- May 17, 2023
- 298
- 99
- 28
It's been a sunrise since they were first buried alive in these tunnels, or so they think. With no brilliant face of light to guide them, the ragtag band of creatures can only rely on their own exhaustion to guide them from waking to sleep, and with the mere question of their existence exacting a toll upon them, the task isn't easy. Eventually, someone suggested they rest for the questionable night, to little disagreement.
The cool of the cave floor doesn't bother Cherrypaw too much; it hardly reaches her through her fur, a fourth of a kittypet's thick. The absence of a nest certainly does, but having slept on bare earth for the majority of their journey, she finds it...tolerable. The deep, even breaths of the cats around her are not a hinderance to sleep but a blessing: they remind her of quiet nights in the apprentice den, everyone too worn out from training to talk or bicker. Peaceful, almost.
She's on the verge of drifting off into sleep when she hears a faint chatter. Her WindClan friend is somewhere nearby, probably somewhere between her mother and Cherrypaw. (Cherrypaw wishes her mother was here. She hopes she isn't dead.) From her breathing and shifting, Cherrypaw can tell she's awake while most everyone is not. "Scorchpaw?" she murmurs, as quietly as she can. Hesitantly, the girl reaches out a paw to rest it on the other's leg. It's jittering. No, shivering. With a start, the apprentice realizes how cold the floor must be against the other's pelt, wreathed in flames but short-cropped nonetheless. Neither of them have experienced a Leaf-bare yet either. "You're cold." That's obvious. "Uh, here." Carefully, she scoots closer, then drapes her plumy tail around the WindClanner. "Use my tail." Suddenly, she feels a little awkward. It's a better feeling that just lying there while her friend trembles herself to death though.
@SCORCHPAW
The cool of the cave floor doesn't bother Cherrypaw too much; it hardly reaches her through her fur, a fourth of a kittypet's thick. The absence of a nest certainly does, but having slept on bare earth for the majority of their journey, she finds it...tolerable. The deep, even breaths of the cats around her are not a hinderance to sleep but a blessing: they remind her of quiet nights in the apprentice den, everyone too worn out from training to talk or bicker. Peaceful, almost.
She's on the verge of drifting off into sleep when she hears a faint chatter. Her WindClan friend is somewhere nearby, probably somewhere between her mother and Cherrypaw. (Cherrypaw wishes her mother was here. She hopes she isn't dead.) From her breathing and shifting, Cherrypaw can tell she's awake while most everyone is not. "Scorchpaw?" she murmurs, as quietly as she can. Hesitantly, the girl reaches out a paw to rest it on the other's leg. It's jittering. No, shivering. With a start, the apprentice realizes how cold the floor must be against the other's pelt, wreathed in flames but short-cropped nonetheless. Neither of them have experienced a Leaf-bare yet either. "You're cold." That's obvious. "Uh, here." Carefully, she scoots closer, then drapes her plumy tail around the WindClanner. "Use my tail." Suddenly, she feels a little awkward. It's a better feeling that just lying there while her friend trembles herself to death though.
@SCORCHPAW