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Post by Snowheart on Apr 13, 2007 19:21:19 GMT -5
The pale moon illuminated the dark night as much as could be expected. The moon had seemed to give off much less light than normal; or so the form padding along seemed to think. It would be enough to make a normal cat turn tail and scamper back to their Clan. But the cat that now stood in a field with few trees would no longer turn tail and run from the darkness than it would fear a baby rabbit; it was cat well used to darkness, unconcerned by the dim light of the moon, using its acute senses to conquer whatever stood in its path.
But… was it really an it? Was it a male, or a female? Judging by its slightly small stature, relatively small paws, and smaller-sized face, it could be determined that it was actually a she. The moon’s light cast an eerie, incandescent glow in the area, and a gray fog covered the thick lands. To any normal eye, the she-cat would appear to be a silver colour. But, if any cat would remember their own surroundings, they would note that the gray tint would make her appear darker. In the daylight, she was a white cat with silver markings. But did the prey that she hunted care about their captor’s outside?
The sky was covered by a blanket of black; no stars would light the path of this warrior on such a night. But the cat that stalked the prey was not just a flat cone of a cat, boring in every sense; no, she was unique, and she had her history. And any cat that met in the shrubbery would know her by her blue eyes that were very unique, something as unique as a pawprint, or even a birthmark. That the prey would care about her eyes would be very unusual.
The she-cat placed her paws on the slightly soft ground, careful not to rustle the leaves that had fallen in the past few days. She stepped over twigs lightly, bounded over a rock or two, and yet the prey never knew she was every there. She made sure to place herself upwind from the rabbit she desired to catch. They had never been her favorite, though the white rabbits did look regal and peaceful, a bit like she when faced with her own reflection; but Snowheart was not a haughty cat, so whether or not she appeared beautiful to others, it was the inside- her duty and loyalty- that mattered most to the Clan, or, so it should. She only hunted the rabbit because she desired to bring her son back something other than the limp and thin rabbits he had been eating.
The she-cat made a sharp turn to the left, putting her on a collision course with the pool. But she knew how to play her cards well, and she wasn’t going to settle for fish, if there were any in the pool; she had her mind on a plump, juicy rabbit. She stalked downtoward the pond and then took another sharp turn, bringing her to the outside of a rabbit burrow. She was doing well at this game of poker. She lowered herself to the ground and stalked around a tree. She knew about the habits of rabbits; she had watched them on several occasions. And now, her patience had paid off. Downwind, she caught the scent of the approaching prey. She made a valiant leap over a fallen tree-trunk and slapped one paw out at the rabbit, claws unsheathed. The first blow paralyzed the poor thing, and with a devastating bite, the rabbit had lost the game. Snowheart: 1; rabbit: 0.
Still, the she-cat could not turn tail and leave just yet. Yes, she had taken the route to the woods to hunt for a rabbit, which she had done successfully. But her "son" would not eat the prey until the next morning, meaning that Snowheart had that much more time to get back. Judging by the moon, she had plenty of time to spare. The she-cat could not turn tail and leave just yet; Windclan had become relatively smaller, and the few cats they had needed to be fresh for the morning patrols. She was the only one to take up a night of hunting, and she couldn’t just parade into camp with a mere count of one rabbit. She reversed her directed and sped off towards the pool. While not crawling with fish, it would provide an adequate amount of minnows. With three or four more pieces of prey, she would have enough of a haul to take home.
She approached the edge of the pool, and, knowing that nothing would catch the sight of her shadow on account of the dark night, she had no other objections to glancing at her reflection in the pond. That one glance of herself was enough to pull herself away from the fall in shock, for when she had glanced into the large basin of water, she had not seen herself; rather, she had seen the reflection of her two siblings- Flowerpaw and Treepaw, the pair that left Windclan over a year ago, for a reason yet unknown. But as the spectral figure of Snowheart lifted her head in all hopes to see the completion of an old trio of siblings, the glimmer of hope faded; her mind had tricked her… yet again.
