Dull Luster

[Fernear!]

The soft humming of the early New-leaf crickets rang in the grey ears of the she-cat. Her dainty paws were dry now, after her walk across the dew-drenched grasses. The moors were immense, breath-taking, and oh so much more; the sunrise was something of a dream as star's glow burst onto the semi-barren land. Each new leaf and every strand of grass was hugged by the golden light. As the sun drew past the horizon, brilliant hues of reds and pinks flew across the sky making the few clouds dotted amid the colourful sky reflect them. Birds began to awake, their early chicks already begging for food. Crimson cardinals sang about their hearts in one of ThunderClan's brilliant oaks while ravens of ebony feathers flew in from the twoleg place. The clans' territories were beginning to bustle with feeble attempts to get out of nests and perform duties.

The silver she-cat yawned as the sky began to shed its lustrous colours and return to a docile powdery blue. Swallowleaf got up and exhaled while letting out a gaping cat-stretch; she held her breath once her stance was complete before moving on. Now she was along the lake shore, her paws once again damp. The path she tread was used by many cats of various clans, this was the pathway other clans could break the border pact to visit the moonpool. Swallowleaf began to visit a particular notch in the path ever since the clans became quiet. Her faith held strong, though; she still hunted and checked the borders, renewing the scent whenever she needed to. In these few moons the once whimsical, pixie-hearted Swallowleaf had become more wise and collected. The old fancies have never demolished, but her tongue has been locked away from speaking of them, for no cat has been seen by her two grey-blue eyes in this time.

The days weren't as cold as those of Leaf-bare, but still felt chill nonetheless. New-leaf had made its entrance numerous suns ago, and yet many minds were being fooled about its whereabouts. The notch where Swallowleaf sat was a mere fork in the path, closer to RiverClan territory; it was fenced by sparse bull rushes and other river plants. It was like a lookout, a sanctuary where Swallowleaf could clear her mind and just gaze out into the world. Normally at this time of day she'd be hunting but for now her heart needed the reassurance of her spot if no cat were to arrive. Her eyes were blank, expressionless if you will, but in turn her mind was anything but blank.

"Oh lake, which of my fruitful fancies will fail me today? I fear, lest it will be the birds or the trees. And what have become of my companions? I ask this every day and still my answer is in the dust, waiting to be found..."

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[c e d a r *]

Largely sized oval paws flicked water off them irritably at what seemed to be every step he took. The dew on the grass was drying as the sun rose higher into the sky but it was still sticking heavily on his paws. He wasn't one to enjoy the feeling of water on his pelt, but the tom could handle it. Nothing big, it just bothered him until it was off.

Spotting a lonely silhouette in the distance, the tom slowed his pace from his canter-like gait to a walk. The dew collected itself greater at this pace, but he just wanted to be cautious. Once he saw this cat and whether or not he knew t, he would either pick up his pace or slow his pace down. He strained his neck, but he still couldn't tell if he knew this cat or not.

The cardinals singing and the different sounds of early new-leaf distracted him in many ways. He stopped and say down, before letting out a yowl of surprise as he felt water soak in between his fur and skin. It definitely wasn't waterproof, water soaked through his pelt quickly. That was probably one good thing about being a RiverClan cat. The water just slid down and off their pelts. Not his.

He directed his attention to the moors below him. He was on a hill. truthfully, he really never ventured out this far. Nothing had really brought him here. Ne never really had a need to go out this far. But today was going to be a beautiful day, he could tell. So he decided to go on an adventure. Well, slightly. His curiosity got the better of him, and today he wanted to venture out further into the territory.

He stood up once more, shaking that water that had gathered itself on his haunches. He shivered at the thought of water. The rain didn't bother him, it was just the uncomfortable feeling of the watery grass soaking through his paws and onto his pads. He felt so..well..wet!

There was a chill in the air that sent a shiver down the toms spine. The water was drying quickly from the sun, but as each step progressed upward, the water would once more become a bothersome part of his walk. Step, shake, step, shake, step, wash the paw, and so on. It was all so stupid. But all so beautiful. The glittering grasses, the singing birds, the whispering winds. Ad this land, this was all his own. His clans, at least.

Why he was venturing closer to RiverClans territory? He didn't know. He had no clue. His paws brought him this far, and they weren't really allowing him to turn around. He sighed, and continued on until he caught the scent of the she-cat that was caught with the soft wind. Swallowleaf. His pace turned into his galloping lope, which he liked because the water flew off his paws. He would reach her soon.

[Fernear!]

Behind her the beat of a cantering feline resided. Her ears pricked up to make sure she wasn't dreaming, but no! She was not! The sound was coming closer and closer, each drenched step echoed in her ears like the rumble of a waterfall. Briskly turning her head she could see the body of the cat, and unlike before, she scented him. What made this moment even more blithe, was the fact that this tom was from her clan. She could converse with him without the nagging worry of being attacked.

