C
crowcall
Guest
✧ CROWCALL ✧
Crowcall wasn't normally so outgoing as to accept the company of other cats when she went out hunting off-patrol. This was new for her. As soon as she left camp, she lifted her nose and parted her jaws to taste the air, catching scents of mouse and hare carried on a grassy breeze. They were upwind at the moment, a gentle breeze which carried the scents of the downhill moorlands straight towards them; Crowcall looked at the two cats who had elected to join her, only now realizing that she was expected to decide where they were to hunt that evening.
"Why don't we try near Outlook Rock?" She sounded only halfways confident in her choice. While she knew the moors quite well, she wasn't a moor-runner by training, and even worse, she was notably bad at standing up for her opinions once they came under scrutiny. Crowcall was much quicker to roll over if it meant that an argument could be avoided and an uncomfortable conversation could end, and so she only hoped she would go undisputed this time.
She had left camp just after sunset, when the world was trapped in that odd half-light that came from both the absence of a sun and the presence of its lingering, dying rays streaking across a rust and navy-colored sky. Leaf-fall had the days ending sooner. She didn't feel nearly as tired as she did at this time moons ago; a part of her felt like it still reasonably should have been sun-high, and yet here they were, on the precipice of dusk, hoping to catch a few critters before they returned to their dens for a peaceful night's sleep.
This type of light was best for her, anyway. Seeing in the darkness was what she had been trained to do, and oftentimes, the harsh and uninterrupted sunlight of the surface world had her squinting in discomfort more than she would like to admit.
@WEASELCLAW @Inkylotus
Crowcall wasn't normally so outgoing as to accept the company of other cats when she went out hunting off-patrol. This was new for her. As soon as she left camp, she lifted her nose and parted her jaws to taste the air, catching scents of mouse and hare carried on a grassy breeze. They were upwind at the moment, a gentle breeze which carried the scents of the downhill moorlands straight towards them; Crowcall looked at the two cats who had elected to join her, only now realizing that she was expected to decide where they were to hunt that evening.
"Why don't we try near Outlook Rock?" She sounded only halfways confident in her choice. While she knew the moors quite well, she wasn't a moor-runner by training, and even worse, she was notably bad at standing up for her opinions once they came under scrutiny. Crowcall was much quicker to roll over if it meant that an argument could be avoided and an uncomfortable conversation could end, and so she only hoped she would go undisputed this time.
She had left camp just after sunset, when the world was trapped in that odd half-light that came from both the absence of a sun and the presence of its lingering, dying rays streaking across a rust and navy-colored sky. Leaf-fall had the days ending sooner. She didn't feel nearly as tired as she did at this time moons ago; a part of her felt like it still reasonably should have been sun-high, and yet here they were, on the precipice of dusk, hoping to catch a few critters before they returned to their dens for a peaceful night's sleep.
This type of light was best for her, anyway. Seeing in the darkness was what she had been trained to do, and oftentimes, the harsh and uninterrupted sunlight of the surface world had her squinting in discomfort more than she would like to admit.
@WEASELCLAW @Inkylotus
windclan · she/her · penned by cuzn · tags