can't you hear the thunder? (halle)

do you hear the lion roar?

[attr="class","itdscroll"]Falconstar ducked into the safety of his den, chest heaving with his run, and chuckled. His laugh was muffled slightly by the dampened pheasant locked in his jaws, but he dropped it next to his den and seated himself in order to wash the rain out of his fur. It had only been drizzling on his rapid descent from the surrounding forest to the fresh-kill pile to his den, but he had picked up a fair amount of moisture anyway. The tom finished up and seated himself in his nest, tucking all of his enormous paws in but one, which he used to snag the pheasant and drag it towards himself. The bird looked healthy and felt plump beneath his heavy paw, which he withdrew in order to start de-feathering the meal. Today had been a mighty productive day, if he did think so himself. Falconstar always loved to share a day with the apprentices and none was more important to him than his own apprentice. Well, his own apprentice and his niece and nephew, of course. And, really, Falconstar couldn't discount any of Thunderclan's apprentices, they were all such stellar and promising young cats. Falconstar huffed the smallest of laughs into his pheasant. Who am I kidding? I can never choose favorites!

Falconstar dug into his pheasant with gusto, watching the rain pour from the safety of his den. He would make rounds through the camp to check on everyone once his meal was over, he decided, and drew idle claws through the growing pile of feathers, relishing the taste of still-warm bird meat on his tongue. Thank you, Starclan, for this meal, he thought Heavenward and took another bite, warming to his core. He did love a good-tasting pheasant. The long-legged leader was swallowing a hefty mouthful when his sister walked in, and Falconstar choked at her sudden entrance, coughing down the big bite with effort. "Birchsong," he croaked, sitting up and blinking at her with watering eyes, once his coughing fit was over. "I... was not expecting you."

Then her words caught up with him and the hulking tom took a step towards her, concern darkening his eyes, "Are you alright, sister?" Surely she was fine, if she was here and complaining, but Falconstar supposed he should make sure. After all, they so rarely spoke. He glanced at her and then peered out of the den, checking to be sure that no one was actually drowning, before looking back to her with a restrained sigh wandering around his lungs. His sister had always been... dramatic. 


TAGGING just atlanta.  the sheer irony of that last statement

do you hear the lion roar?

[attr="class","itdscroll"]Talking to Birchsong was like going in circles, talking in riddles. What could she possibly mean by never expecting someone he couldn't see? She was right there. Birchsong had walked into his den, after all; it was impossible not to notice her. Falconstar sighed into his meal. And then when he checked on his clan, worried for the words she had just spoken, she snapped at him. And as he stood by the entrance of his den, Birchsong moved onto his meal, talking all the while. Falconstar heaved the heaviest of sighs, watching her go. His patience stretched thin, precarious over ice, with this she-cat whom he called sister. But as soon as Falconstar thought of his aggravation, he dismissed it. He would never know what was going on in that head of hers, but she had been through much with the birthing of her kits and her subsequent inability to settle down after Goldfur's moving into the elder's den. Falconstar hoped she found a mate soon, someone to ease her temper and enable her to relax where she clearly had been unable to do so in the past. He certainly had no such grasp over the she-cat's state of mind.

Falconstar approached her and seated himself. His voice was dry like the ground outside could never be again. "On the contrary, sister, I know nothing about the rumor mill." Falconstar had never concerned himself with such things. What information his friends wanted him to know, they would share. Otherwise, he did not involve himself in the private matters of others, unless they came to him for advice or to express concerns. Perhaps that was the difference between them, Falconstar thought, looking to Birchsong and shaking his head. It occurred to the tom to meow that such matters were beneath him, but the cutting lack of maturity in such a comment was truly beneath him, and so Falconstar resisted, saying only, "Would you like me to ask you to share these things, or shall I wait patiently for your discretion?" Perhaps the teasing would allow her to put herself at ease. Falconstar was, however, still hungry. He put a mighty paw over the pheasant and pulled it to him from beneath her, settling down then to take a bite of his meal once more, this time with one of his enormous paws latched over the neck to hold it in place, staring at her and awaiting this rumor mill all the while.



TAGGING just atlanta. dun dun dunnnnn Falcon's a little rankled