A broad-shoulder ginger tabby tom sat alone in the far back of the tree hollow that was known as Earthclan's Medicince Cat Den, idly sorting through the pile of herbs that he had just collected from around the territory. It was just him now; no one had taken him on a tour of the territory, showing him what was dangerous and what wasn't, no one had shown him where to find all of these herbs, which were crucial for the clan's long-term survivial, and no one had told him how to properly organize the den that was his new home now and forever, even though it was slightly cramped and longer than it was wide. Firepaw scowled to himself as he pushed a pile of dried oak leaves to the side, and his tail lashed behind him furiously. He was six moons old now; he should be a warrior apprentice right now, like Pondpaw was, not stuck in here! It was been over a moon since he was made the offical Medicine Cat, but the unfairness of it all still made him furious. 

Right out the hollow, a small bird rested on a low hanging tree branch and began to sing a cute little song. Almost immediately Firepaw turned and whacked the hollow wall with a large paw, causing the bird to chirp wildly and fly away in fright.

If he couldn't be happy, why should anyone or anything else be?