Post by eunsoul은솔 on Mar 25, 2020 22:45:10 GMT
Swanstep leaned forward to scent the border between his clan and the other. His heart was beginning to hammer a little, as he was remembering the stories he’d been fed since he was a kit about those clans. He quickly backed off, careful not to have stepped foot too close to the border. He’d get an earful from the senior warriors on this patrol if the other side picked up his scent later on.
His ears swiveling, the gray and white tabby tom lowered himself down to a sit. It was quite a calm evening, a gentle breeze carrying several drying strands of heather into the wind. The tom glanced up and spotted several large clouds. He curled his lip, willing there not to be a thunderstorm tonight. It would definitely put him into a mood, as storms reminded him of his.. ugh, sister.
The handsome tom gave a little sigh, as he shifted his shoulders to a much more comfortable angle and felt himself relax. He lifted his front paw to lick it and then groom his face a little, then quickly turned as he sensed movement behind him. It was his border patrol, which had been previously fanned out, but seemed to have grouped back again. His clanmates seemed to watching some hares streaking across a large hill a few tree-lengths away. As he tore his eyes away from the prey, he made eye-contact with one of cats in his patrol.
It was -foot, a ginger tom he didn’t know well. From the way the tom’s eye were shining in a nervous light, Swanstep already knew this tom was tendering a liking for him.
“S-Swanstep.. you’re coming with us, right?”
Swanstep considered for a moment, before coming to terms with his current priorities. He was a bit tired from being assigned to two other border patrols from earlier in the day, so he decided against it. Being in the positive attention of WindClan, Swanstep learned a while ago how to please others while not being a pushover.
“I think I’m needing a little air. You go ahead.” The longhaired tom shot him a little grin.
“Oh, alright.” -foot answered, looking like he was going to say something else before ultimately following the rest of patrol to the hills where the rabbits were.
Swanstep really didn’t want to go back in camp. He already knew his father was going to be plotting how to get the almighty Ashsong back. His father wasn’t the largest cat in the clowder, but his presence sure was glaring to Swanstep.
Swanstep lapped at his paw, then swiped it over his ears. Mid-lick, he paused and pricked his ears as he hea4d another cat approaching from the other side of the border...
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His ears swiveling, the gray and white tabby tom lowered himself down to a sit. It was quite a calm evening, a gentle breeze carrying several drying strands of heather into the wind. The tom glanced up and spotted several large clouds. He curled his lip, willing there not to be a thunderstorm tonight. It would definitely put him into a mood, as storms reminded him of his.. ugh, sister.
The handsome tom gave a little sigh, as he shifted his shoulders to a much more comfortable angle and felt himself relax. He lifted his front paw to lick it and then groom his face a little, then quickly turned as he sensed movement behind him. It was his border patrol, which had been previously fanned out, but seemed to have grouped back again. His clanmates seemed to watching some hares streaking across a large hill a few tree-lengths away. As he tore his eyes away from the prey, he made eye-contact with one of cats in his patrol.
It was -foot, a ginger tom he didn’t know well. From the way the tom’s eye were shining in a nervous light, Swanstep already knew this tom was tendering a liking for him.
“S-Swanstep.. you’re coming with us, right?”
Swanstep considered for a moment, before coming to terms with his current priorities. He was a bit tired from being assigned to two other border patrols from earlier in the day, so he decided against it. Being in the positive attention of WindClan, Swanstep learned a while ago how to please others while not being a pushover.
“I think I’m needing a little air. You go ahead.” The longhaired tom shot him a little grin.
“Oh, alright.” -foot answered, looking like he was going to say something else before ultimately following the rest of patrol to the hills where the rabbits were.
Swanstep really didn’t want to go back in camp. He already knew his father was going to be plotting how to get the almighty Ashsong back. His father wasn’t the largest cat in the clowder, but his presence sure was glaring to Swanstep.
Swanstep lapped at his paw, then swiped it over his ears. Mid-lick, he paused and pricked his ears as he hea4d another cat approaching from the other side of the border...
best metaphor poems
