time flies by in the yellow and green | cinderfrost

Flycatcher returned to camp under the early afternoon sun. It had been a long hunt, longer than he had hoped, and all he had to show for it was a sparrow. Whilst it would feed some of the younger members of the clan, Flycatcher wasn't very impressed by it. It was missing a few feathers already and even before Flycatcher had finished it with a killing bite it looked as though it might have just keeled over and died anyway if so much as a strong wind hit it. Well, at any rate, despite his fairly unimpressive catch at least he was living up to his newly given name.

Flycatcher for his hunting skills.

He wondered what his parents and elder sisters would think of that. He imagined they would be amused by the new names bestowed among the clan cats, much preferring and more used to the to the simple one-word form names.

As he was thinking about this, he suddenly found himself quite literally walking into someone. His sparrow fell out of his mouth in surprise and he stumbled back. The blue tabby shook his head and then looked to see who he had bumped into, finding himself staring at Cinderfrost. "Oh, uh, Cinderfrost, I'm sorry!" Flycatcher blustered. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I hope you didn't drop anything."