Post by finchsong on Aug 6, 2012 19:29:41 GMT -6
(Dustpaw only, thanks.)
A single copper-colored eye shone from the entrance of the apprentices' den. It was moonhigh, and Finchpaw had been sitting out in the clearing alone, lost in her thoughts. The half-blind female had practically faded from Clan life over the past few moons, and she had lost interest in the daily goings-on of the forest. But the previous night, she had dreamed of a vividly real forest in which she was a warrior. And not just any warrior at that; she had been the best. The fastest runner, the best climber, the most fearless fighter, the boldest hunter.
And so the blue-gray apprentice had been reminded of her dreams as a kit; how she had wished to be that powerful warrior when she grew up. Maybe even with one eye, she shouldn't give up just yet on that dream. Finchpaw had been deep in thought all day, and she had stayed up late on this night in order to ponder the idea of living as a fully-functional warrior with one eye.
Of course, it was fairly ridiculous, to the point of being a fantasy. But it was something to hold on to, some faint ray of hope that had shaken her out of the depressed mood she had lingered in so long. The apprentice was determined now to do her best - but first she had to deal with something that had been bothering her.
Stepping carefully over the sleeping forms of apprentices, she followed her nose until she stopped beside a nest with an awfully familiar scent. The scent of her rival, Dustpaw. Finchpaw's lip curled; she couldn't see so well with only one eye in the dull moonlight. Was he there, sleeping in the nest? Or was he creeping up right behind her, preparing to spring and sink his fangs into her neck? The fur on Finchpaw's back began to bristle. She had to settle things with this cat, but where was he?
A single copper-colored eye shone from the entrance of the apprentices' den. It was moonhigh, and Finchpaw had been sitting out in the clearing alone, lost in her thoughts. The half-blind female had practically faded from Clan life over the past few moons, and she had lost interest in the daily goings-on of the forest. But the previous night, she had dreamed of a vividly real forest in which she was a warrior. And not just any warrior at that; she had been the best. The fastest runner, the best climber, the most fearless fighter, the boldest hunter.
And so the blue-gray apprentice had been reminded of her dreams as a kit; how she had wished to be that powerful warrior when she grew up. Maybe even with one eye, she shouldn't give up just yet on that dream. Finchpaw had been deep in thought all day, and she had stayed up late on this night in order to ponder the idea of living as a fully-functional warrior with one eye.
Of course, it was fairly ridiculous, to the point of being a fantasy. But it was something to hold on to, some faint ray of hope that had shaken her out of the depressed mood she had lingered in so long. The apprentice was determined now to do her best - but first she had to deal with something that had been bothering her.
Stepping carefully over the sleeping forms of apprentices, she followed her nose until she stopped beside a nest with an awfully familiar scent. The scent of her rival, Dustpaw. Finchpaw's lip curled; she couldn't see so well with only one eye in the dull moonlight. Was he there, sleeping in the nest? Or was he creeping up right behind her, preparing to spring and sink his fangs into her neck? The fur on Finchpaw's back began to bristle. She had to settle things with this cat, but where was he?