Brightclan

[Rising Sun]

"Well this is Night..." Dawnstar said.

[Tainted~Wings]

Cheetahfang looked around

[despairz]

He flicked his tail a sat down, licking his paw and driving it over his ear. He smoothed his fur down and quickly looked sleek and thin, but muscular. He shot a glare at the fox-colored tom every once and a while. Finally he growled, "Stop staring at me." And continued washing himself.

[Rising Sun]

Dawnstar smirked and turned away.

[despairz]

He flicked his tail and turned around, looking at a root with a mouse on it. He dropped into a crouch and slid forward, his pelt blending in perfectly. He made sure he was downwind and continued, then pounced, killing the mouse before it could scramble into the roots. He carried it away and tossed it to Dawnstar. "I'd prefer to be called Nightpelt now." He says, half showing he was accepting her 'invitation' to be in the clan.

[Rising Sun]

Dawnstar broke into a grin, "I'll decide that last part back at camp... Nightpelt."

(Dawnsta lik Nighpelt.. nananananananh!)

[despairz]

{D'awwww! He likes her too!}

He flicks his tail, not showing anything on his face. He scrambles up a tree and turns around, slithering up a thin branch and breaking through the top. He sees the sky. Brilliant blue, like his eyes. He saw a nest of small birds and climbed down slowly, smacking the nest from the tree. He climbs down after it and grins as the tiny birds squawk and chirp, scared. He killed one, two, three off and buried them. He ripped apart the nest and carried the birds back. "Do you eat birds?" He asked, showing the large,feathered baby birds.

[Oliverstorm]

Foxfire decided that he was dismissed. He shot the 'Nightpelt' cat a final glare before turning away into the forest to collect herbs.

[despairz]

{Foxfire, are you Med. cat?}

He bares his sharp white teeth at him and sinks his claws into the ground. His fur stood up along his spine and he hissed threateningly. "I'm part of your clan now." He growls. "I'm not a threat."

[Oliverstorm]

Foxfire was already out of earshot. He expertly cut the roots of a plant, using a quick movement of his paw, cutting the delicate roots. The russet tom flicked his tail, and separated the heads and the roots of the flowers.

(Yes .3. )