Quickly growing solemn as he seemed to transition to a more serious bearing, she let her vehement, depthless eyes avert to a point just past the tom in the timid way she always had done at first meetings. With a indistinct swoop of her delicate head, Streamspell breathed an airy chuckle under her breath. "Good choice, we already have a bunch of kit-like apprentices that need babysitting. What would you rather hunt-- forest-prey or fish? Beaver's Cove is a good place to catch some of the easier fish, while the forest is teeming with rodents and birds at this time of year; they're practically leaping into our paws!" Even though she was still curious of what his origins were, it was not her place to be digging into his past, and she could tell by his curt reply that he wasn't interested in elaborating. So instead she made no further mention of his history, hoping not to ruffle any pelts, and only gave the most faint of nods to show that she had heard him. Streamspell gave a shake of her long pelt before getting to her dainty paws, and craned her neck to glance back at him, awaiting his reply with a similarly vacant expression-- so as not to exhibit any lingering curiosity.
Falcontail let his gaze linger on the trees instead of the she-cat, Streamspell. He heard her voice, but the words seemed to flow right over his head. He too stood, and shook his head, to clear his thoughts. The tip of his tail twitched as he thought abut her question. Although he did like hunting in the forest, he was best at catching fish, so he supposed he would rather be down by the Cove. "The Cove sounds good to me," he murmured with an indistinct flick of his ears. He shook out his coat and returned his gaze to her. Motioning with one paw towards the entrance he allowed her to lead him out into the woods. He looked up at the leafy canopy and said nothing, for there seemed to be nothing of great importance to say to her. He wasn't much of a talker anyways, unless his temper was provoked.
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Riverstorm selected a mouse for himself, for he wasn't that hungry. He supposed he would eat later if necessary. He felt as though he had eaten too much the night before, and therefore he was still feeling the effects of last nights meal. His ears flicked and he lifted his head. He had not yet met all of the clan cats, for he wasn't very social. He had once been a bright and chatty young tom, but his past had morphed him into the cat he was now, which necessarily wasn't a bad thing, he simply was not as open and talkative. He allowed his tail a few lashes from side to side, before stretching out in a patch of sunlight. His eyes narrowed against the beams, and his obsidian coat gleamed. He kicked his long back legs out to one side and allowed his chest a few licks.
I added another cat. (Riverstorm) His info and picture are included with Falcontail's info on page 10.))
