Lonely thoughts (OPEN)

[Ghost:]

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[atrb=background,http://i887.photobucket.com/albums/ac74/ShadesOfColor_photos/For%20Others/26402-2.jpg] A swish of bracken crackled as a lithe and someone small form brushed by it carelessly, and left her scent marking. Grey eyes blinked slowly as they looked around this foreign place, and a shiver ran through her. As Teller of Pointed Stones slowly sat down at the edge of her new found territory, she felt the sorrow that ran with the whole of her Tribe. They had finally lost their land, finally given up what had been theirs for generations. What kind of leader was she to give up just because the odds seemed stacked against them? Stoneteller sighed to herself, and rose a dainty paw to lick it carelessly. She enjoyed being alone, ever since Fox died she couldn't focus on many things. She felt his spirit wrap around her, envelop her and then disappear. The sun was just beginning to dip over the cherry color horizon, and the Tribe Healer couldn't help but admire the beauty of it. Living up in the mountains, surrounded by cold snow; it wasn't very often that a sunset could be caught with such magnitude. It depressed the little Japanese Bobtail, and her mood grew more depressed. This morose attitude was starting to annoy even Stoneteller as another sigh racked her delicate form. She needed to be happier, more focused, she had the most important job of all. One she felt like she already failed, but none the less would continue to struggle on until she died. She wondered if Cloud and Wind were together, smiling over their daughter. Or shaking their head at the terrible job she had done. Stoneteller had lost more cats than she could ever remember saving, and it did it's job splitting her poor soul right down the middle. One part of her was flirty, happy, and confident. The other, depressed, somewhat suicidal and moody. Stoneteller tried to keep track of her moods, she would never let her own ailments effect her Tribe. It never had, as far as she could tell, and it never would as long as she could help it. Shaking her head softly, Stoneteller pulled her eyes away from the sunset and looked around. There was no snow, glittering and cold on her rough pads. Only soft grass that seemed to dance to the wind's song. Stoneteller frowned, this wasn't the place for them. They disliked it as much as she, but they had all agreed that the Sharptooth couldn't be stopped this time. The white, black and brown spotted she-cat sighed and continued her lonely thoughts. Perhaps she could appeal to the Clans at their Gathering.. Or perhaps they would cast them aside. Only the Tribe of Endless Hunting knew.

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Speaking

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[( LOST )]

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[atrb=background,http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac244/White_Haze_Photos/Iseeblackcatseverywhere2-1.jpg] The ebony tom wound through the labyrinth of grasses, tail up and head poking just above the small green peeks. Amber eyes had drawn round and a look of sheer awe painted the tom's expression. The young to-be bristled with anxious excitement, as he wound onward investigating every upturned rock, insect, or small pebble that came across his path. Sparrow knew as well as any other that they had not stumbled upon this land in good terms. He knew well that they had been driven from their home, like kits fleeing in the night. And as naive as he could seem, Feather of Fallen Sparrow was excited about this turn of events. He would mourn forever, the loss of their home, and those they had lost to the Sharptooth. But this new land, this new home, would offer a new beginning. It whispered secrets of adventure to be had, and a life to be lived. The wind sighed and hummed as the twisted grass danced to its muted rhythm. Sparrow leaped forward, trapping his paws around a grasshopper. A grin plastered his maw, and when he ducked his head to peek at the small insect, it sprung away. Then it was gone, without a trace into the fortress of grass. By now, a purr had risen up in Sparrow's chest. Again, he lifted his head above the towering stalks, amber eyes peering out into the world around him. The to-be knew he aught to have been with his mentor, or perhaps a cave-guard. This was new territory, completely uncharted. Who really knew what lurked within it. However; curiosity was such a hard thing to control. Sparrow couldn't help but give into it, just for a little bit anyway. Besides, dusk was creeping upon them, he'd return to the makeshift camp before the sun had set completely. For now, the ebony tom was bounding through the grass once again. He breathed in the air of sunset, driven by its foreign stench and taste. The air here was different, unlike the crisp scent of the mountains. Feather of Fallen Sparrow could smell many things here, both foreign and interesting. He could smell the lake's musky scent, and the distant smell of marshy reeds towards the west. Nonetheless, Sparrow was simply bounding to bound. To see everything he possibly could, in the little time he had. Being as distracted as he was, Sparrow scarcely noticed the scent of his own coming rapidly upon him. It wasn't until the last heartbeat that the lanky ebony tom took sight of a white molten pelt. His paws faltered in surprise, and Sparrow let out a yowl of warning before spilling into the twisted grass. By the time Sparrow had recomposed himself, he'd looked up to see the familiar dainty form of Stoneteller. The to-be's jaw could have dropped, had he not had more common sense. Sparrow scrambled to his paws, he did his best to push back the flustered surprise that tread upon his face. Instead, the tom put on a look of what he hoped was apologetic. Shaking his pelt, Sparrow gave a few brisk licks to the chest. "Stoneteller! I'm sorry for that, I was being careless."