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Post by ☆ c e l e g r a on Jan 1, 2011 15:54:07 GMT -5
He sat near the den, ruminating. As he breathed in and out peacefully, his breath made a smoky cloud in the air. He knew if he stayed out long enough, he'd catch greencough, but he was caught in the essence of a dream. There was no hope of reviving the warrior, for he was drugged in his reverie. It was not like he had many Clanmates just lining up to converse with him, either.
Kitewing sighed, and shifted his position slightly, which offered him a better view of the camp. His daydream ended, he looked around for company. It was strangely silent; perhaps all the cats were huddled in their dens, or out hunting. The cream pointed tomcat didn't know and didn't' care. That was their own business; there was no use to pry. His experiences did have their uses, good or bad.
His shrewd blue eyes pierced the gloomy palpable air as they searched fruitlessly for something of interest. He was tempted to give up and go back to his state of half-consciousness, but something told him to keep on searching. It was too bad that there was no company, or at least a severe lack of it. Oh, c'mon he thought irritably. Just when I wake, the chatter disappears.
word count. 209 muse. severely lacking notes. n/a [/size]
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Post by moka217 on Jan 2, 2011 22:25:10 GMT -5
The Nightclan Deputy moved slowly through the white blanket that always covered the ground during leafbare. A slight sigh slipped from his lips as he said aloud, "Leafbare appears to be a harsh one this cycle." Lately when the orange tabby had went on his solo hunt, he would only be able to bring back a small mouse or shrewd. The sudden rustle instantly brought Twinklefire attention back down to earth.
Glancing to the bush, he opened his maw a bit and instantly caught the scent of a hare. A grin spread across the tom's maw as he dropped into his hunting crouch, plume was barely skimming the ground as he slowly stalked up to the bush. Moving around the bush, Twinklefire saw the hare not even twenty yards away. Noticing that he was upwind from his prey he couldn't help but think, 'It seems the clan shall have hare tonight.' He began inching closer until he was five yards from the hare. Suddenly he sprung and was on top and sinking his deadly ivories into the throat before the hare knew what had hit him.
Leaving the area with the hare in his mouth, the orange tabby headed to where he buried two mice. Dropping the hare, he dug up the mice and picked up all three items. Turning, his limbs began to carry him back towards the Nightclan camp, which was nestled among many pine trees and within a dark hallow. Coming to the only entrance, which was within the bramble and could easily be overlooked by one who knew not this territory, Twinklefire slipped inside and headed over to where the fresh kill pile was. It was quite small compared to how it was during newleaf. Dropping his kills he turned and head to the warriors' den.
His orange lanterns soon fell upon the cream-pelted tom. He smiled gently as he watched the younger warrior shift his position. Walking up beside the tom, he sat down on his haunches and said to him, "Good morning Kitewing." His orange lanterns shifted to the entrance as he waited for the dawn patrol to return with their report.
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Post by ☆ c e l e g r a on Jan 3, 2011 17:28:04 GMT -5
Kitewing was musing over his dilemma of deciding what to do when Twinklefire entered. For a moment the tom felt a hot flush of jealousy and anger, which quickly faded away to shame that he would think this way at all. The cream-and-white warrior never wanted to disrespect his highers, even when nobody could hear him. Too bad it almost never worked out. Hiding his expression from his deputy for a moment, Kitewing quickly composed himself and looked up. His blue eyes were still glittering faintly with an odd mix of hunger and ambition, but overall he looked fairly serene.
"Hullo," he greeted politely, dipping his head to Twinklefire. The other tomcat brought in the scents of outside from his hunt, and the cream point shivered slightly. "I wonder when this ugly weather is going to end," he added, flicking his tail toward the snow-covered ground outside of the den. "I mean, don't we get enough prey shortages already?" Twolegs never seemed to have a problem with poisoning the Carrionplace with their garbage and all that. Honestly, given all the extra things they had to deal with, Kitewing couldn't see why NightClan had such a bad rep with all the others. Go and try it yourself if you want to complain he wanted to say to each and every one of them. Then you'll see how much you're wrong.
"Gone hunting?" he added keenly, also smelling the faint scent of hare on his pelt. Just the thought of a hare in leaf-bare made the tomcat salivate. Perhaps he had less self-control than he thought; it was likely he would take something later, and have to pay with some hunting time for it. Kitewing sighed heavily, though inside he knew that he had nothing better to do. And anyways, even if he didn't eat any fresh-kill, he knew Twinklefire and Stormstar would still probably be after him, wanting him to feed the queens and elders and whoever else who couldn't catch their own food. Honestly, it irritated him. He let out a small huff, then turned his attention back to his deputy, expecting a response.
word count. 352 muse. better than before notes. n/a
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