- Dec 17, 2022
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˖ ׄ ׅ ⠀⠀ millhaven⠀⠀ ୨୧ ginger peeks atop featherings of heather, cold and blue with frost. the moorlands were pelted in swathes of ice, slickening the ground in semi - wet patches. applebite picks through the undergrowth with a huff, pointlessly ignoring the way her breath billows up around her short muzzle. the freshkill pile was ever - dwindling and still there is no luck to be found above ground. ever since the incident with hyacinthbreath — the name earns a derisive flick of her ear, even alone — the molly had found no fun being in camp. unless she had a nice, fat rabbit to flaunt before her clanmates with, she had little interest in milling about the thinning gorse. her paws itch, burn with energy and she has to move, lifting her chin to strut purposefully a couple strides away before promptly lowering her nose to a different patch. perhaps it’s futile now but still she stands, attempting to pry past the scent of dew and ice that covers these hills. back to the tunnels it is, then. but the air is so brisk, and the woman flicks a small ear, irritable in her isolation. she’d spent so much time underfoot, she was beginning to feel like a burrowing rabbit herself.
it’s then she hears it — voices, not too far away. she pops her head over an arching hill and there, a little further down the way, was a small group of windclanners. they seemed to have just as much luck as she had above ground, and though a glint of frustration passes over her face, it shifts quickly. her plumelike tail kinks back, splaying and warming the thinner fur along her spine in swathes of red, if only by a little bit, “ eek! it’s so chilly! “ comes her bubbly trill, riding on the tail end of a purr once close enough to be heard. the woman stops about a tail length away, popping her forearms out to stretch, lean muscles around her shoulders flexing beneath fuzzy white fur. gleaming emerald eyes remained fixed on them, crinkled at the edges by a blinding smile, “ wanna race? bet it’ll get us warmed up quick — ! “ she perks back up, giving her coat a slight shake to rid herself of the frost that dusts copper ends. if she couldn’t find any damned rabbit, at least she could make these poor fools eat her dust. small victories!
it’s then she hears it — voices, not too far away. she pops her head over an arching hill and there, a little further down the way, was a small group of windclanners. they seemed to have just as much luck as she had above ground, and though a glint of frustration passes over her face, it shifts quickly. her plumelike tail kinks back, splaying and warming the thinner fur along her spine in swathes of red, if only by a little bit, “ eek! it’s so chilly! “ comes her bubbly trill, riding on the tail end of a purr once close enough to be heard. the woman stops about a tail length away, popping her forearms out to stretch, lean muscles around her shoulders flexing beneath fuzzy white fur. gleaming emerald eyes remained fixed on them, crinkled at the edges by a blinding smile, “ wanna race? bet it’ll get us warmed up quick — ! “ she perks back up, giving her coat a slight shake to rid herself of the frost that dusts copper ends. if she couldn’t find any damned rabbit, at least she could make these poor fools eat her dust. small victories!
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APPLEBITE ; f. she / her : a small - framed, fuzzy red ticked tabby with high white & honeydew eyes. she is prim, delicate - featured with round, fluffy cheeks and long, curled whiskers.
− lesbian, fourty months old ; penned by antlers
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