- Jul 23, 2024
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A stunning sky painted pale blue graduated to a fiery orange that surrounded the setting sun, projecting a picturesque conclusion of a busy day. Training, ranging from sparring to hunting to checking borders, had Buckfire dog-tired. His lively demeanor had simmered down to a mellow, relaxed state as he and his mentor reclined upon Outlook Rock. A couple of prey pieces rest at their paws; Scorchstorm had caught more, but nonetheless they had both secured a sufficient amount of food.
Breaking the birdsong-filled tranquility, the former loner starts, "Soo..." Exactly how Buckfire got to thinking about this particular subject remained a mystery, but the next words out of the brown tabby's maw would likely come as a surprise to Scorchstorm, "D'you have a special someone?" Social buzz of a certain pairing—Pink-something and Feathershine?—had made the rounds in camp. It had certainly made him think about his own situation — single and content. Sure, there were a lot of good-looking cats in WindClan, but Buckfire wouldn't say he was necessarily pursuing a relationship.
Scorchstorm on the other paw, well, he wouldn't be surprised if she had a little baby bird or a brawny, strapping lion to call hers. Not that he would expect her to necessarily be the type of feline to publicize her affections. "C'mon, you must have cats left 'n right followin' you like lost pups." From a purely platonic ( if one could even call them that ) standpoint, Buckfire could say that Scorchstorm was conventionally beautiful underneath those jagged scars of hers. Her mother certainly was. That woman possessed some mighty strong genes, that was for sure.
Breaking the birdsong-filled tranquility, the former loner starts, "Soo..." Exactly how Buckfire got to thinking about this particular subject remained a mystery, but the next words out of the brown tabby's maw would likely come as a surprise to Scorchstorm, "D'you have a special someone?" Social buzz of a certain pairing—Pink-something and Feathershine?—had made the rounds in camp. It had certainly made him think about his own situation — single and content. Sure, there were a lot of good-looking cats in WindClan, but Buckfire wouldn't say he was necessarily pursuing a relationship.
Scorchstorm on the other paw, well, he wouldn't be surprised if she had a little baby bird or a brawny, strapping lion to call hers. Not that he would expect her to necessarily be the type of feline to publicize her affections. "C'mon, you must have cats left 'n right followin' you like lost pups." From a purely platonic ( if one could even call them that ) standpoint, Buckfire could say that Scorchstorm was conventionally beautiful underneath those jagged scars of hers. Her mother certainly was. That woman possessed some mighty strong genes, that was for sure.
