Post by maxxy on Dec 2, 2008 18:55:08 GMT -5
.:[C]hilled air whipped into the den with an exasperated sigh, stirring the newly aquired winter coat on the little tom. His face pulled into a scrunch, then relaxed, opening a single pale aqua eye to the black world. The apprentice slammed it shut, then a little ripple started at his lips, riping his mouth apart into a huge yawn. His fangs gleamed white, and his tongue seemed sharp and rough. His front lets came out before him, his paws outstretching in a huge display of toes and claws. He pushed himself towards the roof of the den, arching his back, then stretching his back legs in a great effort to get the blood moving easily through his body again.
.:[T]he black world was only lit with the strands of scents that hung in his vision, but it wasn't enough to see the true beauty in new-leaf, or the snow in leaf-bare, or even the numerous colors that glittered leaf-fall, no. His only colours, are those of the scents that lead his way through his life, keeping him in balance with things, and helping him find his way. The strongest, and most recent scent strand, was that of his sister, the light musky and homey scent that she carried for him led the way out of the apprentice den, and calmly, the little tom followed out the entrance.
.:harp air burst into his face as he emerged from his warm sleeping quarters, and his eyes started to water with the burst of wind. The tom blinked a few times, but then looked around, the blackness of day engulfed him, but his sister's scent trail led him to the fresh-kill pile, if you could call it that. The stale scents of the last remaining peices of meat were atleast a few hours old, if not more. A low growl ripped into the air, and Slatepaw's ears pounded on his head as the blood rushed to them. Wow was he hungry. Mistpaw's scent was very strong here, and he felt the warmth of her skin come off her like radiation. Slatepaw put his nose on her shoulder and looked at where he assumed her face was.
.:[H]e was always very good at hiding his blindness, but everyone in camp already knew that he was, so why hide it? He just liked to trick new cats at first, when he got to see them.. Pale aqua eyes stared into the blackness, his sister's scent was the only thing he was able to see, its radiant musky homey smell made her the easiest cat to find, even in a group of cats. For Slatepaw, the scent strands are all different colours, and Mistpaw's is a light color, very bright in the darkness he resides, but he need not to bother with the other felines, he would memorize their color's soon enough. He just needed to spend some time with them first.
.:ale green eyes woke to the moan of Slatepaw. The pretty she-cat blinked a few times, trying to get her consiousness back smoothly. She uncoiled, and rolled onto her back, stretching her paws infront of her, and behind her. She smacked her jaws together and smiled. Her springy paw's helped her leap up and out of the apprentice den, and she headed towards the outside chilly air. It struck her, her warm fur suddenly unhelpful towards the chilly wind. Mistpaw shuddered, letting the ripples of her shiver roll down her back. She eyed the pitiful lack of a fresh-kill pile, her stomach growled hungrily, and the pain ached in her head as the lack of food made no nutrition for her morning.
.:ilent and carefull, she sat by the pile, knowing that she wasn't allowed to leave camp without a warrior. She would have to wait. The wind blew in her face, flattening her whiskers against her cheeks and neck. Then it died down again almost as fast as it stirred. Mistpaw drew in a large breath, and exagerated a sigh when it came out of her lungs. Her stomach growled angrily again, and Mistpaw's eyes ached for the entrance of the camp. She wanted to hunt so badly, but she knew that she must stay within the confines of the camp.
.:[T]he scent was sharp, familiar, warm. Mistpaw didn't have to look to see who was coming, it was her brother, Slatepaw. He came up to her, his blind eyes looking directly into hers and Mistpaw held back a gasp. She knew he was blind, but how come he always knew where to look into at cats? Even the really big ones, and then the kits? Slatepaw was just talented that way, she guessed. He didn't ask anything, he just breathed evenly, and she smiled to him, and flicked her tail on her shoulder. His scent stirred around her nose when the wind changed directions, and she took a deep breath. He had that sort of homey sap scent. It was a good warm scent that she knew as a kit. She liked it, it reminded her of her father.
.:ighing, Mistpaw stood up on her legs, shaking her pelt. Her eyes were blank, but looked exeedingly bored. She really had nothing to do, except spend another day with Slatepaw. Boring. Mistpaw loved Slatepaw, but his blindness comes into affect a lot of the time when they play, and she can't stand it if she hurts him. Slatepaw always say's its his fault, and they should keep playing, but the guilt always eats at Mistpaw, and she ends up just leaving, with him on her tail in pursuit anyway, and she'll hurt him again. Mistpaw didn't like that rutuine, but she didn't want to hurt her brothers feelings either.