Cold Toes, Stiff Joints [OPEN] Dec 29, 2013 19:44:40 GMT -5
Post by Bloodrose on Dec 29, 2013 19:44:40 GMT -5
The pale senior warrior stiffly rose to her paws, a soft groan leaving her as she pulled herself up. The way she moved spoke of a she-cat much older than her years. She was only in her sixtieth moon or so. There were cats much older than she was that moved with a more fluid gait than her heavily limping walk. She, however, had not had a walk quite as fluid as it had once been since her accident in the mountains. The fall had busted her shoulder, busted it so badly that she hadn't wanted to be told just how severe her injury had been.
The road to recovery had been long, but with her leg properly set by Ivypaw, and the rest she had been ordered to take, the healing had begun. She had first begun to walk, heavily aided by two other warriors, one on each side. Eventually, she only required one. And all the while, she had never given up on training her apprentice. Slowly, her shoulder had begun to trouble her less and less, until the snow had hit. The cold weather that accompanied the season of Leafbare had proved to be rather detrimental to her mobility.
On this particularly cold morning, it felt as though a piece of wood had been jammed into her leg, keeping it all from bending and moving as it should. The older she-cat was forced to limp, stumbling heavily onto her good side. Tired, pale yellow eyes glanced around as she exited the warrior's den. Her nights proved fitful, once more due to the never-ending throb of the cold against her wounded shoulder. Jaws parted in a yawn, revealing her teeth for a brief moment. With a soft snort, she continued her path to the dirtplace tunnel. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered getting up in the morning.
For the most part, her rather fiery personality kept her beating back any suggestion that she join the elder's den. Leafbare, however, was proving to be quite the opponent, even getting Fallenleaf to wonder why she had yet to retire. Unfortunately, she was pretty close to useless in this cold month, when the Clan needed more hunters, and less useless mouths to feed. Tail twitching in irritation at herself, the senior warrior limped away from the dirtplace, directing herself to the freshkill pile. Her stomach was quick to remind her that she was hungry.
A frown caught her lips when she noticed how little there was. It was early in the day, and the hunting patrols hadn't returned yet, but the amount... It was still pitiful. Pitiful enough that the senior warrior turned away from it with empty jaws. She could afford to eat later, once everyone else (especially the ones who were actually useful to the Clan) had eaten their share. Her eyes scanned the area once more, considering, perhaps, taking her apprentice for some battle practice, or other various skill tests. Unfortunately, Fallenleaf couldn't spot Skunkpaw anywhere. Instead, she decided she would go out hunting.
.... As soon as she took a moment to rest.