- Dec 18, 2023
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In a world so rife with half-truths and guile, certainty makes for a precious rarity. Yet, there is one statement with which ThunderClan's cast will confidently bestow their collective agreement: the stars had given Strawfrolic a mouth, and by their heavenly grace, did the tom ever use it.
♫ Had I a wish, oh StarClan sent: Greenleaf's warmth would never, ever end ♫
Harmonies, melodies, limericks, and love poems—a whisker's whim could incite song from his ever-ready lips, acquiring hearts and reproachful frowns in equal measure. While he cannot boast the keen nose of Berryheart, or of Flycatcher's well-adjusted wits, Strawfrolic may own himself a claim to greatness when it came to song. Greatness, after all, is found in the eyes and ears of the beholder, and personal preferences notwithstanding, his clanmates were bound to listen.
♫ This snow's a bother, I'm afraid—let Newleaf sing, and bid it fade! Let the ground warm, and let rain fall—just remember the song that caused it alllllll. ♫
Life holds ups and downs aplenty, hills and valleys left uncrossed—the climb and the drop each a tale and half unto itself—but song makes it all the simpler and easier to navigate. Strawfrolic chose to make his joys resonant, his displeasures just as strong, his yearning a shared experience, his boredom a kinship. All cats dance to their own tunes. He merely sang his out loud.
The dawn patrol winds down, and its members pool into the forest clearing. Strawfrolic knows better than to disrupt when there's prey to be caught or scents to mark(a tough-earned wisdom), so only when camp comes into view does song find his voice. Those bearing fresh-kill wander off to the pile, but the three-limbed warrior tarries near the entrance. Another ditty plays on his breath, put forth in a hushed croon:
♫ Will the cold take my ears this Leaf-bare? ♫
Just then, a violent shiver. From nose to tail-tip, his body seizes, prompting a musical stutter. "Probably, he mutters, a petulant frown all-too apparent in his golden features. His claws extend as muscles tense, trying as one to cope with the chill.
♫ Had I a wish, oh StarClan sent: Greenleaf's warmth would never, ever end ♫
Harmonies, melodies, limericks, and love poems—a whisker's whim could incite song from his ever-ready lips, acquiring hearts and reproachful frowns in equal measure. While he cannot boast the keen nose of Berryheart, or of Flycatcher's well-adjusted wits, Strawfrolic may own himself a claim to greatness when it came to song. Greatness, after all, is found in the eyes and ears of the beholder, and personal preferences notwithstanding, his clanmates were bound to listen.
♫ This snow's a bother, I'm afraid—let Newleaf sing, and bid it fade! Let the ground warm, and let rain fall—just remember the song that caused it alllllll. ♫
Life holds ups and downs aplenty, hills and valleys left uncrossed—the climb and the drop each a tale and half unto itself—but song makes it all the simpler and easier to navigate. Strawfrolic chose to make his joys resonant, his displeasures just as strong, his yearning a shared experience, his boredom a kinship. All cats dance to their own tunes. He merely sang his out loud.
The dawn patrol winds down, and its members pool into the forest clearing. Strawfrolic knows better than to disrupt when there's prey to be caught or scents to mark(a tough-earned wisdom), so only when camp comes into view does song find his voice. Those bearing fresh-kill wander off to the pile, but the three-limbed warrior tarries near the entrance. Another ditty plays on his breath, put forth in a hushed croon:
♫ Will the cold take my ears this Leaf-bare? ♫
Just then, a violent shiver. From nose to tail-tip, his body seizes, prompting a musical stutter. "Probably, he mutters, a petulant frown all-too apparent in his golden features. His claws extend as muscles tense, trying as one to cope with the chill.
