- Mar 18, 2025
- 14
- 4
- 3
There was a chill in the air that morning, the wind ripping across the moorland with enough ferocity to ruffle even the thickest of coats. Regardless, the small framed kit dared to brave the terrain regardless; this despite the instinctual urge for her to curl up into a ball amongst other kits and nursing queens to seek warmth and shelter until the sun warmed the earth's surface more. Above all else, Doekit was driven by curiosity. An only child with a mostly-apathetic mother and an absent father, she was desperate to fill her days with excitement as she counted down the days until she was finally old enough to be apprenticed. Just two more moons, she thought as she eyed the edge of camp, paws itching to discover what awaited her outside.
That felt like an eternity, even though it would surely be there before she knew it. Wistfully, an inquisitive green gaze combed the campground, looking for something to entertain her that early morning. After several heartbeats of examination, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as she found her first game of the day. Lowering her body into a clumsy hunting crouch, she prowled closer to the movement she spotted until she was nose-to-nose with a line of marching ants. Tail lashing with interest at this new game, she followed the line of little insects along until they seemed to disappear into a hole in the ground.
A white paw shot out, disrupting the formulated marching of the soldiers, only for a hiss to erupt her maw a moment later. They tickled! And suddenly, she was under attack, the ants running amok up her leg and through her coat, itching and tickling despite her attempts to fling them off of her.
That felt like an eternity, even though it would surely be there before she knew it. Wistfully, an inquisitive green gaze combed the campground, looking for something to entertain her that early morning. After several heartbeats of examination, her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as she found her first game of the day. Lowering her body into a clumsy hunting crouch, she prowled closer to the movement she spotted until she was nose-to-nose with a line of marching ants. Tail lashing with interest at this new game, she followed the line of little insects along until they seemed to disappear into a hole in the ground.
A white paw shot out, disrupting the formulated marching of the soldiers, only for a hiss to erupt her maw a moment later. They tickled! And suddenly, she was under attack, the ants running amok up her leg and through her coat, itching and tickling despite her attempts to fling them off of her.