- Oct 15, 2023
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☾ Important note; This is a Windclan only thread but takes place in the Sandy Hollow during nightfall. Acting as sort of an intro for Harbingermoon.
Marching through the sandy hollow Harbingermoon made haste to drop the measly rabbit to the grounds below. When looking down a wave of nostalgia took hold. Not too long ago, the colonies had unified into clans, and Harbingermoon, once named Hal, had been cast aside by the Marsh Colony for siding with the enemy. In a similar view at the time he had been looking down at his mismatched paws while being escorted from all he had known.
Patience and vengeance had been his ally, as it rewarded him with access to a new part of the former colonies' territories. A place where no cat recognized him and a good little corner of the world to sit and wait for the right moment. During that period, his coal-black coat had developed small white patches with crafty, asymmetrical edges, giving the broad feline an intriguing and formidable appearance. When in reality he was quite scrawny beneath all the fluff.
Taken under the wing of WindClan's former leader, he had served then and now diligently as a tunneler, maintaining a low profile and staying proactive in the realm of warriors. Due to his reserved nature, he had few friends, but his polite facade had its advantages. Many clanmates would offer a passing greeting or request his assistance with more laborious tasks.
His lithe frame in a clan filled with other small cats boosted his ego. Yet, despite his self-serving thoughts and fraudulent emotions, he managed to maintain a neutral presence, moving through the routines of clan life day in and day out. Of course, he slipped out of the territory now and then to quench his curiosity, but with their current circumstances, restlessness had crept in. It seemed that the ever-evolving tomcat was nearing the time to cross borders and seek refuge elsewhere.
Ironically, he had contemplated that desire many times over the past few moons. Each time, he had suppressed the interrupting thoughts. Calming his itch for change with the reminder that the opportunity was approaching.
Finally, he had made inroads with the Moor Queen's kin, slowly integrating himself and maintaining a composed demeanor when seen. A small wolfish grin curled on the rounded cat's face, eager orange eyes gleaming as he carefully sliced the small rabbit into pieces. Using a single black claw for the job, and intending to share the scraps with the less fortunate cats. ☽
Marching through the sandy hollow Harbingermoon made haste to drop the measly rabbit to the grounds below. When looking down a wave of nostalgia took hold. Not too long ago, the colonies had unified into clans, and Harbingermoon, once named Hal, had been cast aside by the Marsh Colony for siding with the enemy. In a similar view at the time he had been looking down at his mismatched paws while being escorted from all he had known.
Patience and vengeance had been his ally, as it rewarded him with access to a new part of the former colonies' territories. A place where no cat recognized him and a good little corner of the world to sit and wait for the right moment. During that period, his coal-black coat had developed small white patches with crafty, asymmetrical edges, giving the broad feline an intriguing and formidable appearance. When in reality he was quite scrawny beneath all the fluff.
Taken under the wing of WindClan's former leader, he had served then and now diligently as a tunneler, maintaining a low profile and staying proactive in the realm of warriors. Due to his reserved nature, he had few friends, but his polite facade had its advantages. Many clanmates would offer a passing greeting or request his assistance with more laborious tasks.
His lithe frame in a clan filled with other small cats boosted his ego. Yet, despite his self-serving thoughts and fraudulent emotions, he managed to maintain a neutral presence, moving through the routines of clan life day in and day out. Of course, he slipped out of the territory now and then to quench his curiosity, but with their current circumstances, restlessness had crept in. It seemed that the ever-evolving tomcat was nearing the time to cross borders and seek refuge elsewhere.
Ironically, he had contemplated that desire many times over the past few moons. Each time, he had suppressed the interrupting thoughts. Calming his itch for change with the reminder that the opportunity was approaching.
Finally, he had made inroads with the Moor Queen's kin, slowly integrating himself and maintaining a composed demeanor when seen. A small wolfish grin curled on the rounded cat's face, eager orange eyes gleaming as he carefully sliced the small rabbit into pieces. Using a single black claw for the job, and intending to share the scraps with the less fortunate cats. ☽
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