Post by Deleted on May 29, 2018 16:41:52 GMT -5
Frog legs
template by punki of adoxography
MALE | gay | taken | 23 moons
i am not throwing away my shot!
The sky was growing darker by the second, giving the clan a sense of time. It was going to be night. But, there will be no stars in the sky. No moon. No crickets chirping in the grass. Only fear. Fear of how much longer this storm will last. A shred of hope. Hope to survive another day. To defeat the hunger that gnawed at the stomach, to rid the mind of hopeless thoughts, to find faith that Starclan was still watching over them. For all the clans knew, they were being punished by the gods.
Inside the warrior's den, Froglegs lay peacefully, huddled up close to his mate, Fallenfox. His flank rose and fell steadily, and his paws flicked as he slept. The wind that howled outside brought snowflakes into the den, which soon melted. Though it was as cold as ice outside, the warrior's den was bearable. It wasn't too cold, but it definitely wasn't a cozy, nice warmth like new-leaf. But, it was better than freezing everyone's asses off.
Froglegs was jerked awake by a sharp kick in the rib. He looked around and realized that Fallenfox, his own mate had done it. Rolling his eyes, he gave the tom a rough lick on the head before sitting up. Every bone in his body ached. His throat felt like somebody had run their claws up and down the inside multiple times. His nose was dripping. His eyes were groggy.
After a couple of attempts to get comfortable again, all of them failing, he stood up and padded to the entrance of the den. Damn. It would be so nice if I could just take a walk around the camp to wear myself out... He thought indignantly, his olive green eyes staring longingly at the white powder that covered the camp. The snow was coming down so hard it was hard to see even three fox-lengths in front of the den. How the hell are we going to survive here? We're just sitting ducks to this storm. We are starving. Thirsty. Sleep-deprived... I just want this to stop. The tom took a paw to his nose and wiped the drippage away and sighed. His whole heart and lungs burned from the cold.
Inside the warrior's den, Froglegs lay peacefully, huddled up close to his mate, Fallenfox. His flank rose and fell steadily, and his paws flicked as he slept. The wind that howled outside brought snowflakes into the den, which soon melted. Though it was as cold as ice outside, the warrior's den was bearable. It wasn't too cold, but it definitely wasn't a cozy, nice warmth like new-leaf. But, it was better than freezing everyone's asses off.
Froglegs was jerked awake by a sharp kick in the rib. He looked around and realized that Fallenfox, his own mate had done it. Rolling his eyes, he gave the tom a rough lick on the head before sitting up. Every bone in his body ached. His throat felt like somebody had run their claws up and down the inside multiple times. His nose was dripping. His eyes were groggy.
After a couple of attempts to get comfortable again, all of them failing, he stood up and padded to the entrance of the den. Damn. It would be so nice if I could just take a walk around the camp to wear myself out... He thought indignantly, his olive green eyes staring longingly at the white powder that covered the camp. The snow was coming down so hard it was hard to see even three fox-lengths in front of the den. How the hell are we going to survive here? We're just sitting ducks to this storm. We are starving. Thirsty. Sleep-deprived... I just want this to stop. The tom took a paw to his nose and wiped the drippage away and sighed. His whole heart and lungs burned from the cold.