smooth operator (sybil) Jul 15, 2016 8:23:23 GMT via mobile
Post by aurum on Jul 15, 2016 8:23:23 GMT
[ ABSOLUTELY HATED ] WORKING WITH YOU, [ PERIL ]
❝“oh, dear ancestors, this lighting is just absolutely horrendous.” incredulity and the smallest hint of an oncoming swoon of despair tainted the rather high-pitched exclamation; lynxchaser stood peering into a muddy, lilypad-covered pond by the outskirts of shadowclan territory with a look of terror. his image was distorted by the wind causing ripples in the water, and while it was already murky (starclan only knows what had caused that to be in such a particular state) and dark, the awful lack of natural light seeping through tangled leaves and branches overhead made it even worse. lynxchaser could barely see his reflection, the bright blue of his eyes washed out and his pristine white fur painted a mousy grey-brown shade. just how the tom had survived to this age in his life with so little surfaces upon which he could groom himself properly was an enigma in itself. “okay, i’m officially done with this mousedung. not gonna even try. i can find better places than this.” and with that, the slim, delicately-structured feline rose to his paws and sauntered away with a dignified nose up in the air.
lynxchaser was very aware of the threat recently posed against shadowclan (and windclan, too, but he’d rather not waste his energy worrying over their long-legged, rabbit-chasing neighbours). news from rosestar about cat-eating criminals prowling out of sight; an alliance forming to rid of said encroaching dangers; it was all very serious and foreboding. rogues were hardly a thing to joke about now. and he knew the risks—lynxchaser wasn’t an idiot, of course—coming out alone to the outer edges of the territory exactly where he’d expect the mongrels to lunge at him and eat the flesh off of his bones. but to the striped tom, it was hardly a price to pay in return for much better lighting and perhaps even a chance at an interesting day. it wasn’t often one could converse with a cannibal before his inevitable untimely, gruesome death. it all held a tense, exhilarating edge to it; lynxchaser loved that.
the streamlined warrior stopped just right where he’d spied a brilliant clearing. no intruding bush or other foliage, not shrouded so menacingly with towering pines and sycamores—and most importantly: “sunlight actually exists here! how delightful,” lynxchaser purred. he wasted no time, settling beside the tiniest stagnant puddle. it was fairly clear of mud and other undesirable substances, and the sun’s rays bounced off of it in sparkling reflections. perfect. peering into the surface, lynxchaser began to groom his fur, stepping back every once in a while to admire himself and his handiwork.
this went on for quite a considerable amount of time, but to him, it was barely minutes. although, lynxchaser was aware of the new distorted picture appearing in the liquid frame he was using. a wolfish smile tugged on his lips, but he didn’t bother looking up. “out to perfect a look, too? or were you admiring? either way, there’s no harm in approaching; i don’t bite.” his smirk grew wider as he passed a paw absently across his muzzle. “...well, unless you’re interested in those sorts of.. undertakings. i’m not one to object.”
[ PS ] sybil