Sekhmet had risen with the sun ever since she was a kit. Today was no different as her biological clock roused her eyes to open in the shaded elder's den. One thing that had changed, however, was how willing her joints were to support the aging feline.

"Blast you, I don't ask for much these days," Growling at her own body, Sekhmet bit down on a well-chewed stick that she kept next to her nest as part of this routine, but today she found her limbs particularly stiff. It made sense. A cold front had recently blown in and she wasn't the only elder who was having a hard time adjusting to it. That being said, she was one of the only elders who kept the suffering to herself, having not visited Graythorn once since her pain had increased.

The golden-furred she-cat made a sudden movement and finally was on all four paws, but a shooting pain burned though both of her hind legs, nearly dropping her back to the ground. Instead of giving in, she let out a pained, but muted yowl - dropping the stick to the ground with a clack! - and forced herself forward, getting more and more sure-footed with each step that she took. A few seconds later she finally exited the elder's den.

Sekhmet's silver eyes turned upward as the blue-gray night sky was beginning to be chased away. A smile graced her lips as she made her was to the corner of camp that had the best view.