look alive, sunshine (open)

Jan 10, 2020 22:12:10 GMT

200+ Words


to fight the hoard and sing


It was another day. Another chance for more things to happen that never seemed to. Rookshade was alone, crawling out of his nest for the morning's light. He had nothing to do in particular outside of hunting and patrolling, but he enjoyed the peace that came with the sun rise. Not many cats were up and about, and the ones that passed him went directly to their dens anyway. He was at least safe from their nagging questions.

He stretched, his back arching as a low yawn escaped his jaws. He didn't need to look behind him to notice nobody followed him outside. Not many wanted his company anyway. He couldn't blame them - no matter how hard he tried to get along with his Clanmates, he always ended up saying the wrong thing. Or maybe not saying the right thing. Either way, he was alone. For the moment. No doubt a cat passing would greet him. Clan cats were like that; always yapping about something. Be it petty gossip to patrol schedule. 

Meanwhile, he was just waiting for the day to begin. Staring off into the depths of the camp, he tried to position himself comfortably on the ground while he waited. MoorClan was still abuzz with energy, but he didn't see any warriors handing out orders. Certainly not the deputy or leader. They were probably outside or sleeping anyway. He couldn't blame them for this. He didn't walk forward; instead, Rookshade stayed where he was. By the dens, not moving to the fresh kill or assuming he wasn't needed somewhere. He couldn't eat until he did his job, but he couldn't do his job until he was given orders.

What a paradox.


cedarsong Avatar
Jan 13, 2020 19:06:15 GMT
you've got something i need and in this world of people,
there's one's killing me and if we only die once
[attr="class","bandittext"]It was not uncommon to see the twisted form that was Cedarsong awake this early in the morning. Nightmares usually plagued her dreams and she found herself growing more and more wary of those around her. When her clanmates did provide tolerable company - the few that she chose to associate herself with anyway - her mood was often sullied because their suggestions of ways to pass the time encompassed sparring and hunting. She would usually cast an angry glare back at the mangled leg that dragged along uselessly behind her and would shoo them off before they noticed with encouraging words of luck and that she would be around later when they wanted to catch up.

Her leg was useless in the sense that she couldn’t lift it off the ground. It dragged uselessly behind her and ruined every attempt she made at hunting. She’d been a formidable sparring partner until her injury left her unbalanced and with a wound that slowed her down and made her graceless and an open target. Try as she might, she pushed herself to her limit and often found herself in Skywhisper’s den for many days after until it was at the medicine cat’s request that she be made an elder for her own safety. A once proud she-cat who held her head high, she now spent all of her time hidden in the elder’s den when the warriors were awake. The only time she bothered coming out was now, before most of her clanmates awakened.

So she’d been admittedly surprised and a little apprehensive when she saw Rookshade sitting in the center of camp. She knew him being up meant that others were soon to follow but the elder’s den was dark and cold and rather lonely with not many others inside of it. Instead, she decided, she’d make an attempt to bring herself slowly back into the warrior life - whether Spiritstar and Skywhisper agreed or not. The proud feline did everything within her power to hide her limp as she approached, offering a dip of her head a smile to the warrior. “Hello, Rookshade. How are you this morning?” She asked politely as she approached.

364 | @rookshade

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