The clearing still, just a small glade in the hush of late-leaf bare night. The sky hanging above the pine trees was growing dawn, pale milky colours warding the black and the stars, along with purples and oranges near the horizon. From one of the dens emerged a softly coloured feline, placing his small paws thoughtfully into the quietude of the clearing. His side brushed against the lip of the den, and the cat gave a shiver. His breath fluttered skyward, and the chill proved to still be holding a firm grasp on the last traces of nighttime. The cat's eyes appeared vibrant, like the green of a meadow inside the dark blue hue of the forest that was created by the faint light above. His gaze drew from the clearing to the sky, taking in a breath of the crisp air and letting a smile inspire his lips. Serenity. And no motion of any other forest residents. Just the way he liked it.
Mumblehen crept his way through the clearing when his bones felt as use to the cold as they could get. His paw steps crunched and clattered the forest debris and thin snow, and he felt like an immense nuisance inside the calmness. He exited the camp comfortably, the little warrior not a sight or a sound in the eyes of his Clanmates. And once again, Mumblehen was free to roam in the face of the pine trees and stray amid the forest eaves. He wandered absently, his eyes awing the trees, the blue shadows, and the sky. What entirely made Mumblehen wake up so early in the morning was this. With the dawn, it brought stoicism inside the forest. The thought that he was the only thing stirring, in possibly the entire forest, brought swelling wonderment and gaiety inside him. Cats sleeping, voles and mice in their burrows, and no bird calls through the canopy. Simple stillness, and Mumblehen was the only one in it.
How blessed am I to be the first one to greet the pine trees.