- Aug 14, 2023
- 58
- 9
- 8
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The marshland was a place of peace and beauty for Skunktail, except in the harsh leafbare times. Here it was bleak and hostile, the thick layers of fog and deep water made it hard to see, yet the biting wind could be felt everywhere. The cold was nearly unbearable, yet the life within the swamp still carried on, as if they had no choice. Like them. Like how ShadowClan had no choice. Though it was easy to get lost amidst the thick brush, Skunktail knew every inch of the area, he had been born and raised here and knew nothing else. The striped tom took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the rich scent of the earth and fog. It was out on the territory where Skunktail could forget the trials and struggles of ShadowClan for a moment and simply exist but his brief moment of respite did not last long when a foreign scent drifted through the air and reached him. The border was not far from where he stood and his spearmint green eyes narrowed in thought, it was certainly no clan patrol this close to the Thunderpath - the only clans who wandered near their territory at all were WindClan and ThunderClan and this had not a note of either present, it was a strangely familiy scent but in the way it reminded him of something rather than hold any familiarity. The black and white time stifled a groan of annoyance and made his way over, approaching cautiously as he was alone on this outing and didn't want to risk being leapt upon by a predator.
What he sees on the border catches him more by surprise than anything he could have possibly expected. Three cats, young but not apprentice aged from the looks of it, stand before him.
The first he sees has an eerily similar appearance to an old friend from the days before the clans, but eyes like moss over stone. The taller of them a sleek brown tom is riddled in scars but has gentle amber eyes, the other next to him is almost rusted with his dark brown and black colors and also has the same color eyes. Its those eyes he can't help but stare at, his own widening as he tries to compose himself; it was like gazing into the past, the reflection of a cat he once saw staring back at him with trust and companionship so many moons before that it feels like a lifetime. He knows those eyes, he feels, but it has been such a long time that he can't put a paw on it despite his efforts. Instead he clears his throat, "...who are all of you? Why are you here at ShadowClan's territory?" They seemed to know just enough about the clans to not trespass directly, but he knows he's never seen them before.
The marshland was a place of peace and beauty for Skunktail, except in the harsh leafbare times. Here it was bleak and hostile, the thick layers of fog and deep water made it hard to see, yet the biting wind could be felt everywhere. The cold was nearly unbearable, yet the life within the swamp still carried on, as if they had no choice. Like them. Like how ShadowClan had no choice. Though it was easy to get lost amidst the thick brush, Skunktail knew every inch of the area, he had been born and raised here and knew nothing else. The striped tom took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the rich scent of the earth and fog. It was out on the territory where Skunktail could forget the trials and struggles of ShadowClan for a moment and simply exist but his brief moment of respite did not last long when a foreign scent drifted through the air and reached him. The border was not far from where he stood and his spearmint green eyes narrowed in thought, it was certainly no clan patrol this close to the Thunderpath - the only clans who wandered near their territory at all were WindClan and ThunderClan and this had not a note of either present, it was a strangely familiy scent but in the way it reminded him of something rather than hold any familiarity. The black and white time stifled a groan of annoyance and made his way over, approaching cautiously as he was alone on this outing and didn't want to risk being leapt upon by a predator.
What he sees on the border catches him more by surprise than anything he could have possibly expected. Three cats, young but not apprentice aged from the looks of it, stand before him.
The first he sees has an eerily similar appearance to an old friend from the days before the clans, but eyes like moss over stone. The taller of them a sleek brown tom is riddled in scars but has gentle amber eyes, the other next to him is almost rusted with his dark brown and black colors and also has the same color eyes. Its those eyes he can't help but stare at, his own widening as he tries to compose himself; it was like gazing into the past, the reflection of a cat he once saw staring back at him with trust and companionship so many moons before that it feels like a lifetime. He knows those eyes, he feels, but it has been such a long time that he can't put a paw on it despite his efforts. Instead he clears his throat, "...who are all of you? Why are you here at ShadowClan's territory?" They seemed to know just enough about the clans to not trespass directly, but he knows he's never seen them before.