He hated when there was nothing to do. After doing his daily patrols - hunting and border both - he found himself straying from camp due to boredom. The young tom didn't know why he strayed, but he had a few inklings about it. Most of all, he wasn't sure where he really stood with MoorClan. Did they respect him? Did they value him? He wasn't so sure at times. Surely they tolerated him, else he would have been kicked out long ago. He had little friends and fewer cats he actually respected. He supposed he couldn't ask his Clan to do that when he held such a base emotion for them.
Oh well. It wasn't like he could force people to like him. Much as he wanted to be left alone, Rookshade still wanted to at least have some level of acceptance from his peers. It was hard to be constantly alone. He may put a brave face of it, but deep down he was lonely. Though his Clan would never know this. They couldn't. He was supposed to be strong - for them, for himself. So as to why he was outside his Clan's camp near the evening? Simple; he was just wandering. There was no formal reason for it. Most knew he took to his own company anyway. His paw steps were light as he followed the trail, his eyes cast to the GorgeClan side of the border.
He didn't put it past anyone to cross a border - be they loyal warrior or new apprentice. His tail lashed once, but his eyes eventually strayed away from the other Clan's side to view his own. His fur bristled as he felt eyes on him, but the scent of what Clan was unknown. There were too many heavy smells here to distinguish. He remained quiet, stopping his wanders and waited for the other cat to simple ignore him or challenge him.