In The Blue Hours of Morning [closed]

The early morning sky was already flavored with the troublesome promise of rain, a relatively unfamiliar dampness that intermingled heavily with the faintest remnant of the late evening chill- the final traces of the lingering Greenleaf heat slowly dissipating somewhere just beyond the horizon, the prominent tension of the day already curling heavily alongside the crisp taste of blossoming Leaf-Fall. The barley discernible rumble of a brewing storm, undercut by the faintest dashes of lightning upon the dark smear of the horizon, had easily kept Brindlestar from sleeping through the night, attention entirely fixed upon the oncoming threat of the bitter cold.

Shaking away the nagging prickle of uncomfortable tension that was already building just below the surface of her overly unkempt fur, Brindlestar dropped an angular shoulder into the soft sands of the camp floor, flopping down onto her side with all of the grace of a blind rabbit attempting to navigate the talons of a hawk. The threat of the cold weather was definitely antagonizing, especially after the lull of security offered by the warm moons, and made it all the more difficult to stay focused upon the task at paw. How was she expected to properly maintain the training of a chubby, soft-faced kit whenever she spent her waking hours agonizing over their prospects for the winter? Letting out a grandoise sigh, laden with fretful undercurrents, the wild molly threw an idle glance in the direction of the entrance to camp, reduced to haplessly waiting for Featherpaw to approach.

Thick fur (and an even thicker skull, it seemed) had kept Featherpaw’s spirits high as the temperature was steadily beginning to drop at the approach of Leaf-Fall. He hadn't stopped to consider what the colder months would bring-- he'd been too busy watching the leaves of the distant forested territories slowly begin to change their colors. He slipped out of the apprentice den with a hearty shake to dislodge a few stalks of heather that clung to his downy fur when his saucer-sized gaze caught sight of his mentor and leader waiting for him.
“Brindlestar!” He chirped as he enthusiastically bounded over to her, energetic as ever. He skidded to a stop in a small shower of grit knocked up from uncoordinated paws. “Ready for training!”