- Dec 17, 2022
- 680
- 374
- 63
The last that Sunstride had thought of storms, the snow had swept nearly to his ears. He knew them for their cold, for the impenetrable veil of white that they would paint before one's very eyes. He did not know them for their rains. It had rained, of course– and he had known what it felt like, to be horrifically soaked. But more often than not, it had been by foolish choice. He had dared himself alongside his dear friend, to see how long they could remain without icy waters turning their lungs to blocks of ice. What pelts upon him now...it is nearly hot. The thick mane around his neck has been slicked to his spine, from ears to tail-tip he is wet and weary. It had pelted down upon them rapidly and without hesitation, yet without the intensity it would take to force them into shelter. Not that there was much to be found within this territory regardless. They suffered beneath the stars, as they did everything else.
His paws are cracked beneath the softened skin. They are uncomfortable in their squish against equally drenched ground. He had hoped that it would not take so long for them to find their way home, yet there is still some distance to go as Sunstride, the great lead warrior that he is, sinks beneath the first layer of mud. It had been too well hidden within the moorland grass, and he pulls his leg from it with a grimace and a wet, slimy sound. He shakes the paw with ears turned back. It is not intentional, though perhaps grandly amusing, that the splotch of mud he flings from his own fur would be directed all too wholly towards @Adderpaw.
His paws are cracked beneath the softened skin. They are uncomfortable in their squish against equally drenched ground. He had hoped that it would not take so long for them to find their way home, yet there is still some distance to go as Sunstride, the great lead warrior that he is, sinks beneath the first layer of mud. It had been too well hidden within the moorland grass, and he pulls his leg from it with a grimace and a wet, slimy sound. He shakes the paw with ears turned back. It is not intentional, though perhaps grandly amusing, that the splotch of mud he flings from his own fur would be directed all too wholly towards @Adderpaw.
- ooc: surprise apprentice mud bath tag!
-
SUNSTRIDE. named for his coloration and his bold chasing of fate.
—— cis male, he - him. thirty-six moons old. lead warrior of windclan and former rogue.
—— gay, but somewhat closeted. will not be open about his interests. single, will be so.
—— seems comparatively stranger than who he was some moons ago, serious and cool.
sunstride is broad and bold– a creature standing above most of windclan, though not a beast beyond its borders, with fur that flames red at its base and deepens to a burnt amber with every whorl and stripe. his eyes, in comparison, are a pale summer's blue, still as bold as the rest of him. - "speech"