- Jun 15, 2023
- 98
- 7
- 8
die with memories , not dreams .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
It’s time to head back. Someone called out, breaking Dawnstorm out of his concentrated stupor. He blinked several times, glancing down at his small catch comprising two small-sized fishes, barely able to feed a full-grown warrior, no less a growing kit.
The bi-colored male frowned, glancing at the others on this hunting expedition, noting how they appeared unbothered, but relieved to be returning to the warmth of camp that did little to settle his bundling nerves. “I’ll stay.” He voiced, glancing up. It wasn’t fair and no doubt his father would be disappointed in him for not bringing more. Nothing, but perfection. Something that Dawnstorm will never be with dual-toned hues and skills that remained lacking.
He breathed, watching the fog cloud around his frost-bitten muzzle, numb from the cold water that plugged his nose, outright terrifying him if he hadn’t prepared himself mentally. He huffed, expression narrowing. “I’ll return soon.” He added, glancing up at the others, tone deadpan. Really. He will return once he hunts an acceptable amount, even if he stays out here the entire night.
The ex-Ripple colonist shifted on numb haunches, peeking over the edge and into the frigid waters below, expression serious. Just a few more. He remained himself, lips puckered in harrowing determination. Enough to make Father proud. It reminded him of times before they joined RiverClan. When the other demanded he returned with the prey of various quantities, no matter how long it took to accomplish. It was tiring, chasing after rabbits faster than he’d like to admit and fish he could barely snatch between his teeth unless he risked getting water up his nose. Admittedly, Dawnstorm had that happen far more when he stuck his head into the water, waiting potentially until something grew curious of his gaping jaws.
Everything he knew, no less had been taught since birth was being ripped out from beneath him and that confused him more than anything. How could they be so … strange? Perhaps it was something that Dawnstorm wasn’t privy to.
Humming softly, Dawnstorm nudged the nose fish toward another. “Carry them.” Naturally, his tone was off, sounding like an order rather than a genuine question.
It was better to eat them fresh, in his opinion.
The bi-colored male frowned, glancing at the others on this hunting expedition, noting how they appeared unbothered, but relieved to be returning to the warmth of camp that did little to settle his bundling nerves. “I’ll stay.” He voiced, glancing up. It wasn’t fair and no doubt his father would be disappointed in him for not bringing more. Nothing, but perfection. Something that Dawnstorm will never be with dual-toned hues and skills that remained lacking.
He breathed, watching the fog cloud around his frost-bitten muzzle, numb from the cold water that plugged his nose, outright terrifying him if he hadn’t prepared himself mentally. He huffed, expression narrowing. “I’ll return soon.” He added, glancing up at the others, tone deadpan. Really. He will return once he hunts an acceptable amount, even if he stays out here the entire night.
The ex-Ripple colonist shifted on numb haunches, peeking over the edge and into the frigid waters below, expression serious. Just a few more. He remained himself, lips puckered in harrowing determination. Enough to make Father proud. It reminded him of times before they joined RiverClan. When the other demanded he returned with the prey of various quantities, no matter how long it took to accomplish. It was tiring, chasing after rabbits faster than he’d like to admit and fish he could barely snatch between his teeth unless he risked getting water up his nose. Admittedly, Dawnstorm had that happen far more when he stuck his head into the water, waiting potentially until something grew curious of his gaping jaws.
Everything he knew, no less had been taught since birth was being ripped out from beneath him and that confused him more than anything. How could they be so … strange? Perhaps it was something that Dawnstorm wasn’t privy to.
Humming softly, Dawnstorm nudged the nose fish toward another. “Carry them.” Naturally, his tone was off, sounding like an order rather than a genuine question.
It was better to eat them fresh, in his opinion.
thought speech