(making one more character)

name: rustclaw
age: 51 moons
gender: male
rank: elder, had to retire a moon ago due to being blinded by an owl
"W-what!" Firstrike awoke with a start as she felt a paw jab her sharply in the side. For a moment she thought she was being attacked, but a moment later her eyes adjusted to see no intruders or predators, only a very cross looking Brightflame standing over her. "Oh, Brightflame," she sighed with relief. "It's just you. What's up?" She tilted her head curiously, completely unaware that she had just woken the ginger she-cat up.
Not surprisingly, it was Palestar's dutiful deputy who rose first to greet her. "Good morning, Woodtalon. Yes, it certainly is," she purred in response. "The prey should be running well today. I thought I might lead a patrol this morning--if that's alright with you." It had been a while since the leader had gone on an early morning patrol.
The sound of other cats' voices--well, mainly Slatepaw's--woke Graypaw from his peaceful sleep, and he blinked the bleariness from his eyes. Overhearing the conversation between the bubbly gray apprentice and her mentor, he volunteered through a yawn, "I'll go with you, if you want." While he was older and more experienced by Slatepaw by three moons, he didn't particularly excel at anything, and so he didn't think it'd be a big deal. Maybe training against a younger apprentice would actually give him time to better his own skills. He always seemed to be bested by the two sister apprentices, behind him by only a moon.
Tigerfrost had been waiting a few minutes now, watching as cats began to file out of their dens, but still no sign of Iciclepaw. Begrudgingly, he rose to his paws and headed towards the apprentices' den, tail whisking behind him. "Iciclepaw," his cold, stern voice sounded at the entrance of the den. "Get up. It's time to train."
Rustclaw's eyes fluttered open--and for a split second, he wasn't sure if they were open. It had been only a moon since the accident, and he still wasn't used to waking up to darkness. It made it hard to tell whether he was awake or dreaming sometimes, but the soft, rhythmic breathing of Crowtalon beside him betrayed that he was in fact awake.
In the elders' den, he thought bitterly. While he hadn't been forced to retire, he had struggled to perform his regular warrior duties and had been encouraged to make himself useful within the camp's walls. But although he had still been a warrior by name, he no longer felt like one, and had reluctantly chosen to retire. He told himself it was to keep Crowtalon company, and this thought made him feel slightly better about himself, but...
It's not the same. Sighing, he began to exit the elders' den, his tail tip flowing over Crowtalon's nose as he passed by.