Trying to push the overwhelming uncertainties that occurred whenever she began to ponder why she had lived that one fateful night when so many of her other siblings had not, she decidedly took on a new challenge- catching a frog. Surely it would ease her mind, such a challenge. If only a friend, a companion, were there to help. [/font]
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Post by `Flightfeather on Apr 14, 2007 9:47:07 GMT -5
The grass barely rustled as another cat passed through it, crouching low to keep her pale striped pelt from showing up in the blanketing darkness. Of course there was nothing to fear; she was in her own Clan's territory after all. But cats are, by nature, silent invisible hunters, and this cat was no exception even if she wasn't a fighter or hunter. Her instinct told her it was always better to stay hidden.
Opening her jaws slightly, the medicine cat tilted her head to scent the air. With the ease of long practice, she picked out the odours that came to her - the natural windy smell of the moor and the long grass, the hint of prey a little way off, and there - the plant she was looking for.
Water mint was wonderful for treating bellyache. Its sweet scent was easily recognizable and coming from the little pool nestled over there.
Flightfeather quickened her steps eagerly. She really needed to stock up on those herbs. Bad weather was coming; any cat could see the signs of drought without a vision from StarClan.
Reaching the clump of herbs, the she-cat crouched over them and opened her mouth and inhaled. The cool, minty scent washed over her; a purr rumbled in her throat.
A quiet plop made her head go up, keen forest-coloured eyes scanning the water. There were frogs. And there - on the other side of the pool-
Relieved, she let out the breath she'd sucked in when she spotted the other cat. Flightfeather was no great warrior. She hated to fight and mercifully, there was no need to.
"Snowheart! Isn't it a lovely night?"
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Post by Snowheart on Apr 14, 2007 12:44:41 GMT -5
The deputy spun around; her heart could be heard in her ears. Heartbeat.[/i] How could she allow herself to be so vunerable? What if it were an enemy? What if they were foe? Heartbeat.[/i] Was she in danger? Were there others? Was this a rogue? Heartbeat.[/i]
Then the gently voice drifted through her ears. "Snowheart! Isn't it a lovely night?" Heartbeat.[/i] Slowly, her blood pressure lowered. Her heart began to stop thudding in her chest. Her paws no longer felt like lead stones, and her head no longer was filled with questions. Slowly, she placed paw in front of paw as she made her way over to the medicine cat of the Clan. Reaching Flightfeather, she dipped her head in respect- this was a cat deserving of it. She raised her head and smiled to her friend. "Flightfeather." It was the simpliest word of acknowledgment that she could have uttered, and she so chose to utter it. Her pulse was still high, partially because she had lost trust for most cats. Had not her whole family been torn from her? Did not the one cat that now seemed to matter most lose what was dear to him because of the trustless rogues that Snowheart held only comtempt for?
But the cat before her was not foe, and Snowheart had a deep truth in Flightfeather. Her faith in the medicine cat had not been disappointed- was she not the cat that saved so many lives not moons ago when the coughs had hit? Was it not said cat that had befriending the aching heart of Snowheart's when she lost the dear family she had? A smile graced her maw- not one of hapiness, but the kind that friend gives anotehr when they are really in pain. It was that kind of smile that masked disappointment and sadness, the kind that eased the worries of a friend.
"Flightfeather, what are you doing out here so late at night? It's unlike you to journey to far alone, is it not? You are too important to the Clan to risk it all to get herbs at night. Could you not have sent someone not nearly so dear to grab the herbs?" A slight chuckle ensued her statement. She was referring to own self, being out so late, alone, at night.
She let out a sigh as she looked over her friend- so light and bubbly, so happy amist the world of pain. How much did Flightfeather remind Snowheart of her own sister, Featherpaw? But Featherpaw had disappeared long ago, and only did the reflections keep her memory alive. "Are you not tired? You should be getting your rest this time of night, you know. Bellyaches may start going around, and we wouldn't want you to get one. Our medicine cat must keep herself healthy, you know." Another chuckle. Why could she only chuckle? Oh yah, she wasn't very happy. So she chuckled. Was she really that predictable?[/SIZE][/color][/font]
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Post by `Flightfeather on Apr 15, 2007 2:22:09 GMT -5
A long purr vibrated through the pale tabby's body, bubbling up from the depths of her heart. She had many, many friends and loved ones, but Snowheart was special.
