- Jan 1, 2023
- 313
- 182
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Chrysalispaw treaded through the undergrowth of leafage and knolls, the disturbed forest underfoot crooning with its sputtering song, as though it did not cry out but simply sing along with the footfall. As Chrys trained in stealth, he got better at making sure his paws did not snap at errant twigs or fall into prey tunnels. Still, his two-time steps were imperfect, and the foliage still whispered. He carried stale dung from a nearby abandoned fox den in one paw - apparently, whatever dog-fox had lain there had now left without nothing to remember it by. The stagnant yet rank stench still spread along the ends of the den, and he could still remember it even as the beast was nothing more than a supposition. He gagged at the scent of what he was holding and just made sure to hasten his step at the expense of his own secrecy.
He slithered through the camp as evening painted him in tangerine and tiger hues, bringing out the flashes of fire upon the canvas dipped in pitch varnish, as though splattered instead of flushed. The tom deposited his share of the dirt in an unfortunate warrior's nest, shaking his paw off while gagging even more. Gaze carved in jade and amber stared at the dung, which stood like a menacing bomb rooted into the ground, just waiting to explode and give some unfortunate cat the worst day of their life. He glanced at the open maw of the camp. The dusk patrol is going to come back any minute now...
"Uh, what good is this supposed to do anyways? Is it supposed to be funny or something?" He muttered to his compadre-in-crime Abattoirpaw, whiskers twitching as an electric disdain coursed through them. He cast a side-long glance at the kittypet-blooded cat. His mismatched glare burned into the stark-midnight of Abattoirpaw's coat, as though it aimed to pierce the very darkness, though even the brightest sun could not swathe through the oil-black sea. Though, Chrys was not perturbed - most of his pelt was that very nightly hue like a pocket hewed straight from twilight's hide. Chrys didn't even want to do this, but he was pestered into it by the weirdo of an apprentice. When did he even get here, anyways? I swear Blazestar just lets in anything that looks vaguely like a cat nowadays.
( Please wait for @abattoirpaw ! )
He slithered through the camp as evening painted him in tangerine and tiger hues, bringing out the flashes of fire upon the canvas dipped in pitch varnish, as though splattered instead of flushed. The tom deposited his share of the dirt in an unfortunate warrior's nest, shaking his paw off while gagging even more. Gaze carved in jade and amber stared at the dung, which stood like a menacing bomb rooted into the ground, just waiting to explode and give some unfortunate cat the worst day of their life. He glanced at the open maw of the camp. The dusk patrol is going to come back any minute now...
"Uh, what good is this supposed to do anyways? Is it supposed to be funny or something?" He muttered to his compadre-in-crime Abattoirpaw, whiskers twitching as an electric disdain coursed through them. He cast a side-long glance at the kittypet-blooded cat. His mismatched glare burned into the stark-midnight of Abattoirpaw's coat, as though it aimed to pierce the very darkness, though even the brightest sun could not swathe through the oil-black sea. Though, Chrys was not perturbed - most of his pelt was that very nightly hue like a pocket hewed straight from twilight's hide. Chrys didn't even want to do this, but he was pestered into it by the weirdo of an apprentice. When did he even get here, anyways? I swear Blazestar just lets in anything that looks vaguely like a cat nowadays.
( Please wait for @abattoirpaw ! )