in the light of the morning [open]

    Dusk was upon the forest. The early hours of the morning always held a bit of surreality to the tabby she-cat wandering through them. The sun still floated below the horizon line, just barely emanating a hint of its warm glow to the waiting world. Dawn was still at least an hour away and with it would come patrols, hunting parties, and the gradual rise of activity in the shrouded ShadowClan camp. But now, at a time where the forest slept, the bliss was hers and hers alone. Even the birds, vocal throughout the day, hung back in silence, resting up for their sunrise-spurred cue. An owl hooted in the distance, solitary and forlorn. Owls had always enchanted Asterstripe, with their plumed feathers and massive wings. To kits, they were dangerous — or so the elder queens warned, but she had only ever pleasantly coexisted with them. She had a very over-arching mantra that if one could only be quiet, listen, remain respectful, that others would do the same. This tended to translate to clan cats as well, in her experience.

She imagined the majesty of the bird of prey’s wings unfurling for flight, taking advantage of the last hours of hunting time until the next rise of the moon. Powerful sinew lifted it into the air, snowy feathers hanging like cotton in the diminishing moonlight. She considered, for a moment, seeking out the great animal to see it for herself, but decided against it; she hardly wanted to jeopardize its’ expedition with her curious gaze. Coexist in peace. Symbiosis.

Aster, despite an imminent threat of rogue attacks, had felt the itch in her paws just an hour before. As it usually did, her vivid dreaming awoke her from her slumber, jolting her from fast asleep to wide awake in moments. After such awakenings, she was never able to rest peacefully again, so, with utmost care to be soundless tip toeing around her fellow warriors, the she-cat had slipped from camp in a near undetectable hush. The walls of the warriors’ den often made her feel claustrophobic - she liked to see the stars and, more than the first time, she vaguely envied the WindClan cats and their open camp. That was where she slept best: under the galaxy. Under the shining dots of light, like millions of pin holes in the flooring of heaven. Usually, it was better for everyone if she took her restlessness from the sleeping bodies as not to wake them with her need to move.

So, in her solitude, the grey she-cat wandered in an aimless fashion, senses open to whatever Mother Nature offered her. The longer she padded, the warmer-toned the sky became, the darkness of the black cloak above-head fading to blues, purples, and eventually reds. She brushed her pelt along the undergrowth, making no effort to conceal her scent from anyone lurking. With dainty footsteps, Aster floated over the pine-strewn flooring, running her tail along upturned leaves to collect the sparkling dew on its tip. Yellow eyes fluttered shut and she took a deep, calming breath in, the morning freshness cool on her lungs.