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nickname rose gender molly age thirty-one moons location camp tagged salmonpaw
- indentbriarheart awoke in the early hours of the night, much before the sun began to rise over the horizon. this was typical for the she-cat, sleep was fleeting for the petite warrior. with a faint sigh the molly rose to her paws, careful not to disturb her clanmates and silently exited the warrior's den. camp was blissfully quiet before sunup, the trees that stood tall behind the clearing shook lightly with the early morning breeze that gently swept through the forest. briarheart took a moment to herself and stretched, easing her body into the day ahead. the sky was still trying to wake, a beautiful shade of blackish-blue settling comfortably over daisyclan's territory. the she-cat decided that she'd take this time to watch the world stir from it's slumber from the old abandoned barn, and hunt while the prey foolishly slept.
crossing through the wheat fields briarheart approached the barn with caution, careful not to wake the potential meals that concealed themselves inside. the molly crept closer to the large doors that loomed over her small frame and crouched, inching forward slowly. she noticed out of the corner of her eye a fat tail rustling in amongst the hay pile that sat sprawled outside the weathered building and positioned herself accordingly. oh, you're not going anywhere. the she-cat thought to herself, her muscles rippling with anticipation. briarheart leapt with quick, precise speed and sunk her claws into the unsuspecting animal, silencing the rodent with a swift bite to the neck. satisfied with her work the molly gently dropped the lifeless rat on the parched earth beneath her and sat back on her haunches, licking her front paws clean of dirt and debris. the sun had just begun to peek over the skyline, blanketing the territory in a brilliant shade of orange. briarheart bathed herself in it's glory, relishing the new morning's warmth. with freshly groomed paws the nimble warrior stood and scooped up her prize, deciding it would be best to make her way back to camp.
briarheart padded into the clearing with little interest in the hustle and bustle around her. she swiftly made her way to the fresh-kill pile, placing her catch softly atop the small mound of meat. the she-cat noticed warrensky off to the side of the growing pile but said nothing, thinking it would be best to steer clear of his unmistakable sour mood. the molly collectedly looked around, her rich honey eyes scanning the surrounding area. she saw her apprentice, salmonpaw, and several of her clanmates briefing just outside of the apprentice's den. salmonpaw was blooming into a promising hunter and briarheart was satisfied with her progress, although patience was something she greatly lacked with the younger feline. sometimes it felt like salmonpaw was testing her. crimsonstar had spoken to her several days prior inquiring about the apprentice and her training, but briarheart tensed at the mentioning of her disciples assessment. the molly hadn't given it much thought, but as she watched salmonpaw from afar she considered taking the younger she-cat to the river to let her demonstrate her skills.
