Before Breakfast (open)

Dawn.

Or maybe, it was dusk. The dark veil of clouds that embargoed the sunlight made it hard to tell. It was possible that it could be both, or neither.

Or perhaps it didn’t even matter at all, and every moment that passed was just another vehicle moving the forest to its imminent death, to be forgotten under a bleak sky.

Sleet-thorn mulled on these things as he roused from another night of fitful sleep. Casting his eyes up to the sky, he was able to ascertain that it was dawn, by the faintly brighter splotch of gray in the clouds eastward. Even though the air was beginning to load up with humidity, the summer morning was still quite cool, and the noises of the marsh animals and sleeping clan mates were enough to allow him to relax a little and push the thoughts he woke up with out of his head. He laid for a while, just listening, then stood upright and stretched.

Sleet-thorn had a thing for waking up early. It allowed him to do some conditioning, and take note of changes that may have occurred during the night. His main use of the time, however, was to take a short walk and meditate on things while he had the silence and solitude available for to him.

As of late, there were many things to think about. He tried to keep his thoughts focused on a route to walk on, but his thoughts kept returning to the unsettling clouds above. He had heard what had happened at the gathering some time ago, and how the clans were reacting to it. These events were certainly important, but the catalyst was not much concern of his. Sleet-thorn trusted his leader and medicine cat to make sense of all that. The thing that concerned him most was the state of the forest. Cats in his good graces with looked at him when patrolling the borders, almost daring him to cross the border and start a fight. Hunting patrols were fruitless, coming home empty handed or with sickly food. Even his own clan mates were getting a bit testy with each other.

“There must be a way to solve some of this.” He thought. “I am a warrior of Shadowclan. It’s part of my duty to keep things somewhat civil, at least among my clan. I do wonder how…”

Sleet-thorn bent his neck to drink from some water pooled in the earth. Usually his mornings were spent in peace and quiet. The silence was broken when he heard his name called.

Things in the forest had changed. Anyone with the brain of a mouse could see it. To many it seemed like the clans had tumbled down a slippery slope ever since the last gathering. To Redthorn, however, it was just life being a big, fat, pain in the back. Why should she be concerned over what is causing the change? She just needed to survive it - and if possible, help her clan survive too.

So unlike some cats, who would sleep fitfully with nightmares born from worries, Redthorn was able to sleep soundly each night. The she-cat would rise shortly after the sun, give herself a thorough grooming, and then do whatever needed to be done. Redthorn, known for her sharp, rebuking tongue, would let others know if they were wasting time, or not doing a job right. The she-cat had a no nonsense attitude, and most looking for a friendly chat would shy away from Redthorn.

Redthorn woke in the early dawn light with a bramble sticking her side. She groaned as she pulled the bramble from her side, removing a small tuft of white and ginger fur with it. Well, since I'm up, might as well get started on the day. It was, after all, pointless to go back to sleep. In a short while her fellow warriors would be waking, and then sleep would be nigh impossible. So the she-cat stretched, and then slid silently between her den-mates as she exited the warrior's den.

The sky was overcast, which wasn't surprising. The gray had become the norm. It was just another part of the change that Redthorn had accepted. The gray sky, the lack of prey, and the dying forest around her. But, just because Redthorn had accepted this change as the new normal did not mean she wanted it to stay this way. Realistically, Redthorn knew that if the four clans of the forest were all experiencing the same change, they wouldn't be the four great clans for much longer.

As Redthorn stepped out from the den, her thoughts turned to freshening up before starting on whatever needed to be done. She was not due for a patrol until midday. Perhaps she would take a solo hunting trip this morning. StarClan knew that the fresh-kill pile was anything but a pile, and far from fresh.

A blur of movement caught the she-cat's attention just then. She turned her gaze to see what was the cause, and saw one of her fellow warriors. He had bent to take a drink from some water that had pooled inside the camp. Redthorn had not expected to see any other cats awake, but now that she saw there was a cat up, she vaguely remembered passing an empty nest on her way out of the den.

It took a moment, but the name for the warrior came to her. "Sleet-thorn." she meowed. She didn't speak loudly, but in the quiet of the camp it was unnecessary to speak loudly. Her normal voice carried clearly enough across the camp. Redthorn watched as Sleet-thorn's body language changed to show her had heard. The ginger-and-white she-cat padded over to her clan-mate. She ducked her head in a greeting and then Redthorn bent down and lapped up a bit of water. The water moistened her dry mouth and cleared her throat. After licking a few drops from her whiskers she perked an eyebrow up at Sleet-thorn.

"Are you normally up this early?"

"Sleet-thorn"

Sleet-thorn, still drinking, perked up his ears, and lifted his tongue from the water to face the sound of the voice that called out his name. Even before he saw her walking towards him, he knew it was Redthorn. He could pick her voice out of a crowd of yowling cats, and the distinct way it rang through the silence, even at its hushed volume, provided any assurance that might have been needed.

