- Apr 23, 2024
- 23
- 14
- 3
By the time Cygnet's Cry realized that his pawpads ached, he and his companion had already run far past the marshes. His hind legs still ached, so much so that a white-hot pain had pulsed through him from the ground-up, but he still ran. Like a hare with its life in its clutches, he ran. All he had known was to run, but this time, there existed little regret to imprison him to the earth.
Stopping to catch the breath that hitched within his throat, the nomad exhaled long drags of air, the vagrant's pants a mere rambling of the past that they had narrowly escaped. The ground below felt softer than that of the wetlands, as if the summer storms had loosened it up, vindicating it from whatever sin it could slough off. He glanced around the quiet lands, of which returned no call nor cry to him, and perhaps it had expected him. The rogue had traversed between these open lands, as the gangrel had flitted between the wildgrasses while returning to Shadowclan every half-moon, though this time it seemed as though the world had reposed into doldrums. It was almost... too serene, and he half-anticipated some sort of disaster to spring up at the very last moment. He had been, thankfully, let down in that prospect. Dawn peeked gently from the curtain of the horizon, as though a peregrine curiosity that strolled along the sky, a slow swim upon the endless sea of soon-to-be-blues. Stars now shied away from the youngling light, retreating into the recesses until it would surely show itself once more. Above him did the gracious moon grin, smiling down upon Cygnet's Cry and his fortunes. He knew that the moonglow would always return to guide him, and would always lead him to his saccharine salvation.
One gunmetal-grey eye turned towards @Valleysong , once-narrowed gaze now softened and rounder, as if the aberrance had pooled from the declining moon itself. He wondered if Valleysong missed Shadowclan already, and Cygnet's Cry would never blame him for doing so. To abandon one's kin, even for a greater good, is never easy. The nomad mused, attempting to gorge out some sorrow that might have dwelled within a stolid countenance or within hesitant footfall. "... Do you happen to know anywhere we can stay? I'm not the most familiar with these lands." Cygnet's Cry mewed to the half-toned tomcat, spirals of errant wind drifting along his flanks, resting upon his spine and playing at shorthaired purls. Even at night did summer's heat swelter at his sides, though the winds of the open area had surely cooled him down. "I'm sure there's an old badger or fox den somewhere." Whipping his silvery head around, he scanned along the open fields for any break in the thistles and hawthorns, any sort of respite for the twain travelers. If he still had a tail, it would surely sway along to the silent cadence of the wild.
( they're near the highstones / moonstone :3 )
Stopping to catch the breath that hitched within his throat, the nomad exhaled long drags of air, the vagrant's pants a mere rambling of the past that they had narrowly escaped. The ground below felt softer than that of the wetlands, as if the summer storms had loosened it up, vindicating it from whatever sin it could slough off. He glanced around the quiet lands, of which returned no call nor cry to him, and perhaps it had expected him. The rogue had traversed between these open lands, as the gangrel had flitted between the wildgrasses while returning to Shadowclan every half-moon, though this time it seemed as though the world had reposed into doldrums. It was almost... too serene, and he half-anticipated some sort of disaster to spring up at the very last moment. He had been, thankfully, let down in that prospect. Dawn peeked gently from the curtain of the horizon, as though a peregrine curiosity that strolled along the sky, a slow swim upon the endless sea of soon-to-be-blues. Stars now shied away from the youngling light, retreating into the recesses until it would surely show itself once more. Above him did the gracious moon grin, smiling down upon Cygnet's Cry and his fortunes. He knew that the moonglow would always return to guide him, and would always lead him to his saccharine salvation.
One gunmetal-grey eye turned towards @Valleysong , once-narrowed gaze now softened and rounder, as if the aberrance had pooled from the declining moon itself. He wondered if Valleysong missed Shadowclan already, and Cygnet's Cry would never blame him for doing so. To abandon one's kin, even for a greater good, is never easy. The nomad mused, attempting to gorge out some sorrow that might have dwelled within a stolid countenance or within hesitant footfall. "... Do you happen to know anywhere we can stay? I'm not the most familiar with these lands." Cygnet's Cry mewed to the half-toned tomcat, spirals of errant wind drifting along his flanks, resting upon his spine and playing at shorthaired purls. Even at night did summer's heat swelter at his sides, though the winds of the open area had surely cooled him down. "I'm sure there's an old badger or fox den somewhere." Whipping his silvery head around, he scanned along the open fields for any break in the thistles and hawthorns, any sort of respite for the twain travelers. If he still had a tail, it would surely sway along to the silent cadence of the wild.
( they're near the highstones / moonstone :3 )
