|
|
Sept 23, 2016 20:28:21 GMT -6
Post by Robincreek on Sept 23, 2016 20:28:21 GMT -6
Robincreek's sunrise had began like any usual sunrise. She had woken up just as the reddish orange sun peaked above the tree-tops. There were smudges of dark gray and blue clouds that had slowly dissipated as the sunrise progressed. The warrior had been out hunting in the rivers at lurked scattered throughout the terrain. She had caught one fish, specifically a minnow. The feline had studied the kill curiously before burying it and continuing on her way. The she-cat had other luck, catching small rodents, but alas nothing more. Robincreek made journey's back to the camp to drop off her prey. Robincreek had felt rather alone since the sickness had swept through the clan. Often the warrior tried not to let the pain and agony drain her too much. But, it was hard. The moment played over in her mind many times. Perhaps Robincreek should have shouted out in protest at the March. Maybe she should have joined Carpeyes and her mother. Robincreek knew, through much thought, that joining them and shouting recklessly would have made no difference. It would have held no benefit. Robincreek loved her mate and mother. Her mother had not since been the same since father's passing and Robincreek had tried to be there for her. But, it was difficult to support someone while trying to move on. Loss should not be held onto and fixated on. It caused missed opportunities and she knew that, despite generally being a rather impulsive feline. The fluffy calico slowly released a sigh as she padded through the territory. It was well passed sun-high now. The sun would be turning down soon enough and dusk would be among them very shortly. The warrior padded through the territory, her head turning from left to right as she checked to ensure no dangers lurked within the grounds of RiverClan. @tagged
ulla |
|
|
|
Oct 5, 2016 9:24:23 GMT -6
Post by Falconstone on Oct 5, 2016 9:24:23 GMT -6
DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER If he wasn't swimming, Falconstone could usually be found patrolling. He did well on solo patrols because he was so large, and could usually hold his own in a fight against another cat or even three, if one of them was particularly runty. Group patrols were less common for him because they tended to move quickly, and he often found himself bringing up the rear several fox-lengths behind. It wasn't terrible or anything, just a personal preference.
Right now he was on the west side of the territory, passing under the shade of a giant oak tree. It was nearing the end of the day and the coolness of night was beginning to descend upon them, informing Falconstone that it would be best to return to camp soon. His night vision was perfect, as was the case with most cats, but in the days after the Great March Falconstone had made sure to stay near or within the camp. With many of their warriors lost to the sickness, Falconstone wanted to personally make sure the camp was still protected.
The big tabby marked the end of his patrol route with a clear paw print in the loamy soil and turned back to face the center of the territory, intending to go back and reach the camp entrance just as twilight descended. But as he moved, a familiar scent drifted to him, carried by the wind.
He'd know that scent anywhere. Falconstone had grown up with that scent in his nose, always playing beside his sister, spending all their time together as kits. For it was the scent of Robincreek, and it seemed she was not too far away.
Frowning, Falconstone paused in his steps to think about this. He and Robincreek had grown apart after the Great March. They returned to the same camp each night, but somehow he had been able to avoid talking to her for a significant amount of time beyond the usual greetings in passing. Rebuilding the clan was keeping them all busy, and he hadn't had a real conversation with his sister in weeks. It wasn't that she had done anything wrong, but he supposed he was finding it hard to want to speak with her about anything that might lead to discussing Swiftstream's exile and death. He hadn't really spoken to anyone about it at all, and wasn't particularly keen for this conversation with Robincreek to be the first one about their mother's demise. He knew she had gotten over it quickly, and didn't want to be pressured into doing the same.
A dry twig bent under his heavy paw with a loud snap, and Falconstone cringed as the sound echoed through the forest . He wasn't nimble at all of course, and now any chance of him escaping without Robincreek noticing him in the vicinity was gone. Not to mention his scent was on the wind now, too. Flicking his ears regretfully, he sat down in the middle of the path with a heavy sigh and began to groom himself while waiting, knowing his sister would happen upon him if she came this way.
522 | Robincreek | Hey sorry this took a while!! :') Hope you don't mind me tossing Falcon in here. AWKWARD SIBLING REUNION GO! ulla |
|