A smile bloomed loftily on her face and her eyes lit up. They glowed with a passion that was now growing rare in many souls. Twisting her body as well as standing up, this she-cat was now on her way over to the tom herself. Her thin but well toned legs propelled her into a canter herself; her paws were well placed and her strides were wide.

The gap between the pair of felines was shortening with every verse of the ruby birds, but nothing could have felt so prolonged as this dash. Letting her mind slip off shortly, Swallowleaf remembered her last conversation with a cat. It was when Rustlepelt was there. The she-cat didn't know why she had taken a liking to him during that past moon, but she had. She soon wrote it as a naive 'crush'.

But sooner than it had aroused her memory, it had fled, for the silver dappled she-cat had slowed her pace beside the fleet tom. She circled him in the vain hope he would cease his chase. Doing this for a moment made her begin to worry: Perhaps he wasn't looking at me, for me... What if my mind has played another awful trick on me? Oh but he seems so real! Becoming furious at her remarks, she slid her tail over the muscled body. He was real, he was there, but was he looking at her?

The sky was clearing as the wind herded the flock of clouds up north. The southern breeze brought with it the warmth and comfort from its home. The land had changed from discomfort to comfort, dispite their drenched pads. While Swallowleaf had been running she too had collected her fair share of dew; her paws were heavy and cold but this care shrunk compared to her new companion. Swallowleaf dropped her eyes to gaze at his paws, they were wet also. She had not yet looked back at his path nor her's. She had made a terrible mess of the once hidden entrance and would come to smite herself later on; but for now all feelings of anguish and seclusion would be forgotten.

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[c e d a r *]

Amber hues shone as he spotted Swallowleaf. She seemed to be looking..what was that..confused? Out of habit, his paws began to knead the grass underneath hm. He pulled up dirt and made large indentations in the ground. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, calming him to the bone. He was one to get excited fairly quickly and that was one thing that helped him rid his easily excited expression. He kept on a small smile, prodding forward. It was only a short distance.

The grass was dry now. Amazing how quickly the sun could change things. The sun was fairly high in the sky and the day was warming up extremely quickly. He didn't want to run toward Swallowleaf seeing as she was almost right in front of him, but his pace certainly increased. She did know it was him, correct? He wasn't very sure. Keeping his eyes focused ahead of him, the tom weaved his way through the dead grass. Soon it would be lush and green but right now the ground was just beginning to soften.

Hearing a shrill call of a bird above him, the tom looked up, distracted from his wandering. He narrowed his eyes at the sky, watching the large bird - obviously a bird of prey - circling far away from where he was. Shaking himself inwardly, he was about to step forward, but he realized he was right in front of the she-cat. He smiled sheepishly. "Hello, Swallowleaf," the tom meowed quietly, dipping his head. "How are you today?" he asked, remaining polite. He sat down and curled his tail over his paws.

(Sorry it took so long D: I'll tell you what happened on MSN when you're on.)

[Heathclaw]

(Do either of you mind if I jump in?)

Strong paws strode purposefully across the moor, golden eyes gleamed, and long orange fur flashed like fire. Rustlepelt was on the prowl.

Newleaf had come after a long Leaf-bare, and it seemed like everything was in celebration. Flowers bloomed and filled the air with their faint fragrances, and birds could be heard at any time of day.

Rustlepelt stopped and took a deep breath, drinking in the air. He let it out in a contented sigh, closing his eyes and feeling the sun's rays soak his fur while the breeze whipped around his ears. Newleaf was when he felt truly alive, his body bursting with the energy of a younger warrior. Change was coming; he could feel it.

He smiled triumphantly as he reflected onthe past few moons. Dawnthorn was gone. The eccentric tom had just up and left one day, never to return. Rustlepelt only regretted that he didn't get a chance to let that insipid loner know how much he was hated.
With the start of Newleaf, the clans would begin to grow strong again. There would be battles ahead, as clan rubbed against clan. He would do everything in his power to ensure that WindClan came on top.

With that thought in mind, Rustlepelt opened his eyes and bounded forward again, scouting for prey. The Clan needed to be well-fed if it was to stay in top condition. He decided to try the lakeside by the twoleg nest today, and headed off in that direction.

Along the way, his thoughts turned to his son, Heathkit, and he felt the first pricklings of irritation. Heathkit had already reached his twelfth moon, and was growing into a strong young tom, but he had yet to recieve any formal warrior training. Not for the first time, Rustlepelt felt slight annoyance at Rainstar's lax approach towards organization. It would have been better if she had named a deputy after Dawnthorn's departure, but even that task was left undone.

He sighed. There was nothing for it. He'd just have to hope that a deputy was named soon, if not himself, then someone just as qualified.

His ears pricked up as he neared the lakeside, but not to the sounds of prey. Instead, he saw Swallowleaf and another cat chatting by the lakeside. They're supposed to be hunting! thought Rustlepelt in consternation.

"Well, well, what have we here?" asked Rustlepelt in an amused tone of voice as he got within hailing distance. "What are the two of you up to?" He decided to be lenient this time; it was the beginning of Newleaf, after all.