Yes, they were so different. Yes, her friend had gone through unimaginable pain that no cat should ever have to experience - pain Flightfeather herself would, StarClan forbid, never have to experience.
But still. Snowheart was very special to her. With a playful glint in her eye, she mewed, "Not nearly so dear, my friend? Oh, I wouldn't say that."
There was something that disturbed her, though. Flicking her ears, she wondered if the other cat's smile was genuine. She knew Snowheart more than well enough to realise that the wounds left by the loss of the deputy's family had never healed. It was, a medicine cat's job, after all, to understand her Clanmates, and to treat wounds - physical or otherwise. She was worried for her friend. Had tragedy left a permanant scar on Snowheart's gentle soul?
I will be strong for her. I believe that she will recover, one day
"And Snowheart, silly, I'm not risking anything! We are in WindClan territory, and the warriors - and you - are doing a fine job of keeping intruders off our land. And of course no cat of the Clans would ever harm a medicine cat. My dear deputy, you worry too much." The words could have been sharp as claws, but the affectionate tone and the smile in Flightfeather's eyes softened them. "I couldn't sleep, and I do need to stock up on those herbs. Maybe I should get an apprentice."
She wasn't really aware of how hollow Snowheart's laugh was. That was surely the medicine cat's blind spot if she had one - she was too easily fooled by a smile and a purr, too innocent, in a way, even after knowing what her friend had gone through, to fully understand how grief can change a cat.
But her friendship with the silvery she-cat was genuine, sure as rocks were rocks and water mint was water mint.
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Post by Whitestar on Apr 15, 2007 2:38:38 GMT -5
BlackfangBlackfang
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Post by Snowheart on Apr 15, 2007 9:28:29 GMT -5
"And Snowheart, silly, I'm not risking anything! We are in WindClan territory, and the warriors - and you - are doing a fine job of keeping intruders off our land. And of course no cat of the Clans would ever harm a medicine cat. My dear deputy, you worry too much." Snowheart repeated her friend's purr and let out a true smile. But as Snowheart's words and thoughts become known, the mood became more somber for the she-cat, and the smile ceased. "Flightfeather, you are risking your life to be out here. We may be in Windclan, but it is not intruders I worry about. You could handle any cat- you are as strong as any warrior in this Clan. Starclan guides your path. It is not clan cats that I worry about, and the rogues lay dormant, and for good reason. They have Windclan to fear, and they will not so easily attack us after the demise of two of their companions. But again, I worry not about them. Foxes are my fear. You know what happened; no one is exempt from the wrath of a fox; not a leader, deputy, or medicine cat. Not a queen or an elder. Not even a kit, with no chance to have lived their potential, is exempt from those deadly claws, those malicious eyes, that noise of hatred they emit as if we are nothing and they are all that matter. Those creatures full of scorn have no idea what they have taken from this Clan!" But the she-cat that spoke the words, so blinded by rage, was not even thinking as she drew back and hissed at Blackfang. She unsheathed her claws and whipped around, controlled by the rage of those creatures. And at the moment, so delusioned by the pain that withheld her joyful spirit, she leaped to the side, nearing Blackfang, still seeing him as the being that destroyed her life and family.
And if it weren't for his string of words, she would have likely attacked him that moment, and one of the two would have been wounded. And that's what she feared. She did not fear death; she feared the pain, the suffering. She feared the agony her siblings must have felt, being torn in half, bleeding their last drops of blood onto the cold, unforgiving grass that they would never touch with their delicate paws again. She despised suffering so much that she often caused herself to suffer. Could not this she-cat control these emotions? No. She had too much hate for foxes, a hatred that would never be soothed until it came down to a fight to the death. She didn't desire revenge, but until vengeance for her siblings came, that anger and hatred would never cease to exist. She would harbor it, cultivate it, until it was unleashed in a last ditch effort to make the being suffer that had cost her and her Clan so much. That would be the day she could smile and have real joy. That would be the day she would smile and every being would know she was happy. That would be the day she could frolic through the fields with Flightfeather, or Blackfang, or another Clan-mate and know that nothing in the world would be able to make her sad. But that could only happen when the fox had paid its dues, and, alas, that fox had never again reared its ugly, distorted, snarling, hateful, disturbed head. And when that battle came, one of the two beings in that battle would die, and the other would hold its revenge- or another victim- forever. But the winner of that battle was unknown to all. Would brute strength or blind rage take the win?
