"For StarClan's sake, Quietstorm, you're not that big that you have to take up half of the warrior's den." The long-furred tom sat awkwardly and stiffly, as if pressed against the walls of a shrinking box. His disgusted expression said it all, glowering at his sister as she spread herself across the floor of the sleeping area, taking up the space of a few nests with her extended legs and tail. For being one of the smallest warriors, she was certainly no mouse. Her presence was practically impossible to ignore, she always made herself known, one way or another. "Why didn't we name you 'Loudstorm', or 'Lazystorm'?"

"Why didn't we name you 'Not-very-Silentsmoke'? Stop your whining and let me sleep!" For being so "tired", the she-cat managed to speak very loudly. It wasn't quite time to sleep yet, but the pair of twins had been out actively patrolling for ThunderClan for most of the day. Silentsmoke had little interest in heading in for the day, but Quietstorm insisted (very obnoxiously) that her paws couldn't carry her another mouse-length outside of camp. 

The coal tom attempted to lay down in his nest, but immediately ended up with a paw shoved in his face as his sister attempted to shift and find comfort. Silentsmoke was considering biting her toes off at this rate. But as the mature "big brother", he had to keep his temper in check. Otherwise, she'd get really out of hand. 

Suddenly, she practically jumped out of her skin, leaping to her paws and running herself into a small pawful of other warriors who either weren't feeling good, or simply wanted some peace (but clearly didn't get it). "Ow! Some frog-brain but a thorn in my nest!" Quietstorm's amber eyes darkened as she glared around the den. "Which of you fox-hearts did it?!"

Still laying down, Silentsmoke rolled his eyes and prayed that nobody would jump the gun and attempt to have a verbal war with his hot-tempered sister.