Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2015 15:59:45 GMT -5
Tags: None
Muse: Great
Words: 228
Sharp hazel eyes opened to the soft dawn light, a small body nestled in soft green moss. His back was consisted of a night black, but then there was the signature slip of white lightning fur on his face, going upwards into the black mask over half of his face, separating the white half and the white below. For once, the tom looked innocent, neither cold nor optimistic, just innocence. Then Sunstar flashed in his wide, intelligent mind, and that look of calm innocence disappeared. No, he was in no way starting to grow feelings for the fiery leader. Nope. He never had feelings in general, except for maybe a protectiveness or loyalty to his friends and family.
What was going on with him?! He was the calm, unemotional tom that would die for his clan, or any single clan mate.
Nope, he did not have feelings.
With a quick shake of his head, Beetlestrike pushed himself up with his muscular legs, before returning his hazel gaze to his ragged, un-groomed fur. With soft growl, he licked his fur until every single hair was well-groomed and he was returned to his slick, perfectly groomed black and white pelt, before his paws took him outside of the den, exposing his fur to the soft dawn light and morning dew sparkling in the grass.
Muse: Great
Words: 228
Sharp hazel eyes opened to the soft dawn light, a small body nestled in soft green moss. His back was consisted of a night black, but then there was the signature slip of white lightning fur on his face, going upwards into the black mask over half of his face, separating the white half and the white below. For once, the tom looked innocent, neither cold nor optimistic, just innocence. Then Sunstar flashed in his wide, intelligent mind, and that look of calm innocence disappeared. No, he was in no way starting to grow feelings for the fiery leader. Nope. He never had feelings in general, except for maybe a protectiveness or loyalty to his friends and family.
What was going on with him?! He was the calm, unemotional tom that would die for his clan, or any single clan mate.
Nope, he did not have feelings.
With a quick shake of his head, Beetlestrike pushed himself up with his muscular legs, before returning his hazel gaze to his ragged, un-groomed fur. With soft growl, he licked his fur until every single hair was well-groomed and he was returned to his slick, perfectly groomed black and white pelt, before his paws took him outside of the den, exposing his fur to the soft dawn light and morning dew sparkling in the grass.
