muck [open]

Swanfeather Avatar
Jan 7, 2020 5:58:05 GMT
I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed, that love would never die
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Discontent with her earlier hunt, Swanfeather ventured out of camp without a parting glance to her clanmates. Her previous night of rest having been spent curling her tail over her nose to pretend sleep. Her eyes staring upward to what little starlight she could see. Any attempts at sleep were stolen away by a variety of reasons. The most condemning to her wish for rest were the nightmares. 

The sound of Lioncall crying for help, continuing to burrow deep into her memories. Refusing to let her find peace. Her night of tossing and turning turned to a poor morning. Her earlier hunting yielding only a small minnow. Not worth the energy spent to get it. After taking a moment to reconcile with herself enough to go at it again. She did

This hunting trip to the sodden marsh would hopefully reap more benefits. Determined as ever to return with something bigger then a minnow, Swanfeather carefully prodded nooks for any sign of life. She wavered only slight when deceiving piece of earth gave way to an almost bog like creation. A forepaw now soaked to the upper leg now soaked with mud and water. Swanfeather eyes narrowed. Glaring downward at hole from wince she pulled her leg from. Further annoyed when a bubble of air burst forth, spraying her face with muck. Swanfeather barely held back her yowl in anger, knowing that if it was released any nearby prey would scatter. 

Deciding this particular section of the sodden marsh was no good to her, Swanfeather ventured in deeper. Ears trained for coming felines or the long awaited sound of prey. 

40 Moons

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