Break of Dawn [open] Jan 1, 2012 15:27:15 GMT -6
Post by Semper on Jan 1, 2012 15:27:15 GMT -6
Well-groomed, midnight fur rippled as the warrior stretched, flexing his claws and yawning. Warm breath left his parted jaws as he breathed, creating little clouds in the crisp, early morning air. Sunlight chased away the darkness of the night, casting a pale glow over the landscape that most would not consider beautiful. However, as Hiddenheart looked around the familiar clearing that housed ShadowClan's camp, he could see a different beauty in it, something cats of a different clan could never appreciate. A light frost dusted the ground and brambles surrounding the camp glittered as the sunlight struck them.[/size]
But the quality that the quiet ShadowClan warrior appreciated the most was the silence that came with dawn. Most birds, though they were not nearly as common as the song birds he heard resided in ThunderClan's forest, started their songs right at the break of day. However, if he listened hard, he always thought that he heard--or rather, did not hear--a split-second of silence, perhaps more, before they began to sing. Within the camp itself, no kits ran and tumbled about, ending up underfoot. Even most the warriors and eager apprentices still slept in their den, not to wake until the sun had risen a little higher. The early ones, such as himself, tended to talk in low voices, as if not wanting to disturb the early morning peace, or go off to hunt on his own, as Hiddenheart considered doing.
Casting an amber eyed glance to the prey pile, Hiddenheart noticed that it was fairly well stocked, considering that it was leaf-bare. However, that was not a reason to not leave camp. Though he enjoyed hunting and the challenge that sometimes came with it, as no two catches were ever the same, the ebony tom also valued wandering ShadowClan's territory. Muddy as it may be, it had been his home even before he was born, and he had learned to appreciate it when other cats may hardly spare it a glance.
After a brief hesitation, the tom turned his gaze away from the pile and directed his paws out the entrance of the camp. The sunlight slowly chased away the shadows of the night, and though he made a habit of skulking in them, Hiddenheart could live without. Anyway, it was likely that he was the only cat up, or one of a few; with a territory as large as ShadowClan's, it was unlikely that he would run into another cat. He had no reason to hide, not that he ever did, of course. As he padded along, Hiddenheart noted with slight interest that he had woken in a particularly good mood. Perhaps he would tolerate a conversation with a cat, should he stumble upon one; if that cat was lucky, he or she may actually see genuine interest in the fairly secretive warrior. For a tom having grown up in ShadowClan, surrounded by his clanmates, Hiddenheart knew that most did not know a lot about him; this did not bother him, in fact he appreciated the fact half the time.
But now, Hiddenheart mused as he looked around the landscape, which appeared lacking in any feline except himself, Now, I might welcome a conversation. An intellectual one of course, for decent conversations--ones consisting of something other than small talk--are hard to come by.