Quote:
Originally Posted by hxneysuckle
[ @CheetahPelt ]
Slipping out into the territory, Stoatdance allowed her tail to sway from side to side. She sighed quietly, moving sluggishly. She had been restless the past few nights, unable to sleep as nightmares plagued her mind. It was so long ago... why am I still having these nightmares? A snarling dog, it's jaws clamping around her head. She shuddered at the thought.
Walking toward the river, she looked down into it, seeing her reflection. Her scar was clear. She didn't remember what it had been like to see with two eyes, to not have such a large scar on her face. Stoatdance shook her head and shoved away the thoughts. I've lived most of my life with this. I've proven myself to be a worthy warrior of RiverClan... I think. I have nothing to worry about.
She peered into the water, spotting a small flash of silver. It was surprising how the water hadn't frozen over yet, with how cold it had been. Her tail flicked and she waited... waited... now! Stoatdance's paw flashed into the water and she scooped up the fish, scaring all others away. A prideful purr rumbled in her throat as she gave the killing bite, then settled down by the river and allowed herself to relax, forcing all negative thoughts away and focusing on the beauty of the RiverClan land around her. |
Jasperspite walked out of camp, not caring to say anything to anyone, everyone had something to say about him anyways. He padded farther into the territory, not a place to go. Maybe he would go and catch some fish. Maybe he would find a cat to visit with. He settled on visiting as he caught a whiff of a she cat. He meandered towards her, slowly moving. He had a regal air about him, like a disgraced prince.
He spotted Stoatdance sitting by the edge of the river, and paused to watch her as she snatched the fish from the water. He had seen this she cat around camp, but he had never spoken to her before. He padded closer.
“Nice catch” A huge orange Tom slid from between the reeds. His eyes glimmered, one so dark it was almost black, and the other was a venomous green. He settled down between two knobby roots, cleaning his paws. “How’s it shakin, beautiful? How are the fish swimming?” His voice was smooth and youthful, but the Tom was hulking, strong, muscles bunching under his pelt as he moved and shifted.