Post by Silentheart on Feb 21, 2011 9:14:49 GMT -6
Bright eyes stared across the moor, never waving. These eyes were normally lively, prideful, filled with an ego unmatched by any other cat. These eyes were dark now- dangerous, hatred and grief turning them to predator eyes. Long claws sank deep into the springy moor grass, tearing at it, the tom's teeth grinding together, fur threatening to bristle. Breezechaser wasn't bipolar, or schizophrenic, for his eyes were locked toward ThunderClan's territory.
When he was a kit, he had a horrible ordeal involving ThunderClan cats. Attacked by an apprentice, its mentor soon showing up and aiding his young clanmate, Breezechaser was certain he would die by their claws, and he probably would have, had not his mother shown up and fended them off. He would later learn, at such a young age, sorrow, and loss. His mother died saving him, and he forever hated ThunderClan for that.
An icy wind ruffled the WindClan tom's fur, cooling off the heated rage that burned under his fur, and with a deep sigh, he retracted his claws, buried his emotions, and returned to his normal ploy. Looking around exuberantly, for a rabbit, he soon realized again, there were none. He hadn't found a rabbit in the last two days, in fact, only one lucky warrior had, and it had instantly been divided among those who couldn't hunt, and a scrawny one caught this morning was given to the warriors. With the renewed hope at even a morsel of food, Breezechaser had set out immediately to try to hunt, and see what he could find, but unless the clan could live on moor grass, and the snow that was starting to fall again from the sky, then there was no food.
Groaning, the long-legged tom wished he had an apprentice, something else to do instead of growing miserable with nothing to do than search the moorland for rabbits that no longer were there. He began to walk slowly, but never lowering his guard, ears pricked, constantly checking for any scent that may give away a rabbit, but the cold air burned his nose, snow masking any left over scents, and he shook himself. He was foolish for searching, especially while the snow fell, but determination characterized this tom, and he wouldn't go back to camp until he caught something- and until he was certain that his emotions were fully in check.
When he was a kit, he had a horrible ordeal involving ThunderClan cats. Attacked by an apprentice, its mentor soon showing up and aiding his young clanmate, Breezechaser was certain he would die by their claws, and he probably would have, had not his mother shown up and fended them off. He would later learn, at such a young age, sorrow, and loss. His mother died saving him, and he forever hated ThunderClan for that.
An icy wind ruffled the WindClan tom's fur, cooling off the heated rage that burned under his fur, and with a deep sigh, he retracted his claws, buried his emotions, and returned to his normal ploy. Looking around exuberantly, for a rabbit, he soon realized again, there were none. He hadn't found a rabbit in the last two days, in fact, only one lucky warrior had, and it had instantly been divided among those who couldn't hunt, and a scrawny one caught this morning was given to the warriors. With the renewed hope at even a morsel of food, Breezechaser had set out immediately to try to hunt, and see what he could find, but unless the clan could live on moor grass, and the snow that was starting to fall again from the sky, then there was no food.
Groaning, the long-legged tom wished he had an apprentice, something else to do instead of growing miserable with nothing to do than search the moorland for rabbits that no longer were there. He began to walk slowly, but never lowering his guard, ears pricked, constantly checking for any scent that may give away a rabbit, but the cold air burned his nose, snow masking any left over scents, and he shook himself. He was foolish for searching, especially while the snow fell, but determination characterized this tom, and he wouldn't go back to camp until he caught something- and until he was certain that his emotions were fully in check.