The she-cat shook her head in attempt to see straight. A violent shudder shook her to the core. She closed her eyes as tightly as possible, then opened them. Where was she? She... she was near the pool. Flightfeather was there... Blackfang was there... she had killed a rabbit... What had she been doing? The fox.. the hatred... It began to sink in what had just overtaken her- the screeches of fury; she had succumbed to her anger. And now, what was she to say? Blackfang, I'm sorry I almost tried to kill you. No, that wouldn't work. Flightfeather, uh... I'm perfectly fine. Don't worry. That would just be stupid.
So, with nothing to properly say about it, why not just ignore it? Maybe they didn't see; maybe they weren't paying attention. Maye she could cover for herself... Oh...!
"Sorry about that Blackfang. I-I thought that, well, that, um..." She gulped and lowered her head in shame for a moment before raising it to look in his eyes. Heartbeat. "Um.. I was out here... and I caught a rabbit, and, heh... I came to fish, and was talking to Flightfeather, who wanted to get some mint, and, uh... Hi." Okay, so she was nervous. And confused. And... why was she pouring out some lame cover-up story- even if it was true- to Blackfang. She owed him no explanation... well, she didn't before. After nearly ripping his head off, well, he deserved to know something.
She took a step closer toward him, hoping he wouldn't flinch away from her. She didn't mean to snap at him. It wasn't her fault... was it? She shook her head again before speaking. "I almost attacked you out of blind rage. How much does the Clan need that? I-I-I... I thought you were..." gulp "I thought you were a fox." It's a good thing it's dark out here... My face's hotter and redder than... oh, nevermind! But the white-silver she-cat still wondered why she felt like she had to explain her whole night to the tom. She knew she owed him an explanation about almost attacking him, but that's wasn't all. She didn't have to explain all of that to him just because of that one moment of rage. It's not like I like him or anything. Well, it's not that I don't, but, not like that. I like him as a Clan-mate, er, well, not mate. I like him as a friend, an acquaintance, a companion. So why did I explain everything to him? And her thoughts only made her turn redder beneath her clean, untainted fur.[/font] ||Wasn't planning on making her go crazy like that, lol. I better have her fight that fox soon...^^ Or just make her calm down. ||
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Post by `Flightfeather on Apr 16, 2007 8:52:46 GMT -5
Flightfeather watched her friend, whiskers twitching. Padding forward, she rubbed her cheek lightly against Snowheart's shoulder. Medicine cats were, of course, not allowed to take mates, but this medicine cat was not entirely ignorant. Delivering kits - and all the understanding that entailed - was part of her job.
She could see, though, that not all of her friend's agitation was caused by Blackfang. There were far more serious matters underpaw. The deputy was not high-strung and did not lose her temper easily; she was a keen hunter and it was uncharacteristic for her to mistake a cat for a fox. Her hatred for that member of the vulpine family must be fierce and heated as fire indeed.
Hate's bad for a cat. It rots you from the inside out.
All these thoughts went through the she-cat's mind in a matter of moments.
"I know how you feel about foxes, Snowheart," she murmured quietly. "Something's going to blow if you keep on like this."
She knew that in a twisted way, her friend knew this already. ...does the Clan need that? Her fury and anger was affecting her life in more than one way. She wasn't even trying to hide it now; Flightfeather probably would not have noticed it if she had.
Her eyes gleaming, she turned to the warrior and greeted him with a dip of the head. "Blackfang, hello! We're glad to see you, I'm sure." She nudged Snowheart mischievously, laughter in her expression.
