Post by Whitestar on Apr 10, 2007 5:07:45 GMT -5
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The she-cat's paws lightly dipped forwards and then raised forward and grazed her chest in a delicate, graceful movement. Out of bounds of her Camp, rarely was the she-cat ever seen slinking around other lands, how ever, with Darkstar's demented neighboring clan, she was on a look out. All rogues and things from other clans, or even bipeds, which were mysterious, hairless felines, could be a possible threat for all the kits in the clan. A new clan, a new generation .. the smell of the world passed through her nasals. She slowed her pace into a small trot, then stopped at the slippery, muddy bank she had known to be her home. She put a careful, lithe paw forward, curved talons gripping the dark soil, then another, the rapid current barely touching her digits. The forest and water seemed to calm, but it was no different then what it was before. This is what she loved about her home, protecte by a large, rapid river with a strong current that could easily sleep an unexperienced feline to it's death. There was another path into her home and lands of Riverclan. How ever, it was even more dangerous than trying to cross a river. Green eyes stared at the clear water flecked with silver from the fish. Then, slowly, she slid into the stinging, rushing water.
The water slapped at her pelt and engulfed her spine, but she kept her head high; tail elegantly raised like a flag from the water. She let the pounding water push her down stream, because knowing a struggle could kill a lone cat. Whitestar's paws paddled forward, finally touching the safety of land. Claws unsheathed, she dug into the earth. If land could speak, it would be screaming mercy. Hind legs gripped the muddy sides, then she rose and slipped onto the green, fine layered grace. Shaking her wettened, damp pelt, and then observed the lands. Sigh. She crawled to a tree, and lifted her hind leg, a relevant stream rushing down the bark. Shaking her leg once or twice, she shook her head as a wave of her own scent rushed past.
She slid into her lands, weaving about. Ah, how she loved her lands.
[/glow]The water slapped at her pelt and engulfed her spine, but she kept her head high; tail elegantly raised like a flag from the water. She let the pounding water push her down stream, because knowing a struggle could kill a lone cat. Whitestar's paws paddled forward, finally touching the safety of land. Claws unsheathed, she dug into the earth. If land could speak, it would be screaming mercy. Hind legs gripped the muddy sides, then she rose and slipped onto the green, fine layered grace. Shaking her wettened, damp pelt, and then observed the lands. Sigh. She crawled to a tree, and lifted her hind leg, a relevant stream rushing down the bark. Shaking her leg once or twice, she shook her head as a wave of her own scent rushed past.
She slid into her lands, weaving about. Ah, how she loved her lands.