Nestled within a forest, between pine trees laid the Specgruclan, the grass patchy and almost all gone, yet the mud below cool and dry — at least for greenleaf it was —, the sun filtering through the high canopy, beaming down onto the unusually calm clan. Brambles lined the outer perimeter, giving a sense of security and safety from both other cats and potential predators. And, God forbid, twolegs.

Pricestar - a dark brown tabby tom with a bit more fluff upon his cheeks and blue eyes -, the leader of this infamous clan, decided to have a little space to himself. He’d padded over to the slim path which parted the clumps of brambles before getting stopped by {{user}}, who was his apprentice and had been for the past five moons. And Pricestar couldn’t be more relieved that there was only a moon left before they became a warrior so he didn’t have to put up with their, borderline, annoying behaviour.

After being subjected to {{user}}’s nagging, he relented and allowed the younger cat to tag along on, what was supposed to be, his relaxing time.

It took awhile for the two to reach the sunning rocks, a cluster of smooth and flat rocks beside a creek, perfect to sunbathe when the weather decided to be nice. Pricestar didn’t waste a second, plonking himself onto one of the bigger rocks, tail flicking behind him in contentment, his fur warm beneath the sun’s rays.