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Post by Whitestar on Apr 18, 2007 4:39:19 GMT -5
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Post by Snowheart on Apr 18, 2007 18:37:59 GMT -5
The she-cat bent her front right paw up and lowered her head as he stepped forward to nuzzle her. As much as she wished to welcome to embrace, she felt like it was a mistake for her to accept. Much as she liked him- he was a great warrior, loyal and dedicated- she didn't know if she liked him like that. Whether it was a crush, or just a desire for someone big to stand beside her, to make her seem safe, to make her small form cast a large shadow, she couldn't tell just yet. Her heart told her that she wanted to spend time with him, to talk with him, to get to know him better, but her mind told her no. Her mind told her it wasn't the time; things would be complicated if she were to try and get to know someone well enough to be their friend. But I'm friends with Flightfeather. Not that kind of friend. Her mind argued. But her heart ached for something more than just Flightfeather's companionship. She loved her friend dearly, and would trust her until the end of times; she would do anything for her. But she wanted a cat that had no implications to the Clan so greatly as Flightfeather. She wanted a warrior that she could tell her fears, worries, and joys; she wanted a friend that would read her fake smile, know it was fake, and not say a word, just simply be there. She would never forget Flightfeather as a friend; no, Flightfeather was her first and best friend, and always would be. But could her medicine cat friend be on patrol with her, day and night? Could she fight with her to the death for a cause that Snowheart would always feel drawn- to rid the forest of the crazed beasts that destroyed the she-cat's young, innocent soul? Another reason she felt drawn to Blackfang- he could understand her pain. But Flightfeather was too valuable to the clan to wander out at night recklessly; Snowheart could do as she pleased, and with Blackfang by her side, she would always feel safe.
And she decided at that moment to do what her mother had always told her to- listen to her heart. It wouldn't hurt if I became friends with him... She placed her paw back on solid ground and inched toward him, letting him know that she accepted, welcomed, his nuzzle, though she didn't know the best way to go about it. So she stopped and merely did nothing, waiting to see what he could do; whatever he liked her or not was still questionable to her, and she would only admit that she thought she could like him as a friend, a confident- one she needed, that understood her anger and pain. And if was the tom that could be her confident, so be it.
But as she began to think, she slightly drew away; where would this lead? What would ensue? She didn't know the answer, and it scared her. She lifted her clear eyes to the sky, looking for answers, when the one cat that might be able to help her popped into her heart. Bloodrose! She mouthed silently. Surely such a wise, pure being as she could help her. Surely she would have guidance. But being in different clans made it a hard friendship to maintain.
Finally deciding it best to make some notion to Flightfeather, she turned to glance at her friend, giving her a look of thanks. "Yes," her voice called softly, first directed at Flightfeather, but, as her head turned, to be directed at Blackfang, she finished her statement, "We are glad to see you."
Deciding not to seem to be just an unmoving lump, she padded over to the pond, calming herself every step, regulating her breathing. "I came out here to hunt and think. I already caught a rabbit for this morning." She motioned to the rabbit a few fox lengths away. "I was thinking about catching some minnows, but I thought a frog would be more interesting. Care to help me?" Her voice was meant for both Flightfeather and Blackfang to hear, though her face had now been turned away from them.
"I know it won't feed the Clan, but maybe it is the kind of fun and relief one needs. Besides, a good, early morning hunting patrol will be able to take care of the food problem. If only they could solve the heat..."[/font]
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Post by `Flightfeather on Apr 19, 2007 5:52:27 GMT -5
The healer blinked her grass-green eyes, looking from one cat to the other, sensing some hidden chemistry that a medicine cat was forbidden to ever experience. She didn't begrudge them, though; she had plenty of love and care from her friends and Clan and didn't see why it had to culmulate in mates and kits.
With the innate emotional intelligence that StarClan had gifted her with, she saw clearly that Snowheart had reached some decision. She didn't know what it was, but it was enough to know that it gave her friend peace.
Silently, Flightfeather wished the deputy luck and blessings with her newfound companion. It would do Snowheart good, and probably Blackfang as well.
Then she laughed at herself, inwardly. Nothing's happened yet, medicine cat. You don't even know if they're going to grow closer.
With a bright, blithe smile at both cats, she gestured with her long tail towards the pool. "Hunt on, warriors. The water mint won't pick itself. I've got to stock up on herbs, before the drought comes and the water dries up..."
