Post by STORMFROST on Dec 24, 2016 21:27:38 GMT
I'M NOT LIKE THEM but i can pretend pale yellow eyes shone from the depths of the den as the large slate tom awoke from the deep recesses of sleep. from his vantage point, fleeting images of pelts ran across his vision, and he knew that even in the earliest of hours, the clan was busy with life. while some of the warriors and apprentices would still be curled up upon their nests of moss and various other soft items, most of thunderclan were beginning the day to day routine that had been embedded in their minds from the first time they awoke as an apprentice. the routine was simple, and monotonous, and stormfrost was thankful, not for the first time, that his routine differed from the rest of his clan mates. with a den void of patients, and a well stocked supply of precious herbs, there was little that the medicine cat had to do on this day. it was a rare occasion, one that he knew could change from laid back, to chaotic in a heart beat, so he was going to take full advantage of it. stretching out in his nest, the tom felt the tension and then the release that came with every morning stretch, and then rose to his paws, careful not to hit his head upon the roof. being a cat of his size, the den wasn’t exactly the ideal height for him to stand comfortably, but several moons of devotion had taught him to walk with his head down. for many, it was an odd concept, as it decreased ones field of vision, and made one look weak. stormfrost didn’t mind if his clanmates thought him weak, they all forgot about their preconceived notions of the young medicine cat when they were mewling like kits for him to help them. the thought tweaked a smile, pulling at the corners of his mouth as he groomed himself. usually, the tom looked less than well kept, an occupational hazard for medicine cats. when there were lives on the line, a messy pelt was the last thing on stormfrost’s mind. but on this glorious day, there were no lives needing to saved, no thorns in paws, and with the warm weather, dangerous infections of the lungs were low. his tongue rasped over his chest, and a few sporadic purrs erupted from his chest. by the looks of things, the morning hunting patrol would be back soon with their fresh-kill, and on this particular morning, the brute had a hankering for mouse. stepping out from the depths of his den, the tom’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sharp contrast of light, and he took a seat just outside of the den, wrapping his tail delicately over his paws, with a hint of a smile on his face as he watched a little of kits playing with their mothers tail. | TAG: @ open WORDS: 474 come ruin his day, fam |
credit to nat of adoxography.
