Post by just atlanta. on May 15, 2016 3:21:45 GMT
whitewater
Whitewater lounged drowsily in the lower boughs of a pear tree, his white pelt blending in with the delicate pale blooms that were bursting from their buds. It was currently high noon, the sun burning directly overhead, and while he wasn’t really one to be lazy, he also wasn’t about to deny himself a moment’s reprieve in the shade. The morning had been a good one, anyways; he had organized a few hunting patrols, led a border patrol along the river himself, and had returned to the camp island mid-morning to steal a few hours of sleep before meeting Martenpaw for a brief bought of friendly sparring. His young apprentice had been coming along fairly well in her hunting abilities, but they hadn’t had an abundance of time to work on her battle skills. What she had learned brought them to a promising starting place, a solid foundation, but he hoped that they could expound on it today.
He had asked Martenpaw to meet him here just past sunhigh, and as he eyed the skies through lidded eyes, he determined it to be about that time. Jumping down nimbly from his perch to land softly on all fours, Whitewater stretched out the sleep from his limbs, first reaching out his front paws and bowing his back, next extending each hind leg behind him in turn. Only seasons of conditioning kept his muscles from protesting, but the stiffness from the morning’s activities stubbornly lingered. With a frustrated growl, the RiverClan warrior rolled his shoulders, feeling the bones and sinew shift with a series of satisfying pops, until he worked out the tension. He was hardly worried about his apprentice getting the better of him, but he wanted her to get as good a lesson as she could, and he could hardly do that if he was still aching and tired from running down the borders.
tikker ♪ ♫ boom short post for some martenwater funtimes
He had asked Martenpaw to meet him here just past sunhigh, and as he eyed the skies through lidded eyes, he determined it to be about that time. Jumping down nimbly from his perch to land softly on all fours, Whitewater stretched out the sleep from his limbs, first reaching out his front paws and bowing his back, next extending each hind leg behind him in turn. Only seasons of conditioning kept his muscles from protesting, but the stiffness from the morning’s activities stubbornly lingered. With a frustrated growl, the RiverClan warrior rolled his shoulders, feeling the bones and sinew shift with a series of satisfying pops, until he worked out the tension. He was hardly worried about his apprentice getting the better of him, but he wanted her to get as good a lesson as she could, and he could hardly do that if he was still aching and tired from running down the borders.
tikker ♪ ♫ boom short post for some martenwater funtimes
