{For @
Pandora}
Every day was the same for Wrath, every day appeared to be clouded in a red haze of anger, it took up everything he did, blinded his judgments and everything else, not that he was aware of this, but really, he was helpless to his nature. There was nothing that he could do to change this. He was born angry and he'd likely die angry. Really anger is an understatement of what it is, it's more like absolute, pure hatred, wrath, infinite and violent revulsion. There has not been a time in his life where he's even been remotely close to the soft term 'angry', much less anything close to this emotion that cat's call happy. It was almost as if he was cursed with only feeling one emotion, the one he was named after. One could look upon him with pity, the poor cat couldn't experience any sort of joy in life, any sort of love, all it was.. Was anger. But should you choose to pity him though, make sure you do it far from him, in fact, I advise you always stay far from him. Considering his strong hatred, he tends to be extremely volatile and has been known to violently lash out at others should they get too close and he's in one of his worse stages of wrath, once even killing a kit with a single blow to the head. He's just.. He's a very violent cat and should really be overall avoided.
Wrinkling his nose into a horrendous scowl, the messy-furred, large tom stalked out of the den for the fighters, his head lowered and his muscles rippling beneath his coat of long fur. He gruffly made his way to the tattered pile of prey, sifting through it roughly with one of his large paws before yanking out his choice of prey, a squirrel, and prowling off to a good spot to eat it, plopping down with an audible thud and beginning to rip into it, most of the other cats giving him a wide birth as they passed by, Wrath simply ignoring them.