- Oct 17, 2022
- 74
- 4
- 8
bounceheart ✧ she/her ✧ riverclan warrior (=˃ᆺ˂=)
Things have changed.
If she had nothing else, there would be RiverClan. Their fate was outlined in the stars. As the moons crawled by, she stuck to her daily tasks. Fish. Patrol. Head count.. repeat. As of late, there had been a disruption in her routine. There was a dream that kept revisiting her. It was as though she was sleeping in the warriors' den, only to smell burning around her. There was heat, but it didn't burn- and she couldn't open her eyes. All she was left with, was total comfort. No fear. It was as though she was floating.
When she woke, the smoky smell lingered for just long enough to panic about a fire. Only, there never was any.
A huff was the only sign she gave of waking up. There was no burning den around her, and everyone was safe. In the distance, she could hear the usual sounds of the night - which was not much around here. After a moment of laying in the den, contemplating the meaning of whatever message she was presented with, it became obvious she would not be returning to sleep. So, she headed out to the camp. Above their heads, the skyline was beginning to glow as morning creeped upon them.
It was too early for a patrol, so she instead would find her way to the river to do some fishing. Over the past few months, she had really honed in on that skill. As the tabby sat on the water's edge, she waited for the slightest movement under the waters- and then she would strike. A sharp gasp could be heard as she emerged from the crisp waters, a fat trout flapping from her jaws. Overwhelmed by excitement, Bounceheart squealed as she struggled to pull it and herself from the waters. Last year, she could hardly catch a minnow. Now, she was fighting a trout for breakfast.
"You're mine, baby!"
Things have changed.
If she had nothing else, there would be RiverClan. Their fate was outlined in the stars. As the moons crawled by, she stuck to her daily tasks. Fish. Patrol. Head count.. repeat. As of late, there had been a disruption in her routine. There was a dream that kept revisiting her. It was as though she was sleeping in the warriors' den, only to smell burning around her. There was heat, but it didn't burn- and she couldn't open her eyes. All she was left with, was total comfort. No fear. It was as though she was floating.
When she woke, the smoky smell lingered for just long enough to panic about a fire. Only, there never was any.
A huff was the only sign she gave of waking up. There was no burning den around her, and everyone was safe. In the distance, she could hear the usual sounds of the night - which was not much around here. After a moment of laying in the den, contemplating the meaning of whatever message she was presented with, it became obvious she would not be returning to sleep. So, she headed out to the camp. Above their heads, the skyline was beginning to glow as morning creeped upon them.
It was too early for a patrol, so she instead would find her way to the river to do some fishing. Over the past few months, she had really honed in on that skill. As the tabby sat on the water's edge, she waited for the slightest movement under the waters- and then she would strike. A sharp gasp could be heard as she emerged from the crisp waters, a fat trout flapping from her jaws. Overwhelmed by excitement, Bounceheart squealed as she struggled to pull it and herself from the waters. Last year, she could hardly catch a minnow. Now, she was fighting a trout for breakfast.
"You're mine, baby!"