Froststrike finished cleaning off her fur, and stood up, her icy gaze landing on Embereye, who was standing not far from where she was. Her eyes lit up as she pressed herself to the ground and slithered up behind him, a look of concentration and amusement plastered onto her face. Running her pink tongue over her lips, she built up her jump and then leapt on top of the older warrior, laughing as she landed on his back.
Creekpaw yawned and stood up to shake out his grey tabby fur. Stretching his muscles, his amber gaze flickered across camp until it settled on a bengal cat lounging on a tree branch nearby. She was a very tall she-cat. Sure, Creekpaw was quite tall himself, but certainly not as much as Savannah. Not yet, at least.
"Good morning, Savannah," he said, looking up at her from beneath her branch. "How are you?"