Just in the den (open)

Mumbling softly to himself, Nightpaw stumbled into the apprentices' den and over to his nest against the wall. He flopped on to the pile of moss with a thump and sighed, curling his tail over his nose. It was funny, he hated when he was living as a loner, but even after he was taken in by ThunderClan, he was still unsure about being around so many cats. It was great, to some extent, but he missed his mother dearly.

The black cat rolled over on to his side and noticed another cat in the den with him. He'd seen this apprentice around, but never really talked to him. Sitting up, Nightpaw mustered up all the courage he could and padded over to the younger apprentice. "Hey... Ummm. M-my name's Nightpaw. What's your n-name?" His tail flicked back and forth nervously. The black tom was scared that this tabby cat wasn't going to want anything to do with him.

Nightpaw's gaze widened in surprise seeing the cat face him. To be honest, the black cat wasn't expecting to see such a... well, mess. The torn ears, the strange blind eyes and matted pelt. The tom felt bad for the other cat and wanted to reach out to him, but he was scared. Scared of rejection. He'd never gotten close to any cat after his mother, but maybe, he could become friends with Blindpaw.

"You weren't born in the clan, were you, Blindpaw?" It was a simple question, one Nightpaw probably already knew. The tom padded over to sit beside the tabby, his black pelt touching the other tom's. Despite the fear that crept up in him, Nightpaw started to groom Blindpaw's pelt, cleaning the mats out and picking out bits of moss. "You know, I wasn't born in ThunderClan. My parents and I used to be loners, roaming the forest and trying to stay fed."

Nightpaw froze, tongue in mid-lick across the tom's pelt. He pulled his head back and looked at his paws, fighting to keep his claws sheathed. The black cat hated thinking about his father, the evil lowlife that he was. Gritting his teeth and swallowing hard, Nightpaw exhaled slowly. "My father was a decent cat when I was younger, says my mother. But after my little sister died, he turned mean. He hated my guts for some reason."

He curled his tail as tightly as he could get it around himself, and sighed. "He tired to kill me, when I was littler, said I'd never amount to anything. And then, he just disappeared." Nightpaw hung his head, hissing softly. He hated his father, Dragon. It was easy to see why that loathsome cat was given his name. As much as the apprentice hated it, parted of him still missed that cat, even though he was the one who left the pretty pink scars across his belly.

Nightpaw glanced up, looking at Blindpaw's shredded ears, and shuddered. So he too knew the pain of his own father's claws... He sighed, not know why anyone would do such a thing to a kit, let alone their own son. Though the black cat wondered what would have happened, had he'd been killed. Would his mother still be alive? Would she have been killed, too? His heart twisted in pain, as his stomach did an uncomfortable flip. He loved his mother much too dearly to think about that.

"I'm sorry, Blindpaw. Seems we have much more in common than I thought." The apprentice game an uncomfortable chuckle, but quickly stopped, knowing this was not an amusing subject to be talking about. To stop himself from saying something else completely stupid, his rasped his tiny pink tongue over the tabby tom's pelt, smoothing out another patch of matted fur. "You know, you're the first cat I've really talk to around here."