Post by Roxie ! on Jan 21, 2007 19:33:24 GMT -5
A lithe tom-cat crept along the cliff-side, his blue eyes narrowed in thought. These canyons were a dangerous place to travel normally, but for a WindClanner, the most sure-footed cats in the forest, a place like this was no problem. It even proved a good place to think. Which was exactly what Drover was doing at this moment. It wasn't like there was much else to do. Sleep? Hardly. Although darkness had fallen upon the lands long ago, and it was nearly moon-high now, he just could not sleep. He was too restless, too tense. With not the slightest clue as to why. Drover gave a soft sigh as the cool breeze ruffled his pelt, narrowing his crystal-like eyes against the chilled leaf-bare winds. Even so, no snow lined the cliffs tonight. Just that...overhanging chill that wouldn't leave the air.
Drover padded on, deep in thought. Glimpses of his black-and-white patched pelt could be caught in the moonlight at times, while at others, the tom had slipped into shadow. He didn't really know where he was going at the moment. All he knew was that he needed to get away from things right now. He just...needed some fresh air. And what better place to get it than the steepening cliff-sides of WindClan's prized terrain? With a smirk at this thought, Drover let out a sigh and padded toward the edge of the cliffs.
He had found it. The ideal place to think. Right at the edge of the cliff-side was a large, gray stone. With an easy bound, the slick-bodied tom leaped upon it with the ease of a rabbit leaping through its fields. Drover absently scratched his claws gently against the rock's smooth surface, before sitting down. He stood tall and still, his tail wrapped around his paws. His blue gaze traveled down below, not at all intimidated by the height of the towering canyons, and the roaring river below. He was much more used to the scenery now than when he was a tiny, naive kitty-pet kit, first coming to join the clans. His overwhelming curiosity and awe at the place was now replaced by calm familiarity. Drover had even learned to see beauty in the cliffs and canyons that lined this part of the terrain. He was a true clan-cat now, whatever some others might say. And he couldn't help feeling pride in the fact.
His calm blue gaze never left the river, in reality so roaring and wide, now it seemed like merely a small blue snake that wound through the canyons, its roaring ferocity dimmed to a low rushing sound from here. At last, Drover's gaze left the scenes below, and lifted to the sights above. Silverpelt stretched massively over the canyons. Indeed, WindClan territory had some of the best views of the stars. He gazed up into the ranks of StarClan silently, his gaze unreadable. Drover sat in utter silence. Alone.
Drover padded on, deep in thought. Glimpses of his black-and-white patched pelt could be caught in the moonlight at times, while at others, the tom had slipped into shadow. He didn't really know where he was going at the moment. All he knew was that he needed to get away from things right now. He just...needed some fresh air. And what better place to get it than the steepening cliff-sides of WindClan's prized terrain? With a smirk at this thought, Drover let out a sigh and padded toward the edge of the cliffs.
He had found it. The ideal place to think. Right at the edge of the cliff-side was a large, gray stone. With an easy bound, the slick-bodied tom leaped upon it with the ease of a rabbit leaping through its fields. Drover absently scratched his claws gently against the rock's smooth surface, before sitting down. He stood tall and still, his tail wrapped around his paws. His blue gaze traveled down below, not at all intimidated by the height of the towering canyons, and the roaring river below. He was much more used to the scenery now than when he was a tiny, naive kitty-pet kit, first coming to join the clans. His overwhelming curiosity and awe at the place was now replaced by calm familiarity. Drover had even learned to see beauty in the cliffs and canyons that lined this part of the terrain. He was a true clan-cat now, whatever some others might say. And he couldn't help feeling pride in the fact.
His calm blue gaze never left the river, in reality so roaring and wide, now it seemed like merely a small blue snake that wound through the canyons, its roaring ferocity dimmed to a low rushing sound from here. At last, Drover's gaze left the scenes below, and lifted to the sights above. Silverpelt stretched massively over the canyons. Indeed, WindClan territory had some of the best views of the stars. He gazed up into the ranks of StarClan silently, his gaze unreadable. Drover sat in utter silence. Alone.