FALLING LIKE THE STARS &. sunrise

[FINCHCATCHER]

The camp glows, this morning, as Finchcatcher steps out from the shelter of the warrior's den. Soft hues of orange sunlight filter through newly growing oak leaves, washing ThunderClan in the rising sun's rays.

It's quite the sight, the sunrise. It's one that Finchcatcher often sees, but one that the warrior hardly ever takes in - hardly ever processes its true existence. But, today, in its particular strength and the blaze it covers the camp in, the warrior decides to stop - to observe the way the sunrise lights up his home and calls for it to awaken.

Is it always like this, so... so beautiful?

Perhaps the warrior should take in such a sight more often, if sunrises are always like this. Finchcatcher should let himself feel as content as he does now, yellow-green eyes watching the sky through tree branches that hang above him. He's up early for no particular reason today - a lack of sleep, more than a cause for duty. He thinks he'll sit around for a bit and let himself observe the sunrise for a while longer, settling outside of the warrior den with his tail wrapped around his paws.

For the first time in a while, Finchcatcher feels at peace.
​

 

[crowflower]

Late to bed and early to rise, Crowflower often enjoyed the quiet moments in between the comings and goings of her clanmates. It suited her to avoid the busiest times of day, so she caught up on lost sleep when the sun was at its highest point and her peers were gone from the warrior den. Crow was little more than a spirit haunting Thunderclan's camp; sighting of the green-eyed she-cat and her tangled black fur were rare, and it was even more uncommon that anyone who bared witness to her aimless drifting was able to exchange words with her before she retreated to the comfortable isolation of the woods.

On this particular morning, Crowflower had slept in later than usual. Orange rays of sunlight slanting through the small opening of the warrior's den sliced through a recently recurring dream of flying through clouds and startled her awake. Her heart skittered in her chest, feeling breathless as if she were late for something. She inhaled a deep breath, quelling the irrational anxiety. Soothed, Crow set about her daily routine of picking out freshkill to share with Wrenflutter and the kits for breakfast. The sight of Finchcatcher resting just outside the den caught the elusive she-cat off guard and she shamefully considered slipping away before he noticed her arrival. They were close in age, but little more than acquaintances. Where Crowflower was more of a warrior in name than in practice, Finchcatcher was a true fighter at heart. He wore the trophies of hard-won battles and near-death experiences clearly upon his striking orange pelt. It made Crowflower look childish in comparison with her dirty white socks and unruly black fur that always concealed cockle-burs despite Wren's valiant attempts to groom her sibling.

"Good morning," Crowflower greeted, soft voice uncertain. Moss green eyes followed his gaze and she let out an admiring breath. "I can't wait for summer," she said. "The sunrises only get better." And earlier, but that never bothered her. Several moments of silence hung between them before Crowflower found the courage to ask, "Would you like to get breakfast together?" She didn't, couldn't, look at him. Instead she angled her face to the waking sun, eyes shut against the brightness and her lips upturned in a faint smile.​

 

[Flamestar]

Her sleep had been troubled by another bad dream. Sleep still clung to her dark green eyes as she slowly lifted her head. She could see hues of oranges and reds flowing into the den, and she heard some of her clanmates also leaving their nests. It was still very early, and she could feel Flycatcher still sleeping peacefully beside her. On silent paws, she would gently hoist herself upwards to leave the den. Her heart fluttered as she emerged, the rising run reminding her of the flames from her nightmare.

It had been a long time since she had relived the burning of the forest in her sleep. Perhaps this sunrise had something to do with it? The sky appeared to be on fire, much like their camp had been several moons ago...all that was missing was the smoke. Her pelt twitched uncomfortably, the sky isn't on fire...we are fine.. she told herself, but it only brought her little comfort. Even though she was named after fire, she could only associate fire with being trapped in the camp, wondering if she was going to be saved.

Normally she would engage in a conversation, but the dream had left her rather on edge. Instead of speaking, she would simply dip her head in greeting to the pair that had awoken before her. She would pad off to the side, and begin grooming her pelt. Perhaps she would take Cloudypaw out later.

[₊⋆]​

​