For being leaf-bare, there was pretty decent weather, a nice, gentle breeze that rippled along Burn's pelt and a sun shining warm enough to warm his skin. If he tipped his head up, he could catch the warmth of the sun's rays peeking through the clouds, would have to squint his eyes whenever it uncovered itself. That was okay. It was better than the bitter chill he knew would happen every so often. 

Sand skittered across the surface of the beach as the wind kicked up again, and Burn shook his pelt to remove himself of the grains that settled there as he made his way down the shore. He felt out of sorts; normally, he'd never be caught just wandering the beach instead of doing something productive - hunting, training. But something about the day lowered his ambitions and he had just found himself getting to his paws and walking.

Which is how he had wandered close to the boundary line between CanopyClan and Tribe territory, pawsteps away from where sand became grass, lush in front of him with the ocean behind. Burn gazed across the border; he hadn't been alive yet before cats had split from the Tribe and formed Canopy, and still all these years later, he couldn't understand why. What was so good about Clans that they would leave the Tribe? Disgraceful.