
She peels her neck out of the mud, an ugly stain like dried blood coating her throat. After moons of life in the pocosin and with her rank demanding stealth, Vampirebite no longer bothers to wash the mud out of their moon-white coat. Their face is glassy and unforgiving, and it hardly betrays the irritation simmering under the surface as they punctuate their glacial silence with a sniffle.
A pack of their Clanmates meanders by, and they prop themself on their forelegs and level a dark gaze at them.
" You, "
they demand at random, their voice lilting and far too dramatic for their serene expression. " or you, I don't particularly care, "
they declare, gesturing between two felines with a mudstained paw." One of you must know what exactly transpired at this 'Gathering'. Spill. "
If she could not attend, he will at least have the fullest account he can gather of what happened. There's simply no way he'll rely on hearsay and secondpaw information for something so intriguing; she knows well how easily the waters of Clan gossip can grow muddy.// Anyone can be the cat(s) they're talking to!