- Jul 23, 2024
- 52
- 4
- 8
The wind had carried it from afar — that all-too-familiar, all-too anticipated earthy scent of rainfall penetrating dry ground. This pleasant aroma rouses Buckfire from his slumber immediately, drawn out of his nest like a moth to a flame. Hopeful expectation courses through his veins like his own ichor, his paws carrying him toward the edge of camp where he observes mountains of dark gray tumbling and bounding in WindClan's direction with the power of wild mustangs. They charge forth, hefty clouds overtaking clear skies and swallowing them whole until nothing is left.
For most, this sight was probably foreboding — a cause to scurry to cover and brace themselves for a torrential downpour. However, for Buckfire, this is exactly where he's meant to be.
Within a short while, slicing winds and fat droplets of cold water are battering and smacking the brown tabby's face without mercy. The moor runner's paws plant themselves firmly into the ground, molten gaze squinting as the rain washes over him. Adrenaline kickstarts his heart, an addicting thrill gripping his soul. "WOO!" Buckfire shouts against the gale, though it only roars louder as if to challenge his confidence. The pattering builds louder and louder, the rain only intensifying by the moment.
Craning his head against the winds, the soaking-wet tom peers across to see a few clanmates staring at him from the comfort of the camp shelters. They furrow their brows, tilting their heads at him as if he's crazy, though he pays no mind. Instead, Buck calls out, "This one's a real toad-choker!"
For most, this sight was probably foreboding — a cause to scurry to cover and brace themselves for a torrential downpour. However, for Buckfire, this is exactly where he's meant to be.
Within a short while, slicing winds and fat droplets of cold water are battering and smacking the brown tabby's face without mercy. The moor runner's paws plant themselves firmly into the ground, molten gaze squinting as the rain washes over him. Adrenaline kickstarts his heart, an addicting thrill gripping his soul. "WOO!" Buckfire shouts against the gale, though it only roars louder as if to challenge his confidence. The pattering builds louder and louder, the rain only intensifying by the moment.
Craning his head against the winds, the soaking-wet tom peers across to see a few clanmates staring at him from the comfort of the camp shelters. They furrow their brows, tilting their heads at him as if he's crazy, though he pays no mind. Instead, Buck calls out, "This one's a real toad-choker!"
-
-
— buckfire / 32 moons / he/him pronouns
— windclan moor runner / shadowing scorchstorm / former loner
— sh black tabby w/ orange eyes, nick in left ear & scratch on right side of lip
— click for tags