at the most surprised he had lived so long already. He shook some sand from his pelt before he groomed slowly, taking his time. The TunnelClan warriors had a high reputation for being fearless and boldly going where no cat had gone before. Why wasn't he like the rest of his Clanmates -- fearless and strong?
Why do I have to be different, StarClan? Is it really my fault that I was attacked by a Twoleg when I was a kit? he thought as he groomed his stump tail. It had been amputated when he was a kit because of the darn Twolegs; the same Twolegs that had caused him to be afraid of the city. His Clanmates seemed to at least recognize this and most of the time he was sent to the sewers to hunt. It was a relief to his conscious, but a big threat to his ego. Why is Clan life so hard?
He thought about going out to hunt on his own, stalking through the yucky sewers with fearless accuracy in the darkness that was always lurking there. He wanted to go hunting, but he knew that he couldn't -- not without someone else going with him. He never left the camp alone after his little accident and now it seemed that he would be camp-ridden forever. "Oh great StarClan," he murmured as he looked out across the clearing from the safety of the warriors den. "What have I done?"