STRANGE HOW HARD IT RAINS [snowy]

There was an oppressive atmosphere in the air today. Hanging heavy around the forest and as thick as the cloud cover that stretched far into the horizon beyond the territories. With the arrival of the new-leaf warmth, the weather seemed to be taking more and more turns for the worst. Though the rain that was sweeping into the area was little more than a whimper compared to the storms that green-leaf would likely bring, it was usually enough to make most scatter for the nearest shelter. The longer the clouds blotched out the sky, the more depressing the world seemed to become as well. The new-sprouts on the trees and the brush of the earth, only yesterday alive and vibrant in color, now seemed to hang limply from their branches. The orchestra of the forest, the crickets and songbirds and tree frogs, seemed to be muted. Almost as though it was holding its breath in anticipation for the moment the heavens decided to open up and drench the world in water. The temperature at least was an even, comfortable one, and would be for the duration of the rainstorm. Thankfully the electric crackle of lightning and the roar of thunder would still be a ways off still the days of green-leaf, only the slightest chance that the soothing breeze that tickled through the leaves and chilled her pelt could pick up.

Hardly enough to frighten Sharpfrost back to camp.

The femme's paws could have followed the well worm pathways by memory alone if she so wished. Even in the strange and greyed light of the hidden sun, and the changes that came with the switch of seasons, she knew this territory inside and out and all their secrets. She knew of the way the ferns grew that much faster when they were closest to the shoreline of the river. Of the way the oaks swayed in the northern winds, signaling the coming of leaf-bare. And she knew of how the river would react when the rains finally decided to descend. For a few hours, the river would swell and fishing would be easier. For her at least. She'd been awaiting this moment since the first signs of new-leaf had arrived to the forest. Sharpfrost was arguably one of the best fighters in the Clan, but everyone knew her hunting techniques left much to be desired. In the pursuit of feeding her Clan, she was willing to use any cheat she could and this was one of her best. Go out before the rain hit, dig a few shallow holes in the shoreline just to where the river might swell, and then return when the river falls back to normal and see if a fish was unlucky enough to end up trapped. Using this technique, Sharpfrost had met with mild success. Sometimes the river didn't swell far enough to reach her holes, and sometimes it would swell too much and destroy her hard work completely. It was a gamble, but the rewards - if StarClan saw fit to gift them - were enough to fill a few empty bellies back at camp.

A low hum tickled at the back of Sharpfrost's throat as she felt the earth turn to silt beneath her paws. The signal that she had arrived at the shoreline. Here, the silver and white tabby took a pause, glancing around the area before her with a critical eye. This part of the river was not especially close to the ThunderClan border, but one could never be too careful when they were alone. After the death of Birdsong during a border skirmish and Hazelstream's own surprise attack... Sharpfrost had learned that lesson all too well. A vicious snarl ripped its way from her muzzle, fangs barring on instinct. Even now, just thinking that molly's name brought such a violent reaction from her. She had to forcefully swallow the bile back down her throat, taking rest of her violent emotions with it. One deep breath, two, three, each hard enough to stretch her rib cage from within and fill her lungs to the brim, and finally she had calmed down enough to continue her little project. This time around, she chose a place only a foxlength away from the river's edge - the last time, it had been two foxlengths away, and she'd barely caught anything except for a few trout and one skinny minnow. This time, she was going to see if closer was better for this year. The molly's small white paws made quick work of the soft silt, forming a nice little hole that would hopefully catch something for her Clan tonight. In moments the first one was done, and Sharpfrost was on to the next.

Twice she'd repeated the pattern as she traveled the river's edge, remaining only a foxlength away and digging new holes at random intervals. As she was moving onto the area for the fourth hole however, she was greeted by a sudden shock of tabby and white fur near the edge of the water. Familiar tabby and white fur. Duckstep. Immediately, the stoic female felt a hard tug at her heart, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she froze in place. What was Duckstep doing out here? And with a rainstorm about to break? Sharpfrost knew very well what the sour weather did to her sister's twisted leg, having watched her have to deal with it since the Incident. The molly's head tilted slightly, deciding against making her presence known just yet. Instead, the female stood quietly, watching with no small amount of pride as Duckstep managed to make a catch. Others might've felt embarrassed; even Duckstep, with her handicap, was a better huntress than Sharpfrost, but all the molly felt was pure pride and awe. In so many ways, Duckstep was so much stronger than her, than all of RiverClan. To overcome so much... it was this that made Sharpfrost feel that distance was the best course of action. Duckstep was strong, and Sharpfrost was not. Her sister didn't need her dragging her down.

And Sharpfrost would never be able to live with herself if she caused Duckstep harm... like everyone else who she was close to before.

Without warning, the rains began. One drop turned into three, and those three turned into twenty, and twenty turned into hundreds until sheets of water were falling. And still it seemed that Duckstep had not yet noticed her audience. But perhaps there was a reason for that; there was something about the aura around the other molly. Something... broken and painful. Suspicion took hold in Sharpfrost's mind, watching as the one she called sister just stood there, letting the rain fall down upon her in droves. Whatever was exactly going on, Sharpfrost couldn't leave her Clanmate now. Not until she got to the bottom of this. A glance to the side of her, back into the forest, gave her a way to get an answer. Quietly, she padded to the forest edge and wrapped her jaws around a fallen beech branch, the leaves still attached securely to their holdings even as she heaved the slender branch up. Without a word, she padded over towards Duckstep and carefully held the branch over her Clanmate's head, angling it to where the leaves would act as an umbrella and shelter Duckstep from the downpour. "Bad weather to be standing in." she mewed calmly, her voice slightly muffled from the bark. "Nice catch though." she purred softly, her vivid hues, usually so hard and cold now softening every so slightly. In so many ways, Duckstep was Sharpfrost's weakness and strength.

Even Goosefleck, back when they'd loved each other, hadn't been able to bring Sharpfrost's emotions to the surface like this...

WORD COUNT: 1329
TAGGED: crescendo & duckstep
NOTES: heya finally got this up! i'm playing her right now as though duckstep is still a warrior and magpiestar and ashenfang are still leader and deputy. hope that's alright. <3