- Apr 30, 2023
- 224
- 93
- 28
Although it had initially felt like a misfortune on Thriftpaw’s part to have wound up among a small group of his peers at the sun-warmed pool, Thriftpaw reminds himself that he isn’t thinking like that anymore. He’s lucky to be in WindClan, and he is lucky to be here, watching his clanmates speak to one another with an ease that Thriftpaw has lost.
It is the sun-warmed pool itself that draws Thriftpaw’s attention. The clear water catches broken halos from the sun and throws them at Thriftpaw so harshly that it leaves a purple afterimage to be blinked from his eyes. It glitters, and despite the pain of watching it Thriftpaw is entranced. It brings about a feeling Thriftpaw hadn’t purposefully buried — a certain joy at seeing a leaf wavering against a breeze or the persistent shine of a beetle’s glossy outer wings. At once, Thriftpaw wants to play.
He lets the feeling carry him into a pounce. Thriftpaw’s first thought is that the water is warmer than he expected: the name makes a sense that Thriftpaw hadn’t even bothered to think about before. The next thought is that crosses through Thriftpaw’s mind is that he is a mousebrain. The water had splashed the whole of Thriftpaw’s front and plastered his thick fur flat to his paws, making them look almost comically small. Those who were unfortunate enough to be near to the edge of the pool were hardly spared a similar fate.
“Oh!” Thriftpaw gasps, guilt coloring his voice, “Whitepaw! I didn’t mean to, uh, to… You can splash me back so that it’s fair?”
@whitepaw
It is the sun-warmed pool itself that draws Thriftpaw’s attention. The clear water catches broken halos from the sun and throws them at Thriftpaw so harshly that it leaves a purple afterimage to be blinked from his eyes. It glitters, and despite the pain of watching it Thriftpaw is entranced. It brings about a feeling Thriftpaw hadn’t purposefully buried — a certain joy at seeing a leaf wavering against a breeze or the persistent shine of a beetle’s glossy outer wings. At once, Thriftpaw wants to play.
He lets the feeling carry him into a pounce. Thriftpaw’s first thought is that the water is warmer than he expected: the name makes a sense that Thriftpaw hadn’t even bothered to think about before. The next thought is that crosses through Thriftpaw’s mind is that he is a mousebrain. The water had splashed the whole of Thriftpaw’s front and plastered his thick fur flat to his paws, making them look almost comically small. Those who were unfortunate enough to be near to the edge of the pool were hardly spared a similar fate.
“Oh!” Thriftpaw gasps, guilt coloring his voice, “Whitepaw! I didn’t mean to, uh, to… You can splash me back so that it’s fair?”
@whitepaw
WINDCLAN APPRENTICE ✦ GOLDEN TABBY TOM ✦ 5 MOONS