Quote:
Originally Posted by Owl
Just outside of the WindClan warrior's tunnel, a quite frazzled molly was grooming moss from her fur. Her pastel tan-colored, oddly marked fur was covered in pieces of moss and leaves that lined her nest. Her fur stood on end, not yet laying flat even though she ran her sand paper sharp tongue over it. The molly hadn't woken up when she was supposed to. She had enjoyed her slumber. She knew that from waking up to her tongue dry as a desert, hanging out of her mouth, her legs sprawled out pooling into Duskflight's nest. She was lucky the tom wasn't present and certainly hoped she didn't disturb his sleep. That would be very embarrassing.
The thought of the situation cause the molly to pause her grooming. Heat rose to her cheeks and slowly warmth spread across her body. The tom was easy on the eyes. However, since Crowheart...no she couldn't let herself think of her former best friend and source of her affection. She swallowed dryly before continuing her grooming. She wouldn't allow herself to think of him. If he saw her constantly mopping around, missing him, being depressed and unhappy, he'd be upset at her. The molly had to try and turn her life around somehow.
Windcrest had thought about a million different ways to say hello and to begin a conversation with Duskflight, but she never mustered up the courage. She didn't even know if Duskflight liked her even as a clan mate. She knew some WindClan cats eyed her because she wasn't clan born and felt like she didn't belong. She sometimes felt like an outsider. But she did her best to prove them wrong. She let out a sigh and her fur ruffled at her sudden exhale, Maybe today...I could finally say hello?
Windcrest was given morning patrol duty and yet here it was almost sunhigh. Her ears flattened at the thought of getting into trouble, though she half-heartedly wondered why no one woke her. With a frustrated whine the she-cat continued to work on her fur trying to look presentable. At the moment, she look like an newly appointed apprentice. She was nearly 31 moons old! Grumbling at herself, she finished up cleaning her fur the best she could. Finally satisfied with her pelt, she molly sat up. Her crystal blue eyes scored the moor top for any familiar faces that may have gone out on the morning patrol. I wonder if Duskflight went on the morning patrol...
@ Duskflight <3 |
The morning had been a pretty normal one so far, or at least that's what Duskflight felt. More normal than some of his previous mornings. He was just happy to be back in the clan, he had so desperately wanted to come back but had refrained, refrained right up until it nearly cost him his life. Of course things have settled since then. He hasn't seen Weaselcloud at all, maybe she had been killed, maybe she was banished, he didn't know, and despite his nature, he truly hoped that she was dead. It would be better that way, both for him and his clanmates. But he didn't have the guts nor the strength to do it himself if ever it came down to doing it.
Regardless, as the sun crawled to the midway point in the sky, the black and white tom settled himself down in the clearing, tucking his legs neatly beneath himself and laying his chin in his paws for the moment, eyes half-lidded and threatening to close. Even if the air had a bite to it, the sun was in full force and he couldn't be happier.
He had slept the majority of the night but in the earlier morning hours he was accidentally kicked awake by a cat next to him. The name of the cat was something like Windtuft, Windcrest, something along those lines. It hadn't bothered him in the slightest, but he did decide to get out of his nest and head out into the clearing.
It was then that he volunteered to go on the morning patrol in her place, since she wasn't awake yet and he didn't want anyone to be awoken from a good slumber when he was able to take their place. And so he went on that patrol. After the battle with Thunderclan the borders have been quiet, all of the clans except for Skyclan recuperating from their wounds. He himself had stayed back to protect the camp, though part of himself argues it was only because he was a coward. He still thought about it, even now, though for the most part he tried to push the thought away.
Sighing out happily, Duskflight would force himself to lift his head and start rasping his tongue over his chest fur, trying anything to keep himself away, at least for a little bit longer. He could take a nap later, he hasn't even gone hunting today! There was so much that needed to be done, especially with there being quite a few wounded cats that needed food before himself. As soon as I'm done grooming I'll go out hunting. His mind promised and he seemed to nod his head, agreeing to himself.