- Nov 22, 2023
- 212
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The hills come into view and then dip right out of it in quick succession; a byproduct of the pace Dimmingsun has set for himself and Featherspine. No tension or thrill settles over them, not when the winner of the self-proclaimed race has been decided before it even began, thanks to Featherspine's excellent capabilities. It had been a call for action not out of a need to win — Dimmingsun's strength lies in his muscles, not in his speed — but rather for something simpler.
Fast-passing breeze caught in fur is a bliss to WindClanners; one of the many things that set them apart from the rest.
Featherspine is enough of a pleasant company for Dimmingsun. He had been satisfied with the opportunity to invite her out, to stretch their limbs without anybody else around. That ever-present scowl might not vanish anytime soon, as far as Dimmingsun's concerned, but that does not mean he can't keep trying.
Sparse lines of trees pass by them, an obvious indicator of their location. In the heart of the moors, the only shadow present is by the occasional big puff of cloud — never by foliage or whistling branches. Dimmingsun intends to pay them no mind, to let them fall behind their backs and eventually vanish into the near distance, but...
Squelch!
A gross, wet sound forces Dimmingsun to hit the brakes. His golden fur all but disappears within a cloud of dust that he kicks up... and when the wind blows it away, he is left staring at his own paws.
"Oh, great," comes the murmur; voice suggesting no amount of actual annoyance. The soft pawpads are covered in freshly-pressed juices, and it only takes one keen eye to find the culprit: the unassuming berry bush. "I'll be spreading a blood trail everywhere I go now. Maybe we should make that into a thing... bright reds all around our borders."
