Playfulness

He couldn't believe the foolishness of apprentices these days. They seem to have gotten worse since his own apprenticeship. The large, black and white tom had been lounging high above the ground, positioned on a thick tree limb. One hind leg was dropped down, hanging limp in the air while his other legs where tucked underneath him. He had simply been enjoying his freedom, not yet having tried to join that Bloodclan since his exile. Why bother? He would much rather watch from the sidelines like he had all those moons ago. Either way, he had been enjoying his day when that annoyance of a Medicine Cat Apprentice bounded into the picture.

He rolled his yellow eyes in irritation, moving his head so he could watch her from the safety of his branch. She seemed to be enjoying herself instead of doing her duties. Oh, how typical. Dyingember couldn't help but watch with faint disinterest. There was nothing better to do, and alerting her of his presence could cause the entire clan to fall into an uproar. Then again, that sounded like a wonderful idea.

The exile slowly rose to his feet, careful to make as little noise as possible. He inched towards the tree trunk, unsheathing his claws. He gracefully clung to the trunk, slowly sliding down until he was mere mouselengths away from the ground. The tom allowed himself to drop down, turning to face the playing, unaware apprentice. He crouched low, flicking his tail back and forth as he stalked towards her and out of the shadows. "Well, well, well. What have we here? A kit lost from her mother?" Sarcasm laced the tom's voice, boredom and a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. He couldn't quite remember this one. He was probably exiled while she was still an unimportant kitten, though the scent of herbs clinging to her pelt told him of her rank. It had since the moment she had arrived.

ooc: hope you don't mind me dropping in. ouo

"Somebody obviously doesn't understand sarcasm." Yellow eyes rolled in disgust, his voice dripping in irritation. He had always hated the young of the clan. Why else would he have allowed some dear kittens die under his watch? They were just a couple less annoyances messing with his fur. The tom stared this Rosepaw down, taking to circling around the apprentice as if he were a lion circling his prey.

The large rogue let out a tsk, tsk, tsk, keeping his pace slow and his head low. Black ears swiveled back and forth, listening to the she-cat's questions. He really didn't feel like answering such pointless questions, though he might as well humor her. He stopped his circling below the tree, sitting down and narrowing his eyes at the she-cat.

"I am Dyingember." His voice rumbled within his throat, rough and low almost as if he were trying to make himself seem more threatening than he really was. Honestly, he just needed to slip over to a stream and take a drink for his normal, less raspy voice to return. "I was merely enjoying myself up there. Haven't you ever taken the time to lounge around on a good branch?" He raised his head, straightening his posture with his tail coming around to curl over his paws. "Oh, that's right. You don't have the freedom to do such things while under the code of Starclan." He spat out the Ancestor clan's name, showing his obvious distaste for such a word.

He was almost pleased in himself when the apprentice became dumbfounded by his actions. Finally there was a bit of silence in the forest. His wishful thinking, however, didn't last too long when she became annoyingly peppy once more. Ugh, just his luck. He had to stumble upon the happy Shadowclanner. His fur ruffled a bit for no particular reason, if anything just to make him look even larger than he already was.

His bored yellow gaze instantly flashed at the she-cat when she asked about his belief in Starclan. Pah! Like he would ever dare to think about believing in them. He was quite sure there was something up there, but he highly doubted that sparkling, transparent felines of ages past lived up in the stars. "I wouldn't be caught dead worshiping something as petty as Starclan."

His gaze narrowed and his voice deepened. "There is nothing for you in the afterlife. If you do happen to go to Starclan, then there's nothing you can do but watch as the clans suffer." His head raised even more, and he let out a deep breath. "Once there was a time when I, too, believed in the ancestors like you, but that was moons ago."