Lost Sparrows and Free Warriors [Closed]

patchpelt of shadowclan
walk into a smoke filled room, no one could keep their eyes off you

Come on Patchpelt, rise and shine, there are things you should be doing.

The voice was a quiet nag at the back of his mind, and gentle loop, and a conscious effort to make himself feel a little guilty for lying in his nest all day. Yet, it wasn’t succeeding. He was perfectly content there, wrapped up in the warmth of the moss and pine needles that gently tugged at his pelt. Just like he had been since dawn, when his paws carried him back in from guard duty as soon as the first warrior of the day appeared. As far as he was concerned, that granted him plenty of permission to continue lying around for as long as he wanted.

… Okay, perhaps not. Yet there was certainly no rush to his movements, when the tabby and white tom finally budged, stretching all four limbs out across the soft, damp ground of the warrior’s den. The air was warm, humid almost, yet as familiar as the sun and the moon. Nothing changed there, at least. Slowly, each paws came back into place, and he rolled onto his belly, lips parting in a wide, loud, and obnoxiously slow yawn. Enough to earn him a one-eyed glare from Adderfang, from his position at the rear of the den. Patchpelt blinked apologetically, and earned himself a grunt for the effort. StarClan, okay, maybe there were cats who needed more sleep than he did.

Rolling onto his belly, the tom carefully pried himself off the moss, and onto four unsteady paws, just in time to prevent a slip back down with the latest yawn. Well, he supposed that meant it was time to do… something. What though? See Doverain and the kits? That was tempting, but, no doubt his mate would want sleep and time to herself for a while. It felt like he’d been in there since she’d had them. There was likely something else that would demand attention, though, so he’d just give Doverain the time to herself. Sure enough, as he pushed himself slowly out through the entrance of the den, immediately his green eyes found the form of Sparrowpelt, standing somewhat awkwardly there in the clearing.

She looked deep in thought, kind of? Or maybe waiting on something? Who knew. However, the face was one that was welcoming, and certainly not one likely to order him off on a patrol immediately. That was good enough a reason for him. “Hey, Sparrowpelt!” He chirped loudly, from across the clearing. Slowly he started padding across to her, no attention paid to the speed of his movements. He had the feeling she wasn’t about to run off on him or something. “How are things? You look like you were waiting for an apprentice to emerge to enlist them for help or somethin’,” he continued as he moved closer, eventually reaching the she-cat, a lazy grin stretching across his face. “If you are, I’m down for filling their duties for ‘em. Before Onyxfeather catches me and throws me out patrolling or something, anyway.”

little dove, you fight 'em back, show em you're so much more than that