Post by feeling kinda blue on Mar 15, 2016 17:10:05 GMT
Somewhere to the south there were birds singing. Their twittering songs wove together and colored the otherwise quiet day, the occasional rattle of a squirrel running through the branches adding a subtle backdrop to the singing birds. Gentle breezes, warmed by the sun, ghosted through the forest. Combing through vividly green leaves and swaying thin branches, the breeze coasted through the dense ThunderClan woodland. Droplets of sunlight streamed through the dense canopy, slipping between the layers of leaves and reaching for the cooler forest floor below while the birds sang and the wind blew. The sound of swaying leaves gave the forest a backdrop of constant white noise and sensation of movement but no one could be surprised by that. It was the height of newleaf and everything was bursting with life. The brush was dense and full of blooming plants, prey was running well through the undergrowth and chattering through the trees. Everything was alive and in motion, busy as could be after a long silent winter.
Everything that was, except for one particular cat in one particular tree not far outside of ThunderClan's bustling camp. The tree itself was a humble young oak still working its way toward the height of the giants around it. Its bark was rough but not scarred by decades of abusive weather, no lightning strikes or broken branches telling about its rough life. It still had lower branches than some of the other trees and on one particular low-slung branch there was a cat. Pale ginger in color with slightly darker points, the cat was one of long body and strong muscle. His sandy pelt was sleek and dappled with sunlight, nearly bleached white where the sun kissed it. Vividly blue eyes were shut as the cat slumbered, sprawled along the length of the branch with all four limbs dangling limply off the branch, tail draped lazily half off the branch. Every now and then there would be a slow twitch at the very tip of the tail but otherwise the cat lay completely still, a stark contrast to his clanmates in their camp not far away who were bustling and hustling to get everything done.
In his defense, Locustflight had had a long couple of days. Applepaw, his apprentice, had gotten him up bright and early for the last several days in a row. She wanted to take her training seriously now that she was edging toward warrior age and Locustflight was nothing if not an accommodating mentor. So, though he wasn't a natural early riser, Locustflight had risen early and gone to sleep late for the last several days. He and Applepaw had spent their days hunting, climbing, running and tracking, sparring in the sandy hollow and tracking patrols to recreate their routes so Applepaw could get used to following old scents. In short they'd both been running from well before dawn to well past sunset more days than not so today Locustflight had made the decision to give both his apprentice and himself the day off. Falconstar had rolled his eyes as the request but granted it nonetheless because contrary to popular belief Locustflight was capable of getting things done.
So, here he was, draped along the branch of an oak tree where he had planted himself hours ago, dozing in that place between awake and asleep. His muscles were soft under his fur, all tension gone and body loose. If he could be bothered to move anytime soon Locustflight thought perhaps he might go for a run, not for a hunt or because he was being chased or Applepaw needed training but just for fun...it might be nice. But for now the flame-point tom simply couldn't be bothered to move from his sun dappled branch.
Everything that was, except for one particular cat in one particular tree not far outside of ThunderClan's bustling camp. The tree itself was a humble young oak still working its way toward the height of the giants around it. Its bark was rough but not scarred by decades of abusive weather, no lightning strikes or broken branches telling about its rough life. It still had lower branches than some of the other trees and on one particular low-slung branch there was a cat. Pale ginger in color with slightly darker points, the cat was one of long body and strong muscle. His sandy pelt was sleek and dappled with sunlight, nearly bleached white where the sun kissed it. Vividly blue eyes were shut as the cat slumbered, sprawled along the length of the branch with all four limbs dangling limply off the branch, tail draped lazily half off the branch. Every now and then there would be a slow twitch at the very tip of the tail but otherwise the cat lay completely still, a stark contrast to his clanmates in their camp not far away who were bustling and hustling to get everything done.
In his defense, Locustflight had had a long couple of days. Applepaw, his apprentice, had gotten him up bright and early for the last several days in a row. She wanted to take her training seriously now that she was edging toward warrior age and Locustflight was nothing if not an accommodating mentor. So, though he wasn't a natural early riser, Locustflight had risen early and gone to sleep late for the last several days. He and Applepaw had spent their days hunting, climbing, running and tracking, sparring in the sandy hollow and tracking patrols to recreate their routes so Applepaw could get used to following old scents. In short they'd both been running from well before dawn to well past sunset more days than not so today Locustflight had made the decision to give both his apprentice and himself the day off. Falconstar had rolled his eyes as the request but granted it nonetheless because contrary to popular belief Locustflight was capable of getting things done.
So, here he was, draped along the branch of an oak tree where he had planted himself hours ago, dozing in that place between awake and asleep. His muscles were soft under his fur, all tension gone and body loose. If he could be bothered to move anytime soon Locustflight thought perhaps he might go for a run, not for a hunt or because he was being chased or Applepaw needed training but just for fun...it might be nice. But for now the flame-point tom simply couldn't be bothered to move from his sun dappled branch.
TAGGED · open to all
NOTES · come on someone come bother locust!
