Post by Wild on Sept 4, 2017 2:23:45 GMT
372 WORDS | Rainfang made his way into the leader's den, his entrance marked by the uneven scuffing of his paws against the stone. He surveyed the den with a sharp eye, the details of every nook and cranny etched into his memory from moons long past. It remained the same from so long ago when Skystar resided here and he spent his days beside his father learning the ropes of leadership. The gray tom's good eye focused on the lump of ginger asleep in a bundle of moss and grass. He scolded at the form before him, not for the first time imagining himself in the place of his brothers. How easy it would be to take back what was his in this moment, an image of his teeth sinking into Rowanstar's throat flashing before his eyes only to be gone in a blink of an eye. Rainfang glared at his brother's sleeping form, the fantasy in his head something that would sadly never come to be. He may be bitter but he was far from stupid. If he ever did something so idiotic Dawnclan would chase him out and he'd be left wandering the Wilds with his mother. However tempting it might have been to see Spottedbird again, he had plans for his clan. The more affectionate side of Rainfang knew he didn't actually want his brother dead anyway; he just wanted him gone. Besides, if he really wanted to be rid of Rowanstar's rule he knew not to look to the past, but to the future. It was well known in all the clans that Rowanstar had yet to take a mate and with Rosecloud's kits now growing Rainfang was running out of time to come up with some heirs of his own. As of now it was best to try and play nice and let time be Rowanstar's worst enemy. For now. Rainfang shuffled over to his brother's side and nudged him with his good front paw. "Wake up." He grumbled. "You're coming hunting with me." With that the gray tom promptly sat on his haunches and waited for Rowanstar to stir. His brother may be his King, but Rainfang would never let the tom forget who the position was truly meant for. |