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Post by ronnie on Oct 9, 2010 9:15:05 GMT -5
small shadows rotated at the edge of the trees, the gathering dusk settling on the life within the forest. it looked as though dark tails were curling around the bushes, sucking them in to the heavy silence that was night. even from within the trees the sight of sun down was one that should not be missed. it was beautiful. it was amazing. even the nightly chill couldn't steal away the warmth of that moment. as the sunk sank down, the last purple and golden rays clung to the sky, chased away by the moon as starclan returned to watch over their sleeping descendants below. or perhaps starclan was sleeping now, because in the day the stars were not visible, perhaps, because they were moving. and now starclan had settled, and the icy rays of silverpelt dotted above the trees. dusk was falling quickly now, the days getting shorter as the forest prepared to die. then it would recover in new-leaf. as it always did. as the clans always did.
roanfur always watched the sunset. every since he was an apprentice he had a strange fascination with this time of night. although he hated leaving his clan because anything could happen to bring them harm, he couldn't resist such a wonderful sight. and then it was over, in the blink of an eye. how could something so beautiful stay, after all? roanfur waited for awhile longer, watching the sky grow darker, then he rose, the chill sinking in to his bones, and padded in to the trees. his eyes gleamed in the shadows, as pale as the dull gray clouds on a rainy morning. he didn't head back to camp, though. while he was out here he might as well collect some herbs near the thunderpath. not exactly next to it, as nothing grew near the stinky twoleg fox-hole, but within the trees perhaps several metres away. fox-lengths, in cat language. fortunately the thunderpath was usually silent at night.
not even the monsters want to stay up in the cold, dark silence, he understood. there were the occasional rumbles and rushes, but that was to be expected with such a place. twolegs were evil, but unpredictable. but he couldn't judge. perhaps they thought the same of his own species. there was no way for sure to understand how other creatures thought. ignorance was both a gift and a burden. the patch of celadine was already shrunk and shriveled, dying from the chill of leaf-fall. but some could be spared and brought back to his den for storage and use on his clan mates. they weren't as important as cobwebs or horsetail, but you never knew when a cat would get his or her eyes hurt and would need the juices to soothe the pain. it happened. always expect the unexpected, he had learned. he careful removed the flower head from the stem. the stem was next to useless when it came to healing. gathering celadine was a painstaking process.
keeping the juices from the flower from dripping out was difficult and he needed all he could gather. as carefully as he could, he held the head of the flowers in his jaws, mouth watering as he tasted the sweet flavour of the celadine. very troublesome, just for gathering simple flowers.
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