bask in light; [open!]

A sneeze woke him abruptly. Patchcloud’s eyes blinked open, nose still tickling as he sat up in his nest. Light streamed through into the elder’s den, and from the warmth and the brightness he could tell it was at least sunhigh, if not a touch later. He hadn’t meant to sleep in so late- just a nap, he had told himself- but oh well, nothing he could do about it now. He just had to make the best of the rest of the day!

Patchcloud spared a few minutes to groom the moss out of his medium-length fur before exiting the den, another small sneeze announcing his appearance as he did so. He expected as much- newleaf was one of the tougher seasons for him, all the pollen in the air, he recalled his mother saying. Still, at least it was warm, unlike leafbare, by far his least favorite season. Now he had greenleaf and leaf-fall to look forward to.

The young elder moved towards the center of camp, finding a sunny spot to sit and wait. The last thing he wanted to do was bother anyone, and he did his best to keep out of the way of the busy warriors and apprentices moving by as he idly groomed his paw. But his expression was pleasant and kindly, inviting conversation- he always loved a good conversation or story- or perhaps a hunting trip, albeit a short one. Gingerfoot always did fret when her only son left camp, despite the tom's best attempts to quell her worries. But elder or not, he couldn't stay cooped up in camp all the time; he was still young, his bones and joints didn't yet ache (even if his lungs sometimes did), he could contribute, even in a small way.

In either case, some interaction was long overdue. Patchcloud surveyed the camp with bright orange eyes and a small smile on his face.