T
twilightpaw
Guest
BUT MY PLANS ALWAYS CHANGING ⋆⁺₊⋆
Days pass, over and over, and it's always the same old motions - hunting, training, patrolling, as if there's nothing new remaining under the sun. Scattered conversations thrown in, plenty of meaningless little interactions every day, and Twilightpaw simply follows along, no real desire to make any sort of waves. It's all the same to him, really, just a means to an end, and so he continues to entertain such a monotonous reality without protest. Lacking any sort of drive, he's content to simply drift about from task to task, often accomplishing only just more than the bare minimum so that he can continue to coast along to wherever life takes him. He's found himself retreating from the company of his clanmates, preferring to remain on the sidelines as an onlooker rather than an active participant even in his own life, though with the change in weather the cold has seemed to wake him up a bit, in a manner of speaking. While it's nothing concrete, Twilightpaw has found that he's been feeling a bit less languid these past few days, closer to how he had felt back when he was still a kit. Barring anything else, it's a start, and this new sort of clarity is nothing unwelcome to the apprentice.
Lately, prey has been scarcer than usual, and so more often than not he's found himself assigned to hunting patrols, having to go out and skulk through the marsh only to too often return empty-pawed. Despite appearances, Twilightpaw isn't intentionally missing his catches - rather, lack of experience, no motivation to really thrive, and slim pickings have all created the perfect storm to thwart even his semi-earnest attempts. It would be disheartening to another cat, he thinks, to utterly fail so often, but he takes it in stride, just as he takes everything else in stride - with the same breezy attitude and no real growth with respect to his shortcomings. Luckily enough, he hasn't been assigned to hunt today, instead being tasked with shoring up some of the nests in the nursery with some extra moss to help protect against the cold of leaf-bare. The cold chills him down to the bone, scruffy pelt not quite adapted to the temperature, and Twilightpaw is quicker than usual in gathering just enough moss from outside the confines of camp so that he can at least escape the wind sitting half-way into the nursery. He works slowly, focusing as much on fixing the nests as he does watching other cats move about camp, heading out or coming home. It's interesting, seeing how others spend their time, though sometimes when his gaze passes over a group enjoying one another's company the apprentice feels a strange ache within, always spurring him to move onto something else instead.
Days pass, over and over, and it's always the same old motions - hunting, training, patrolling, as if there's nothing new remaining under the sun. Scattered conversations thrown in, plenty of meaningless little interactions every day, and Twilightpaw simply follows along, no real desire to make any sort of waves. It's all the same to him, really, just a means to an end, and so he continues to entertain such a monotonous reality without protest. Lacking any sort of drive, he's content to simply drift about from task to task, often accomplishing only just more than the bare minimum so that he can continue to coast along to wherever life takes him. He's found himself retreating from the company of his clanmates, preferring to remain on the sidelines as an onlooker rather than an active participant even in his own life, though with the change in weather the cold has seemed to wake him up a bit, in a manner of speaking. While it's nothing concrete, Twilightpaw has found that he's been feeling a bit less languid these past few days, closer to how he had felt back when he was still a kit. Barring anything else, it's a start, and this new sort of clarity is nothing unwelcome to the apprentice.
Lately, prey has been scarcer than usual, and so more often than not he's found himself assigned to hunting patrols, having to go out and skulk through the marsh only to too often return empty-pawed. Despite appearances, Twilightpaw isn't intentionally missing his catches - rather, lack of experience, no motivation to really thrive, and slim pickings have all created the perfect storm to thwart even his semi-earnest attempts. It would be disheartening to another cat, he thinks, to utterly fail so often, but he takes it in stride, just as he takes everything else in stride - with the same breezy attitude and no real growth with respect to his shortcomings. Luckily enough, he hasn't been assigned to hunt today, instead being tasked with shoring up some of the nests in the nursery with some extra moss to help protect against the cold of leaf-bare. The cold chills him down to the bone, scruffy pelt not quite adapted to the temperature, and Twilightpaw is quicker than usual in gathering just enough moss from outside the confines of camp so that he can at least escape the wind sitting half-way into the nursery. He works slowly, focusing as much on fixing the nests as he does watching other cats move about camp, heading out or coming home. It's interesting, seeing how others spend their time, though sometimes when his gaze passes over a group enjoying one another's company the apprentice feels a strange ache within, always spurring him to move onto something else instead.
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