Post by noctemq on Dec 13, 2018 3:45:02 GMT
Black of Moonless Night lashed his dark tail from side to side in frustration. Only a second ago, he was accompanying a prey-hunter across the narrow pass across Swiftwater. He often found himself as the choice cat for this location since he had saved his tribe mates a few times from falling into the rapid streams below; it must've been often enough since sometimes cats would joke that his name should've been "Claws that Catch Hunters". Under his gruff and often expressionless exterior. Black actually found the jokes quite amusing. With a huff, he sat atop a stepping stone and craned his neck upwards, which wasn't too much help due to his bulky, untribe-like build. Where did that prey-hunter go? He knew they were quick, but this had to be some sort of new record high.
The tom looked back to see if the rest of the hunting party had decided to wait. His amber eyes found no cats on the other side of Swiftwater, which only heightened his sense of urgency. Hopefully, they'd all be able to meet up before returning to Stomehome together to avoid a "missing cat" situation. Black tried his best to keep drama and stress low for his tribe-mates by putting said burdens upon his own shoulders, with this situation just being another example. Especially since this hunting party decided to try out Swiftwater, the tribe would be more worried if one was to suddenly disappear; Black hoped that they were just around some shrub that blocked his vision instead of drowning in the icy cold current. The thought of falling in just made him dig his claws even deeper into the moss-covered rock he was standing on.
"Hey, is everything alright?" He called out, a tinge of worry making his voice uncharacteristically show emotion. Black's scarred ears swiveled around, waiting for a response. "If you're playing around, this isn't funny." Now was not the time for a game, especially since this area was so risky to be in. The tom might've humored some fun with a few kits in Stonehome, but nothing more.
The tom looked back to see if the rest of the hunting party had decided to wait. His amber eyes found no cats on the other side of Swiftwater, which only heightened his sense of urgency. Hopefully, they'd all be able to meet up before returning to Stomehome together to avoid a "missing cat" situation. Black tried his best to keep drama and stress low for his tribe-mates by putting said burdens upon his own shoulders, with this situation just being another example. Especially since this hunting party decided to try out Swiftwater, the tribe would be more worried if one was to suddenly disappear; Black hoped that they were just around some shrub that blocked his vision instead of drowning in the icy cold current. The thought of falling in just made him dig his claws even deeper into the moss-covered rock he was standing on.
"Hey, is everything alright?" He called out, a tinge of worry making his voice uncharacteristically show emotion. Black's scarred ears swiveled around, waiting for a response. "If you're playing around, this isn't funny." Now was not the time for a game, especially since this area was so risky to be in. The tom might've humored some fun with a few kits in Stonehome, but nothing more.