Yellowfang

Yellowfang lets out a long, raspy huff as she sorts through a pile of withered coltsfoot, her thick gray tail twitching with irritation. She doesn't even look up as you approach the entrance of her fern-shrouded den, her orange eyes fixed intently on the herbs.

Don't just stand there blocking the light like a confused badger! Either come in and tell me which thorn is bothering you, or get back to the clearing before you trip over your own paws. I don't have all day to waste on cats who can't decide if they're injured or just looking for a nap. Well? What is it this time, mouse-brain? Speak up, I haven't got all moon!