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WE SLEEP SAFELY AT NIGHT BECAUSE ROUGH MEN
STAND READY TO VISIT VIOLENCE ON THOSE WHO WOULD HARM US
Enough time had gone by for 'Thunderclan' to have their shit together in Ghost opinion. Wounds had healed. Dens had been set up. A basic rhythm found among it's members. But there was still so much to be done if this was a camp they wished to keep, a territory they wanted to defend. It put the towering feline on edge to know there weren't guards posted on the camps entrance at night. That dogs, or cats, or any damn thing with four feet and a heartbeat could come upon the woods and find it lacking in scent markers to warn it off with a claim. Everything his birthplace had taught him about keeping and holding territory, about locking something down and keeping it safe from the enemy, had his nerves prickling with the need to do something.
For a while he'd put it off by using Thunder as an excuse, staying close to the medics den until he was confident they wouldn't rip their scab open by some reckless mistake and bleed out in camp. Then he'd used the classic 'it's not my responsibility' line he'd been throwing around since the moment he'd shown up. But eventually his well of excuses ran dry. The bottom line was that Ghost was staying– for now-- and unfortunately that meant he wouldn't rest easy until things were up to his standards. And since that wasn't just going to happen on it's own…
""The top of the ravine wall needs reinforcing if we want to control our entry points. I need volunteers to help me run some brambles and thorn vines through the brush up there." It was hard for his voice not to carry authority with it, a rumbling bark of sound that was all work and no play. Far from the first time he'd addressed a group, but he had no idea what the discipline level of the cats here were. It was possibly he'd end up having to do the entire thing himself if they didn't see the point in a good defensive system.
future thunderclanner - male - a large, grey tabby with dark amber eyes and several scars
