out of our minds (crow/shade)

sybil with crowsong
credit to nat of adoxography.

The morning was a cool one, but not even close to the leaf-bare that had just passed them. The black tom was reluctant to leave his den, especially when he had no patrols to be going on so early, but the weather tugged him to get out a stretch his legs. Inwardly, he groaned at his energy level - wanting nothing more than to curl up in the warmth of his mossy nest and sleep the day away. But, he was awake now, and there was nothing he could truly do about it. The tom cat popped his head up, peering around the den and trying to see who was still in the den that he could bring himself to bother. Without an apprentice, the warrior had too much time on his hands, and he had been quick to take it out on the "friends" he had. 

Pale green eyes spotted the familiar black pelt of Crowsong. She had been going through a tough time lately. Not only had she lost a kit, but her mate as well. Shadewhisker couldn't relate to such a thing, but he was more than willing to try and help her clear her thoughts and focus on something more, give her something to live for, he guessed. Good friends would help her get through it and who knew, maybe in time she would find another deserving cat and have a family of her own. Though, the older tom knew that it wouldn't do her any good with that kind of talk at the moment. It was just too soon. Instead, he would focus on getting her out of her thoughts and depression, teach her how to be free again. Yes, that was exactly what he was going to do.

Shadewhisker pulled himself from his nest, shaking the moss from his fur, and licking dramatically until his black fur shone in the dull dawn. He weaved his way carefully through the tails and paws of other cats, trying his best to let them relax. Most of the cats were still asleep, resting until they had their patrols. Shadewhisker wished he could do the same. Shaking his head, he drew the thoughts away and leaned to press his nose gently against the shoulder of the long-furred, black she cat. Crowsong. He meowed gently, nudging her a bit more before he backed up. Let's go for a walk. He gave her a few moments. If she didn't comply to his "demand," he walked around her and stuck his muzzle under her shoulder to shove her out of the nest. It was mostly a playful gesture, but told her he wasn't kidding about the walk. 

Whenever she decided to join him, he walked to the camp entrance before turning around and looking at her, a playful flame dancing in his green eyes.