=Foxtrap=
The orange tom turned his head slightly, after having noticed Thornpaw's accurate observation, eyeing Liontuft with an amused glint in his eye, "You've taught him well." He said in a low voice, as though if Thornpaw heard (which he probably did) it wouldn't be a good thing. Foxtrap cleared his throat and raised his head to see the rusted old shed, his small pawsteps growing more cautious as he neared the place. Even if all three toms knew by now that the place was empty, there was just something eerie and sentient about the warehouse. Like something might pop out at you at any moment...
Foxtrap leaped onto a thick, fallen branch that was leaned up against the trunk of a tree. His claws unsheathed, splaying out over the wood, his eyes gleamed with a predatory look. They were focused on a certain patch of moonlight that shone through the trees and onto the ground. His tongue ran over his chops as he heard the patter of tiny feet. Foxtrap reacted with lightning precision as a silvery figure passed through the patch of light, revealed in the open for a fraction of a second. The next moment, the tom was holding the bloodied mouse by the tail.
"The night is alive with mice... I think now would be a good time to hunt like a kittypet on too much catmint," Foxtrap was sort of known for strange analogies. The dangerous, predatory look came over his eyes again, but this time it was directed at Thornpaw. "There's probably a bunch of them in that warehouse... If you care to go inside."
Opalpaw followed closely at Tornear's heel, hoping her slightly distressed expression would not show. Even with two warriors accompanying them, the white-furred apprentice was still a bit shaken from the condition of Rainkit earlier. Also, Opalpaw disliked travelling outside camp when it was dark. Why couldn't the journey wait until daybreak?
Upon hearing a slight rustling in the bushes, Opalpaw quickened her pace to walk beside her mentor. It was probably just the breeze, she told herself... She looked up, "Tornear...?" Her voice was low and quiet, trying not to disturb the natural silence of the night, "Where do rogues come from?"