Rosy Dawn [Open]

Dense fog rolled over WindClan territory, casting the moors in a ghostly pale light as the Leafbare sun struggled to awaken from its nightly slumber. The snow was not so deep as it had been the past few moons, with this cold season finally beginning to loosen its grip, in fact it was just thin enough for the grasses to start poking through. Soft crunching of that fragile layer of ice announced the movements of an otherwise invisible cat, a gentle ghost in the morning light. The chill did not reach his paws as he walked towards the awakening flowers just beyond the next hill. The sun rose a little further, banishing much of the fog as a freezing dew on the winter-wilted stalks of heather. The overcast sky was moving westward, with the sun alighting the growing crack between the horizon and cloudfront with its warm visage. Dawn chased the night away quickly as the clouds raced towards the other end of the sky. Silence faded with the far-away lilts of birdsong.

Cloudpaw took in a deep breath when he finally reached his destination, feeling the air chill his lungs, giving him the last bit of wakefulness he needed. There was something magical in seeing the sun rise by himself, as if there were no other cats in the world. He sat facing the rising sun, letting its warmth soak through his snowy pelt. He came here for a reason - to pick flowers for the elders who couldn't properly walk here themselves, lest their joints cry from the cold - however, what harm was there to linger? When this soft moment in time brought such a feeling of peace, it seemed dreadful to cut it short.

Fernstep was out on a patrol when she noticed Cloudpaw and smiled. She knew the Tom loved the sunlight in the morning and also knew why he was there. She decided to head over to him as her patrol was already over and heading back to camp. “Hello Cloudpaw.” she said once the sun had risen past the horizon.

Thrushpaw had been on the patrol with Fernstep, the two she-cats had been checking the borders, marking where it was due. The territory had been clean of rogues recently, so it hadn't seemed daunting. Thrushpaw's recent skirmish with a fox had left her front leg lame for a few days, but it was mostly okay by now, if tender. She couldn't fight or really even practice fight at the moment, and enjoyed the peaceful stroll that they'd been on, called a 'patrol'. Her fluffy pelt absorbed the heat from the soft, rising sun from behind the clouds and it contrasted well with the soft breeze rustling her fur. "Hey, Cloudpaw," she mewed as Fernstep made her introduction. The frosted petals of the flowers welcomed her, springing up and welcoming her paws. She treaded carefully, trying not to crush any of them.