- Oct 3, 2022
- 12
- 1
- 3
( ☾ ) there is a reason their homeland is named for the shadows. as snow floats across borders, blanketing the tall trees and sunlit meadows of the other groups, the marsh remains, solitary, quiet. it's a dark place, but not uncomfortable, rather full of a rare warmth, spurred on by the close kinship of the dark dwellers. the marsh group's fire burns close to its heart, a low and hot flame, undetectable though it is to those who would scorn them. the clan is named for the state they live in - darkness wraps around them like a cloak, an aid rather than a hindrance. they thrive in it.
when day pulls on her long black coat, slinking behind the cover of the moon, the shadows come out to dance, and dance they do. much of the marsh is alive at night, tiny creatures flickering through the trees, hurrying away, perhaps, from the sound of pawsteps. hollyfrost thrives in this state. they stalk through the territory, paws splashed with mud, tail dripping dirty water onto the path behind them. eyes of amber gaze about, mottled nose twitching to scent the air. a musty earthen smell comes back to greet her, carried fresh on a brisk breeze. it ruffles their fur, separating charcoal from moonlight, and he sighs with delight. clutched in their torn maw, two scrawny rats hang by their tails, swinging gently against his chest as he walks.
it's this kind of messy peace that forces the feathery feline out at night, their goal to fetch as much prey as possible. if he manages to dirty his paws while doing so, well, it's no one's fault but their own. tonight the sky is clear and dark, moon glimmering down on him as he traipses across familiar trails, scanning all around them. a movement above stops him in his tracks. there, in the sky, a creature soars, half hidden by trees, gliding effortlessly through the air. an interested gaze tracks its movement and hollyfrost sets their rats down gently, tucking them beneath the crystalline snow beside them. then, ears flattening and eyes wide, he crouches, hind muscles rippling with effort as he leaps up into a low tree. his stomach flips as he lands, teetering on wet bark, and thornlike claws slide out to grip the branch. he is no skyclanner, and there is hardly any dignity in perching in this tree, but this is the best prey he's seen in moons. above, the bird swoops, low enough that they can almost grab it…
there! deft claws snatch it from the air and the delicate feathered wings tear slightly under the force of the catch. he takes it in her mouth and shakes, satisfaction warming his chest as he drops back to the ground. it is a magnificent catch, if he does say so himself, and he does. confidence sparks under their paws as he snatches up his other catches and sets off to camp. the gaunt, skeletal rats will hardly feed one warrior, but this bird, with its long beak trailing on the ground, has some meat on its bones. it's a snipe, a muddy, swamp dwelling bird, and its appearance in his marsh home brings up some semblance of hope. stars, he prays that shadowclan will not have to rely on stealing much longer. his brother is doing his best, but thunderclan has powerful allies.
slinking into his home, hollyfrost purrs softly as they set the bird upon the kill pile. he is not one to brag, rather he backs away quickly, glancing around at the twilit activities of his clanmates. the kits have long since gone to bed, and now remain the warriors and older apprentices, finally sitting down to gnaw on whatever leftover prey there is, after long days of leaf-bare training.
when day pulls on her long black coat, slinking behind the cover of the moon, the shadows come out to dance, and dance they do. much of the marsh is alive at night, tiny creatures flickering through the trees, hurrying away, perhaps, from the sound of pawsteps. hollyfrost thrives in this state. they stalk through the territory, paws splashed with mud, tail dripping dirty water onto the path behind them. eyes of amber gaze about, mottled nose twitching to scent the air. a musty earthen smell comes back to greet her, carried fresh on a brisk breeze. it ruffles their fur, separating charcoal from moonlight, and he sighs with delight. clutched in their torn maw, two scrawny rats hang by their tails, swinging gently against his chest as he walks.
it's this kind of messy peace that forces the feathery feline out at night, their goal to fetch as much prey as possible. if he manages to dirty his paws while doing so, well, it's no one's fault but their own. tonight the sky is clear and dark, moon glimmering down on him as he traipses across familiar trails, scanning all around them. a movement above stops him in his tracks. there, in the sky, a creature soars, half hidden by trees, gliding effortlessly through the air. an interested gaze tracks its movement and hollyfrost sets their rats down gently, tucking them beneath the crystalline snow beside them. then, ears flattening and eyes wide, he crouches, hind muscles rippling with effort as he leaps up into a low tree. his stomach flips as he lands, teetering on wet bark, and thornlike claws slide out to grip the branch. he is no skyclanner, and there is hardly any dignity in perching in this tree, but this is the best prey he's seen in moons. above, the bird swoops, low enough that they can almost grab it…
there! deft claws snatch it from the air and the delicate feathered wings tear slightly under the force of the catch. he takes it in her mouth and shakes, satisfaction warming his chest as he drops back to the ground. it is a magnificent catch, if he does say so himself, and he does. confidence sparks under their paws as he snatches up his other catches and sets off to camp. the gaunt, skeletal rats will hardly feed one warrior, but this bird, with its long beak trailing on the ground, has some meat on its bones. it's a snipe, a muddy, swamp dwelling bird, and its appearance in his marsh home brings up some semblance of hope. stars, he prays that shadowclan will not have to rely on stealing much longer. his brother is doing his best, but thunderclan has powerful allies.
slinking into his home, hollyfrost purrs softly as they set the bird upon the kill pile. he is not one to brag, rather he backs away quickly, glancing around at the twilit activities of his clanmates. the kits have long since gone to bed, and now remain the warriors and older apprentices, finally sitting down to gnaw on whatever leftover prey there is, after long days of leaf-bare training.
( THE LOVELIEST LIES OF ALL )