Her voice trailed off as she momentarily considered the consequences of the recent parched weather. Sooner or later, trouble was coming. It came even if you didn't look for it.
Shaking her head, she nodded to the deputy and warrior and padded towards the precious water mint.
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Post by Whitestar on Apr 20, 2007 10:05:52 GMT -5
A long sigh withdrew from Blackheart's throat. He wanted Snowheart to be happy, but he didn't want himself to interfere with her biddings. It was wrong for a warrior to feel for a deputy. He was to protect his clan, and he wouldn't let this feeling get in his way. Was it love? He couldn't describe love. Was love just a feeling, a lust for the opposite gender or even the same? Was it just that, lust, merely nothing more? Was it a label ...? Dear god. Why hadn't his mentor told him this before he was torn apart before his eyes? He was filled with so many questions that he felt dazed and confused. Did he even have feelings for Snowheart? Certainly, Flightfeather could tell him some thing about this. But, what would she know about love? She couldn't let love interfere with her medicines, and if she ever did have kits, she would have to turn them away to some one else. He felt this embarassment when ever he was around Snowheart, and felt the need to move away when he was around her.
He felt .. submissive. He felt lesser. He had to follow the rules that Starclan had set before him. Slowly he drew away, departing from her safe and warm exterior. He didn't want to leave her side, though. He wanted to stay right there with here for ever, but he didn't know if it was just his warrior instincts or what they call 'love'. He snorted and slammed his paw down on the nearest thing, and straightened his form as a warrior. This was the path he chose, and this was the path he would lead -- forever.
He immediately moved to Snowheart's side, although a few feet away.
He was confirmed of his feelings now. He would express his feelings soon, but could he actually do it? He cleared his thoughts as a smile graced Snowheart's features. He looked down. She was faking her smile partly, but smiling honestly on the other part. Snowheart was miserable.
"Yeah. Sounds fun." He said softly.
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Post by Snowheart on Apr 20, 2007 19:01:02 GMT -5
|| I never knew that. ^^ Post coming. ||
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Post by Whitestar on Apr 20, 2007 20:01:10 GMT -5
(( Well, it might not be, but he doesn't know that. xD ))
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Post by Snowheart on Apr 20, 2007 20:23:35 GMT -5
||^^ I didn't think it was. Because Bluestar and Oakheart were in love, which was only wrong because they were in different Clans [and they had kits that they weren't supposed to] and Firestar has Sandstorm as a mate, and he 'tis leader. ^^||
But the soft reply did nothing to quell the unease that had settled in Snowheart's stomach. It seemed to her that as soon as he had moved closer to her, he had drawn away, and she desperately hated it. Though the weather was much warmer, she felt the shivers running up and down her spine; it had nothing to do with the dull breeze shifting the pool's waters, or even the swift wind that occasionally graced the open fields. She shivered because of emotions; they had become a physical part of her, the thumping of her heart, the shivers of her spine, the smile on her face -and occasionally the lack of one- were all dependent upon emotions that she seemingly had little control over.
Another odd feeling- one of remorse and pity- arose within her as Blackfang slammed his paw down. Why was he angered? Was he, too, controlled by rage? Was he lacking a true companion to whom he could tell his secrets? But before she could ask about his well-beings, she was evident of Flightfeather excusing herself to go pick water mint. Feeling bad about not saying much to her friend, she turned her attention to Flightfeather for another moment. "Don't wonder off too far, now. You're valuable to the Clan, and it may still be dangerous out here, if you're alone."
Then she turned back to Blackfang. "Yeah. Sounds fun." But another thought crossed her mind. Fun? Does he mean that? Or... does he just want me to be happy? Surely her mind was tricking her into fantasies in which she was cared for. But perhaps because she had lost most of her family- and the love, protection, and care that was lost also- she desired to be cared for in the present.
She moved a fox length closer to Blackfang. "So... any ideas on how to catch a frog?" And then she let out a smile- a real smile- at the thought of them trying to catch a frog.[/font]
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Post by `Flightfeather on Apr 20, 2007 20:26:40 GMT -5
((I shan't post for a bit because I'm not relevant right now ^^ Don't want to spoil the moment with descriptions of Flighty picking water mint!))
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