He swore, he needed to keep a leash on that sister of his. Silentsmoke seemed to be the only thing in ShadowClan that could not only keep Quietstorm grounded, but keep her energy under control as well. But it would seem that today would be one of those unlucky days in which she simply couldn't hold still, and was instead racing through ShadowClan's territory on inaudible paws. The larger twin kept lagging behind like some uninterested parent, a pained sigh escaping his lips. Where in the name of StarClan did she get this energy?

Practically emerging out of nowhere, the smaller twin jumped to her brother's side with an eager yet irritated expression on her narrow face. "C'mon, slowpoke! The prey isn't going to hunt itself." She was quivering enthusiastically beside him, those golden optics gleaming with the energy of a thousand suns. Her head snapped away from her brother as she heard something in the distance, perhaps a fellow clanmate or a trespassing ThunderClan cat. In a blink of an eye, his twin sister was gone, just as fast as she had appeared.

"There won't be any prey to hunt if you trample it all." Although she was gone, Silentsmoke couldn't help but to mumble a sharp comment after his outgoing sister. He was positive she didn't hear him, but it felt good to say it anyways.

Quietstorm snaked through the undergrowth with well-trained stealth, her large ears pushed forward as she curiously searched through the territory to find whatever cat she had detected ahead. Effortlessly sliding through the gnarled branches of a fallen tree, the coal she-cat finally discovered a clanmate, uh...the red tom. She didn't know his name, he never said much. And she was perfectly confident that she could outdo him in everything anyways, so she never made an effort to converse with him. "Oh," Quietstorm began with a dismissive flick of her left ear, "it's only you. I was hoping it was some air-headed ThunderClanner."

Silentsmoke began to desperately race after his littermate, praying to StarClan that she didn't rush into something dangerous. Everyone knew that the explosive she-cat had a tendency to bite off more than she could chew. And Silentsmoke, of all cats, knew that better than anyone else. He seemed to be the only one capable of calming whatever storms she created, and he couldn't perform that task if he wasn't with her. He heard voices ahead, and pricked his ears anxiously. Oh StarClan, don't tell me she's off arguing with some ThunderClan cat...we'll be doomed.

Quietstorm eyed up the ruddy warrior before her, as if she was attempting to size him up. She was confident with her abilities, surely she could take this tom out whenever he was done with talking and ready to back up his words. The smaller black she-cat's personality snapped from passive to aggressive, the air surrounding her practically crackling with tension. The fur along her spine began to bristle, and her eyes narrowed into scrutinizing slits. "An air-headed ShadowClan tom that's all bark and no bite will suffice as my scratching post for the day. I'd be doing ShadowClan a favor-"

Her twin brother was thankful that he arrived in time before Quietstorm could go babbling on with her threats. Surely she'd jump at the passing clanmate's throat at any moment. She was volatile like that, and Silentsmoke both loved and hated her for it. He wasn't sure who'd die first, at this rate: her for running her mouth all the time, or him for attempting to end all of her arguments. The long-haired tom pushed his way through and stood in between the bickering cats, shooting his sister an admonished glare.

"Silentsmoke!" His hiss came sharply to demand her attention, causing the she-cat's head to snap in his direction. "He's our clanmate, for StarClan's sake."