Thunderstorms [P] [Drought]

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Rain trotted aimlessly towards the river. He leant forward to take a drink, leaping back as he felt a raindrop splatter on his pelt. He looked up. A storm was gathering, quickly, but Rain enjoyed storms. He sat there, enjoying the feeling of water against his pelt, not making a move for shelter.

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Drought also likes storms, though he wasn't a huge fan of getting his pelt soaked. It was all too easy to catch some sort of illness in a damp place like DeathClan. Luckily, many cats had built up an immunity due to spending so much time in and around the swampy areas of the territory. He could only hope that this leaf-bare would not bring greencough to his group.

The leader wasn't particularly hungry, nor was he tired, so he decided to take a stroll towards the river. Cat-scent greeted him as he arrived at the edge of the trees. After casting a glance around, the patched tom soon noticed Rain and approached him.

"Hello. I take it you don't mind the rain?"

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Rain shot up in surprise, loosing his footing, as he heard a voice. He lurched towards the river, only saving himself by sinking his claws into the wet earth. He whipped around.
"Drought? Oh, yes. I enjoy it." He replied, padding away from the river.
"How are you?" The blue-gray tom honestly didn't care about how his leader was feeling, but he knew it was better to have a good relationship with him. He leaned back on his haunches and tipped his head to one side, waiting for Drought to respond, not caring that water was dripping down his ears.

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He chuckled softly when the peasant noticed him and nearly fell into the river. "Ah, did I startle you?" Drought twitched his whiskers as he sat down a few tail-lengths from Rain.

"I'm well." Not entirely true. "I see that you know me... but the question is, who are you? I assume you're new to DeathClan." Most of the more experienced adults weren't the sort to sit around and do nothing. This was a place of action, where your words didn't always matter and keeping your claws sharp was just another unspoken rule.

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"I'm Rain."
The blue-gray tom dipped his head to Drought, waving his tail to get rid of the water soaking through it. He padded back to the river, slicing a leaf in half on the way.
"Are you hungry?" he mewed, gazing into the deep, swirling waters of the river. Silver fish breached the surface and he licked his lips.