[tigerthorn]

✗ i know my soul's freezing      hell's hot for good reason Things were quiet. That's the way Tigerthorn liked it, quiet. It was rare that they could lounge around and do nothing without feeling guilty. The sun was warm enough that the sharp cold breeze didn't chill Tigerthorn completely to the bone. In fact, it was nice. Tigerthorn didn't mind the breeze ruffling through her fur.  Tigerthorn liked to think she was a social creature but even social butterflies needed rest. Tigerthorn herself needed a breather and headed off into ShadowClan territory on her own. Tigerthorn had no real destination, rather following thoughts and familiar motions until she wound up at the burnt sycamore. Tigerthorn was surprised by the fact that there were no warriors out with their apprentices and the ash in the ground seemed still. Nobody had set paw in the location today. Tigerthorn wasn't about to deny a nice gift however. The snow had been cleared away for sparring but there was a thin blanket from the last snow-fall. She started to brush the snow away, packing it the side so the little training hollow would be cleared for apprentices. Perhaps a few warriors would come by and Tigerthorn could practice her own sparring. Tigerthorn flexed her claws instinctively, glancing down to her paws. Tigerthorn liked to keep her skills sharp, claws sharper. It wasn't as though Tigerthorn wished for war, far from it. But Tigerthorn was built for war, was fed on battle and old scars and even older habits had yet to heal.  She paused, inhaling the air as the sharp coldness stung the back of her throat. At least today wasn't as cold as the others. Small miracles.