- Jun 17, 2024
- 21
- 5
- 3
The woods are . . . well, not scary, he's not some mewling kit . . . but they're unsettling. The pines loom imposingly in the semi - distance, an unwelcome wall of stout trunks and heavy evergreen boughs. The darkness between them looms long and ominous, casting bleak black shadows that yawn towards him like claws set against the backlit sun. He takes a hesitant pawstep forward, than another—but he can't quite bring himself to break from the comfortable scrape of concrete underpaw. His heavy - set muzzle sets into a discontented grimace, nicked ear twitching.
It's hard—no, it's impossible to imagine her living in this shadowy forest. His bright, beautiful mate ( can he still call her that? He thinks he can ), all soft edges and forgiving fluff. He can't see her shadowed under those boughs, hunting and fighting and who knows what else. He'd had to do all the work during their brief stint in the wilderness, there's no way she's some kind of . . . what are they called . . . warrior. There's just no way—and yet, the kittypets he's semi - bullied into coughing up local gossip report yes, there's a tawny and white she - cat with green eyes who patrols that border.
( Real pretty, she was, one of the mouthier ones had remarked. Right before Duke cracked him across the nose. Damn, that had been satisfying. )
He's seriously debating turning back altogether when a clump of cats breaks free of the pines and begins to trek towards Twolegplace's edge. A strange gaggle, they are, all different pelts and voices, some of them wearing collars or bandannas, some of them not. Well, he can deal with this band of freaks if it means finding out who that deer - fluffy warrior in their ranks is—finding out if she's who he thinks she is, anyways.
( And how dare she? How dare she leave him behind, never mind that he left her? She should be looking for him. She should be back in his arms. )
" Hey, buddy, " he greets the first cat to reach him, their pelt redolent of a strange pine - spice. His rich voice is suffused with an easy openness that suggests camraderie. " I've got a problem I think you can help me out with. Do a guy a solid? "
It's hard—no, it's impossible to imagine her living in this shadowy forest. His bright, beautiful mate ( can he still call her that? He thinks he can ), all soft edges and forgiving fluff. He can't see her shadowed under those boughs, hunting and fighting and who knows what else. He'd had to do all the work during their brief stint in the wilderness, there's no way she's some kind of . . . what are they called . . . warrior. There's just no way—and yet, the kittypets he's semi - bullied into coughing up local gossip report yes, there's a tawny and white she - cat with green eyes who patrols that border.
( Real pretty, she was, one of the mouthier ones had remarked. Right before Duke cracked him across the nose. Damn, that had been satisfying. )
He's seriously debating turning back altogether when a clump of cats breaks free of the pines and begins to trek towards Twolegplace's edge. A strange gaggle, they are, all different pelts and voices, some of them wearing collars or bandannas, some of them not. Well, he can deal with this band of freaks if it means finding out who that deer - fluffy warrior in their ranks is—finding out if she's who he thinks she is, anyways.
( And how dare she? How dare she leave him behind, never mind that he left her? She should be looking for him. She should be back in his arms. )
" Hey, buddy, " he greets the first cat to reach him, their pelt redolent of a strange pine - spice. His rich voice is suffused with an easy openness that suggests camraderie. " I've got a problem I think you can help me out with. Do a guy a solid? "
OOC : Targeted towards SkyClan daylight warriors!✮