GRAVELPELT.
warrior of thunderclan?
It was a lovely night, all things considered.
Gravelpelt certainly hadn’t gone to bed earlier that evening expecting to be dragged out from a deep slumber by Wildstar, but how could he refuse his leader’s request for an impromptu walk? She’d looked a bit shaken, which had instantly appealed to his caring side. Not too mention it wasn’t worth causing a scene over, as he could simply go back to sleep when they returned to camp. He hadn’t been scheduled for the dawn patrol, so what would it hurt to traipse about the forest with his leader who had hardly ever paid him any attention before? Yes, this was most definitely not a normal night.
The temperature was perfect, however, as Greenleaf transitioned into Leaf-fall. There was a slight breeze to rustle the dying leaves overhead, and some crickets could be heard singing their songs off in the distance. Any annoyance he might have felt at being dragged out of his nest this late at night was assuaged by the territory’s atmosphere. Though it was also sharply offset by the odd sense of foreboding about himself.
“Far be it from me to question your leadership style, Wildstar, but why… Why did you ask me along on this walk?” He finally posed the question, a bit hesitantly for fear of annoying the already frazzled looking she-cat. Gaze sliding from where he’d been studying her figure in front of him to the foliage in front of her, he realized they were rapidly nearing the RiverClan border. Gravelpelt hadn’t even known they’d made it this far already, and the new setting only raised more questions for him.