RIVERCLAN / WARRIOR / GRAY TABBY
A single stormy hued eye danced over the terrain they called home. The heavily scarred creature had become familiar with the medicine den over the past couple of moons, but now they were leaving and resuming their duties. The gray tabby rose to their paws carefully, shaking what was left of their fur. The nightmares of the creatures that had stolen parts of their fur, parts of their body...they plagued them every night. Yet, they refused to show any signs of stress. The non-binary feline kept their cool as they rejoined their clanmates. Their scars a stark contrast against their stormy hued fur. A reminder of the battle they went through shortly after receiving their warrior name.
"I want to be renamed...I want my name to be Dogsnarl. I want to reclaim my power over the creatures that tried to take my life." Their voice was strong as they made the demand to the leader of the clan. Porcupinestar nodded to the bloodied figure laying in a nest alongside the sick and other souls. He seemed to understand where the newly named warrior was coming from. "Stormstrike doesn't suit me. Not anymore." The black and white leader nodded once more and spoke. "Very well, I shall make the announcement tonight, Dogsnarl. I dislike the name, but I understand the need to feel power once more." The feline heard the announcement from the medicine den, confirming their new name. Dogsnarl.
The warrior watched as their former apprentice that they had only trained for a moon after their previous mentor had died at the claws of the same beasts. The feline smiled softly as they made eye contact before their former apprentice, now warrior padded from the camp while they remained safe within the walls of the camp. The freshkill pile was dwindling, a reminder that leaf-bare was nearly upon them. The smell of fish hung heavy in the air, the salty smell hitting their nose. A deep growl from their stomach reminded them how hungry they were. Most of the clan had eaten from what the marred feline noticed, which meant that the leftover was for the warriors. Grabbing the smallest fish, the warrior padded towards a sunny spot and laid down once again.
Placing the fish at their paws, the warrior looked over the river's horizon and sighed heavily. Finally a change in their view. Still struggling with the lose of their sight in one eye, the warrior tried to take a bite of fish, but missed. With a snarl, they tried again and managed to grab some of the flesh. Pulling it away from the body, Dogsnarl managed to barely hear someone standing on their bad side. With their mouth full of food, the warrior spoke with a bit of hostility. "Don't you think it's a bit rude that you're standing where I can't see you?"