(ó ì_í)=óò=(ì_í ò)}
ѕ т σ я м ѕ т α я ; ;
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stormstar
leader of boulderclan; eight lives
38 moons old
alone
Two brightly colored eyes fluttered open. The silver tabby whose eyes flickered around was breathing heavily. For a split heartbeat, the tom couldn't remember where he was, or who he was, but as soon as the familiar clan scent filled his den, he knew exactly where he was. And who he was too. Stormstar lifted himself onto his tiny paws, not hesitating to inch his way towards the narrow den exit. Even though to most warriors in his clan, it would hug their fur close to their bodies. Luckily for Stormstar, his whiskers barely brushed the sides of the brief exit. Immediately the husky scent of mist and water vapor overwhelmed the tom, but the silence was even worse. His eyes immediately fell on the tortoiseshell she-cat, who was making her way into the warriors den, then her bright yellow eyes shone from the dark den. Unsure if she had noticed him, the silver tabby tom greeted her from a distance, a nod. He quickly shook the droplets seeping to his skin, sending them flying to the ground.
ѕ α η ∂ ω ι ѕ ρ ; ;
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sandwisp
senior warrior of seaclan
30 moons old
alone
The white smudged ginger she-cat bathed in the shallows of the ocean. Rolling around playfully as if she was a kit again. How much she wished was beyond what words could explain. Treading over to shore, her head swung up to check the sky, which was grey and muggy, tiny drops of precipitation fell from it, one barely missing her dull blue eyes which kind of resembled the sky, at the moment at least. The scent of the soggy rain almost over powered the salty aroma of the ocean water that covered most of her body. Gladly, she lifted her right paw and with a few swift licks, absorbed the saline taste of the beautiful water. Looking back at the camp, no cat stirred or was visible, not counting herself. One thing that was visible to the she-cat was the fresh-kill pile, almost empty except for four pieces, too far ahead to completely identify. Rotating her head back to the horizon line, stepping stones close, she chose to hunt before anyone could interrupt. Wadding her way towards the closest bulging stone, the ginger and white she-cat heaved herself onto the rock and leapt lightly farther out, making sure not to disturb the probably dozing fish. Carefully and quietly, she spotted one, and waited for the right time to ambush.
g o l d e n h e a r t ; ;
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goldenheart
medicine cat
12 moons old
alone
Still silently napping.