He de-craned his neck and returned to an upright position, and she was there, walking to him. He eyed her over once or twice, and noticed a small tuft of fur out of place on her side. As if something invaded the spot and she removed it.

Sleet-thorn always had a sort of fascination with Redthorn, as he did with most cats of his clan. Redthorn, however, was especially unique to him. Less through conversation and more through observation, Sleet-thorn could see that there were many similarities between them. Both of them carried the name thorn, and as such, both had a quick wit and a mastery of their own communication style. Both were powerful in both words and body, however, Sleet-thorn could never see the point where her hunting grace turned to raw power. Of course, there were also differences, such as Sleet-thorn being a bit more lax and contemplative, with a usually unwavering adherence to his orders, while Redthorn lived in the now, and, at least to him, seemed to be always moving and involved in some activity.

This morning, Sleet-thorn noticed the most striking difference of all. While he was anxious and still a little tired, she looked to be well rested. He opened his mouth to comment, but decided against it. He knew that Redthorn had a different way of seeing things than he did and such an observation could mean anything, besides, it would be rude to accuse a fellow clan member of apathy toward the downward spiral of the forest, especially at this hour. He was able to push the thought out of his head entirely.

Redthorn bent her head in a greeting and began to drink. He responded.

“Ah, Redthorn, good morning to you. I hope I didn’t disturb your sleep.”

She finished her drink.

“Are you normally up this early?”

He answered. “Yes, I am. The extra time allows me to deal with personal matters, and I like to watch the sunrise. However, it seems those are in short supply.” He paused for a moment.

“You know, I don’t recall ever seeing you up during these hours. What brings you to the morning?”

[Apologies for the shorter/later reply. Emergencies everywhere.]

Redthorn merely shrugged at Sleet-thorn's concern of disturbing her sleep. He hadn't bothered her this morning, or any morning prior. The warrior doubted his early morning jaunt, or whatever he did, would disturb her ever.

Redthorn had lifted a paw and began grooming her face. Sleet-thorn answered her question, and Redthorn politely listened as she smoothed her fur. Personal time, huh? Well, whatever keeps you going, Redthorn supposed. But she would rather had heard he spent this time doing something pysically productive, like hunting. Or patroling the borders. Or maybe even repair work. The brambles they used for the camps barier were growing brittle and broke easily. To keep the camp secure, the walls needed to be reinforced.

And who cared about sunrises? Those were things for hopelessly romantic couples. Not for Redthorn. Well, Redthorn thought, Sleet-thorn likes them. Whatever.

The tom had paused and then spoke up once again.
“You know, I don’t recall ever seeing you up during these hours. What brings you to the morning?"

Redthorn snorted "A bramble in my side." She gestured to the small bald patch that now graced her pelt. "It woke me. And I figured since I was awake I might as well do something useful." Redthorn added a slight emphasis to useful. Wandering around camp mulling over personal problems was not what she would considered useful. Redthorn had a fairly utilitarian outlook, and she did not see how what Sleet-thorn did benefitted the good of the entire clan.

The ginger-and-white tabby finished her grooming. She hadn't given herself as thorough a grooming as she normally would have, but Sleet-thorn was there, and while Redthorn was rude, she was not rude enough to groom and talk at the same time.

[[ooc: no worries, i think when problems hit one member of BTH, problems hit all members of BTH : P]]

While Sleet-thorn was talking, she noticed the Redthorn had begun to lightly groom herself. His first instinct was to stop his speech in the middle of he thought to allow her to groom, but he quickly pushed that out, and continued the sentence without so much as a dip in tone or pitch. It wasn’t like she was really making herself as clean as a fresh dewdrop, she was only smoothing the fur on face and repairing the cosmetic damage the bramble had caused. Even so, it was still in wee hours of the morning, and to him, this was as casual as a time and place could be. He shifted his gaze away from her as she maintenanced however. Sleet-thorn believed it rude to watch while anyone was fixing themselves, no matter how informal the situation.

"A bramble in my side. It woke me. And I figured since I was awake I might as well do something useful."

Sleet-thorn gave a muffled grunt that served to internally negate the slight poke Redthorn’s words gave him. It was a little message with a big meaning, and one Sleet-thorn noticed easily. Not that it was hard to
interpret the subtext of her words with her forward speech and personality, but here, Sleet-thorn was a little put off by it and firstly thought she meant to diminish the value of his morning routine.

“You know this cat, Sleet-thorn. You know she means no ill will toward you.” He thought.

Then he chuckled a little. He didn’t get much get to talk to Redthorn much since she was always involved in some task, but he enjoyed the discourse when it happened. “She is aptly named.” He thought.
Sleet-thorn looked up and saw that she had finished grooming. Knowing she would want to set to whatever task was at hand, and he wanted to take his walk, he realized they could both get what they want.

“Useful, hmm? Well, would you like to do a round around the borders then, and see who’s up when we get back?”


[Please let me know if I'm not interpreting Redthorn the right way. Still trying to get into the swing of things and I feel like I am missing something]