there i go, turn the page
|
Post by bones on Mar 15, 2024 16:53:01 GMT -6
#s://i~postimg~cc/SsdYr521/rockscreech-POSTINGIMG~png rockscreech, | | tom (he/him)
ridgeclan
guardian
|
The Leaf-Bare sun overhead is crisp and bright, but it does abso-fucking-lutely nothing to melt the snow on the ground or cut through the persistent cold of the season. While the cold is something Rockscreech is used to, raised in, and honestly doesn't bother him anymore - not like it does some weaklings - it seems to be compounding any already bad mood. As subtly as he could, Rockscreech had been keeping an eye on Ridgeclan's new neighbors - it was a glowering, judgmental and hateful kind of observance - and he was not pleased with what he'd been seeing. The Kingdom, as inhospitable area as it was inhabiting, was growing... Or, so it seemed. The black smoke with venomously cutting yellow eyes he'd spotted across the border, carrying several sprigs of some king of plant, was not someone he was familiar with. Then there'd been new scents along the other border, cats he didn't recognize. Sure, it was not a swift, invasive type of growth - thanks whatever lucky Stars the clans had for that fucking small mercy - but the gradual increase in numbers was there if one knew what to look for. Which is why he'd trekked all the way down to the other side of the territory, to the river border that clashed with the outskirts of Prairieclan. The walk did little to cool his bubbling, boiling temper at the injustice of it all - if Starclan was real, then those turn-coat cowards should be stagnant and suffering (which really begged the question of starry-pelted ancestors actually existing...) - so he took a moment to crouch down at the water's edge. His reflection glowered back at him with dark blue eyes and he chuffed at himself before the relentless energy blistering under his fur forced him back to his white paws. The snow crunched under his paws as he started down the river, renewing its scent marks and clawing at various trees for good measure. |
|
|
|
Post by tor on Mar 17, 2024 13:26:12 GMT -6
#s://i~ibb~co/BzmfgZ6/whiskey~jpg It wasn't often Whiskey found himself on this half the clan territories, preferring instead to travel east, or even south. To the west, he risked coming across any of those damned cabin rogues. Just thinking about them made his blood run hot, melting the snow that crunched under his paws with each step. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid the west today. He needed to check on the river, as it would tell him what to expect about the final days of winter. Thankfully, he could hear the river before he saw it. That was a good sign. It meant the temperatures weren't cold enough to freeze the flowing waters anymore, and they should - hopefully - expect a mild end to the season. A sudden chill could always alter that, but, given his own distaste for the cold, Whiskey chose to ignore that was a possibility. Instead, he continued toward the river, wanting a good look at it before he finalized his predictions. Though he disliked winter, he could admit it came with its perks. Notably, the way he could blend in easily with his snowy surroundings, moving through the open, snow-covered grasslands practically unseen, like a hiemal shadow in plain sight. He did so now, creeping toward the river not because of any need to hide from its waters, but rather because of what - or who - he saw on the other side of it. A cat. Significantly scarred, with torn ears and a dark mask of fur that gave him a mysterious look. Clan, if Whiskey had to guess, from the way he stomped around as if he owned the land, despite them both being in a grayer area of territory. Not PrairieClan - he could recognize that scent well enough, but the scents of RidgeClan and MistClan often blurred to him. He would assume RidgeClan, just because of what side of the river the tom was on. Did he make himself known? Whiskey supposed there was a river between them that would keep him safe, though the crossing point was just a few tree-lengths down river. "Careful," he called out as the clan cat wandered close to the river bank. "The water isn't frozen, but the bank might be. You wouldn't want to slip." |
|
