[Brilliance]

Originally Posted by Fern

Ashfeather slipped out of the camp entrance and headed towards the trees. He sat down under a large pine and turned his head towards camp, his ears perked and swiveling around. He asked his father to meet him outside of camp but didn't know where Quitedance was at.

"Quitedance?" He whispered softly, his yellow eyes glowing in the dim forest light. He waved his tail slightly behind him, nervous. It had been a while since he had talked to his dad and wanted to tell him that he was a warrior now.
His brother's ceremony was delayed, so he doubted Quitedance knew Ashfeather was already a warrior. He also wanted to make his father proud and was a little confused on what to do know that he is a warrior. His entire goal as a kit and apprentice was to become a warrior to make Feathermist and Quitedance proud. Now he was one and had no clue what to do besides warrior duties.

@Constellation

Quite as always, Quietdance wasn’t the type of cat to approach another and simply start an unnecessary conversation - as he dubbed them. Quietdance wasn’t a talker at all, but he liked to observe his clan mates around him. Armed with sharp hearing, he could detect a few giggling apprentices a few distances away, and a couple whispering sweet nothings to each other. Quietdance was lounging on a sturdy branch, hidden by the leaves, but he wasn’t far up where he needed to take caution if he were to jump down. Previously, he had woken up from a quick nap, and he had sat up to calmly groom himself. Quietdance knew he shouldn’t be out for too long as he didn’t want to worry his mate too much. Quietdance took a bit of time to silently admire the view of Shadowclan’s camp from a distance. His eyes settled on a familiar face and build of one of his sons. He couldn’t tell whether it was Cream or Ash...they had both suddenly become terribly distanced for quite some time. Quietdance jumped down swiftly from the branch, landing across from his son. Ah, Ash... Quietdance gave a quick glance-over at the tom cat, then gave him a curt nod. It was his signal of telling his son to continue on. If anyone knew Quietdance, they knew he hardly liked to talk. He was the type of cat that didn’t waste words. To him, words had a limit, and if you used too many of them, then you’d become mute. Quietdance took the inititive to sit next to the tom cat, allowing his tail to cover his paws.