It's so fun, we're so good at telling lies [tagged]

Fleetfoot Avatar
Apr 30, 2020 2:52:47 GMT
----- FLEETFOOT -----
tag: // words: 216 // notes: ---
Little drips of congregated rain leaked from between the log beams making up the roofing of the camp area; a few hit Fleetfoot's nose, but she paid little mind to the sensation, completely absorbed in watching the moss grow in the cracks marring the wood. Cliffhopper said earlier that if you stayed really still, and didn't breathe, and didn't blink, you could see it grow when it rained. So far, the bunches here didn't seem to be sprouting spontaneously as promised, but that probably just meant she wasn't being quiet enough. Tensing in order to appear even more like an inanimate statuette, Fleetfoot resisted the ever-tempting urge to swish her tail in anticipation.

A mosquito whined near her ear, causing an itch to creep forth. Should she swat it? Would that offend the moss too much? The corner of her eye twitched with the need to blink, but she had to be vigilant! What if she missed the miraculous moment of growth so surely nearing?

The mosquito, despite all her internal willing, decided to perch rather annoyingly on her ear; against all her efforts, she flicked her ear to dispel it. Aw, drat," she exclaimed, blinking rapidly to refocus her eyes. The moment was gone.

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Larkspurpaw Avatar
May 4, 2020 4:10:18 GMT


The young tom in training traveled into the camp; weaving in through the flattened entrance way. The inky tom had dampened fur; wet droplets of water had sprinkled his pelt from a gentle shower that caught him while he was out hunting. Larkspurpaw had been practicing hunting again - or rather perfecting his hunting tactics.

The shadow shape had shifted silently through the undergrowth. He had spent some time in there; exploring and detecting gentle scents of nearby prey. He managed to catch two mice; round with bellies plumper than a peach. The soon-to-be warrior returned to camp, carrying the mice by their long skinny tails.

Making a beeline for the fresh-kill pile, he dropped the two mice down in the pile. The male erected his head up, watching as several clan cats mingled together, talking and sharing tongues. One feline stood out to him; an exotic, lanky feline with bright eyes. She looked unusually pretty. A gentle mutter came from the warrior, but he did not catch her words. As she was alone, Larkspurpaw approached with a gentle smile, "Hi there. I'm Larkspurpaw..." He tilt his head to one side; she was certainly formerly from MoorClan, "Fleetfrost..No, Fleetfoot, right?" He said, twitching his black ears.

deltra of gangnam style

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