Post by 20mia08 on Jun 22, 2019 17:07:00 GMT
Stormchaser notes The warrior contemplated her words for a few heartbeats, attempting to paint a picture of DarkClan's territory in the back of his mind. He hoped that the question wasn't too private or threatening, he wasn't interested in charging into her home and raiding them of all their herbs and fresh kill. He was merely curious, as he almost always was, at least until his mind distracted him with something else. He had an almost passion for scenic beauty, he loved the layout of the land in WindClan that he so passionately roamed. Ravenstar's district sounded rather unwelcoming and almost inhabitable, but there were bits and pieces that he could imagine being absolutely stunning. "Naturally, I prefer open plains and flowers, as a WindClan cat." The smoky warrior admitted as he delved further into thought, exploring the image he had created of the unknown land. "I imagine your mornings must be breathtaking, though. Add a little bit of fog, and a bright golden sunrise..." Stormchaser was purring at the thought. He wasn't always much of a morning person himself, but sometimes, sunrises easily beat sunsets in terms of charm. He had to admit that the moors got a little boring during other seasons when the flowers were not so prevalent. It wouldn't be too bad, having a few more trees. His love for exploration and territory stemmed from his attempts to get away from the family drama, and enjoy some down-time with his brother. It was the easier way to de-stress his littermate, and keep his powers under control. They would spend long evenings racing through the tall grass, back when it was almost well over their heads. He missed the innocence of youth, but he also wished his hadn't been so...unfortunate. Swishing his tail awkwardly, the scattered tom felt guilty for keeping her so long. "O-Oh, yeah, sorry...hope things go well for your Clan, safe journeys. Maybe we'll meet again, we could trade wildflowers and plants from our Clans!" Idiot!! Now he just sounded as lame as he looked, like some sort of sensitive kit struggling to make friends. |
Thorne