Post by skyy and her socks on Dec 7, 2015 11:30:46 GMT
It felt like the darkness was trapped in the wind. It rolled through, sweeping up flakes of grass in its mist and made them disappear; a dark figure pulling free all that wasn’t tied down and dragging it away into the nothingness above. After all, wasn’t that how the sky felt? With thick cloud overlaying the stars and moon, all it looked like was deep, navy darkness. Not a sign of light to the heavens above. Was this what it would feel like without StarClan in their lives? The thought alone made the huge grey tom uncomfortable. Alone, with nothing but an empty sky and the sweeping darkness. It seemed like such a grim existence.
Stoneshade placed one paw on top of the other where he lay, just outside the entrance of the camp, on one of the few rocks that scattered just before the break in the gorse. The easier place to see movement from. His dark pelt melted into the rock below, the shadows twining them together, cat and namesake as one unmovable figure. That idea was much nicer to accept. At least in theory. Stoneshade lay like a rock itself, forever overlooking what lay below, on constant guard, but undisturbed by the movements of the land. It was a figure he took proudly and without hesitation. The silent overlooker that stepped in when it was needed. Much like nature itself, he supposed. Then again, wasn’t that all they were?
Thoughts tumbled across the tom’s mind like leaves in a whirlwind, a constant distraction from the deadness of the night. Even though his company was just fine, well, some habits were hard to break. Regardless, they were somewhat focused, on each and every sound that thought of approaching the gorge itself. After all, there had been rogue sightings near the borders, and the guards were there for one job, to protect. Stoneshade didn’t move all that much, just enough to turn his head ever so slightly to the side in order to glanced at Sheepwhisker, checking that the tom was still on alert, before his gaze returned to the skies, his ears paying attention to the land around them. For all that was worried though, things seemed peaceful.
“If you had a choice,” he meowed softly after a moment, voice a low rumble so as not to disturb anyone but the tom beside him. “Would you rather fight a family of rogues, or a family of badgers.” Which would be worse when approaching the camp? Rogues could be worked with, turned toward their cause, and they were fellow felines. But badgers were a danger to all cats, and a different creature entirely. It wasn’t a question he had an answer to himself, so voicing it hardly seemed an issue. They both did need to stay conscious after all. Stoneshade let his gaze sweep the moors in front of them once more, carefully following the rise and fall of the grass as it was tugged by the dark wind itself
Stoneshade placed one paw on top of the other where he lay, just outside the entrance of the camp, on one of the few rocks that scattered just before the break in the gorse. The easier place to see movement from. His dark pelt melted into the rock below, the shadows twining them together, cat and namesake as one unmovable figure. That idea was much nicer to accept. At least in theory. Stoneshade lay like a rock itself, forever overlooking what lay below, on constant guard, but undisturbed by the movements of the land. It was a figure he took proudly and without hesitation. The silent overlooker that stepped in when it was needed. Much like nature itself, he supposed. Then again, wasn’t that all they were?
Thoughts tumbled across the tom’s mind like leaves in a whirlwind, a constant distraction from the deadness of the night. Even though his company was just fine, well, some habits were hard to break. Regardless, they were somewhat focused, on each and every sound that thought of approaching the gorge itself. After all, there had been rogue sightings near the borders, and the guards were there for one job, to protect. Stoneshade didn’t move all that much, just enough to turn his head ever so slightly to the side in order to glanced at Sheepwhisker, checking that the tom was still on alert, before his gaze returned to the skies, his ears paying attention to the land around them. For all that was worried though, things seemed peaceful.
“If you had a choice,” he meowed softly after a moment, voice a low rumble so as not to disturb anyone but the tom beside him. “Would you rather fight a family of rogues, or a family of badgers.” Which would be worse when approaching the camp? Rogues could be worked with, turned toward their cause, and they were fellow felines. But badgers were a danger to all cats, and a different creature entirely. It wasn’t a question he had an answer to himself, so voicing it hardly seemed an issue. They both did need to stay conscious after all. Stoneshade let his gaze sweep the moors in front of them once more, carefully following the rise and fall of the grass as it was tugged by the dark wind itself
tagged: hallelujah | words: 501
