- Jun 7, 2022
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A splash of brown can be seen just between the trees this morning as a young lark flits from branch to branch, trying out his wings in the warm spring air. It’s clear skies today, no sign of rain or snow or any other type of weather, perfect for crying out loudly in search of a mate. The lark trills and chirps unknowing that a whole camp of cats is about to awaken to the sound of his call. When they do, he begins to mimic, to imitate the sounds and pitches of their voices, as if to say he knows he is untouchable right now for if any of them tried climbing up his tree he would simply just fly away.
Little Wolf is one of the cats who awakens to the birds screeching. Usually she quite liked the sound of bird song but usually it was not this loud, not this close to camp. She pads out of the nursery and her green eyes find the creature darting from branch to branch in the trees above the ravine they called home. "Maybe we could throw a moss ball or something at it" she grumbles, irritated at being woken up so early by a bird of all things. The bird, in response, imitates her. Mocking. Great.