sent from a dream [closed]

Lavanderdrop was a funny sort of warrior, in that he hardly held the normal characteristics of one devoted to the survival of his clan. He was skinny and somehow leaner than the rest of his clan in a natural way. Silken strands of soft, pale fur were the only thing that prevented him from looking entirely breakable. He was an average-sized cat, unimposing. The tom was beautiful, both in actuality, and coupled with the fact he was ignorant to his own pleasant appearance. No scars touched his coat - his youth was obvious. Even now, he hardly felt like the title that he had earned. But other cats respected him and there was no giving back the title.

He briefly thought about this life, as a warrior, as he stared wide-eyed across the border. Cats didn't control the lands beyond here - it was a free and open space. Often, he felt stifled, consumed with worries that he could not repair. Were the lands not controlled by vicious beast, had he been born into a less daunting season... perhaps these fears would have been soothed. Instead, his more flighty nature had been tampered away. Dreams became worries. As he grew, this had started to change but it had certainly shaped who he was. The rest of the patrol was a distance away, consumed by their pursuits of rabbits. Lavenderdrop instead thought of what life would be like beyond these open moors.

That was until he saw something that made him freeze. Another cat. The outline seemed to be that of a handsome calico with bright eyes and a pelt that told stories of an interesting life. His instinct was to run but his paws felt like they'd been stuck to the ground with honey. Lavenderdrop swallowed as the stranger approached.

Another successful hunt. Galloway was not all too clever, but he was well-traveled. He knew the tricks of each trade he encountered and remembered the face of every cat who taught him. Though he was no sprinter, he had discovered ways to track rabbits across this lush moorland without tiring himself to the point of collapse. It is difficult to ambush a rabbit here. You have to drive it into uncomfortable terrain. You have to think like a rabbit. It was hard work, but the reward of a Newleaf hare was too good to pass up. A fat one could feed two for an evening, which was certainly helpful as he tried to mend bridges with Hyacinth. He tucked his newest prize away, hiding the scent of freshly-spilt blood under the lifted roots of a very old-looking tree. Galloway noted that these roots resembled those of trees that grew near riverbeds. When the riverbeds flooded, the tree's hardy roots would hold fast to the ground, but lift from the force of the loosening mud around them. When the floodwater receded, the tree would be marked forever by the rushing water, desperately clinging to the ground for the rest of time. Strange, the loner thought as he arranged moss and musty-scented leaves around his kill, to see a tree like this all the way out here.

He was just a few long strides from the hiding place when he caught another unfamiliar cat on the warm breeze. It was a tom, smelling like daisies and honey. Just one, traveling alone. Galloway suddenly wished for his covering pelt to make a hasty escape. The tom's paws twitched back in the direction of the hiding place. I'd never be able to put it on before he sees me.

Better a friendly face than a terrifying beast. The 'I'm Lost' routine might be better suited to his current predicament. Galloway pushed over the ridge and took a gander at the light-colored warrior just down the slope from him. The stranger froze at his arrival. Intriguing. They looked over each other for a few long and languid moments, and with nothing to interrupt them, Galloway began to close the distance in a quick-footed trot. When the tom did not retreat, did not call out to him, and did not dare move a muscle, it was clear that there was no danger here at all... especially since the scout towered, stag-like, over the WindClan tom. "I'm not... extraordinarily clear on WindClan law," he all but giggled, squinting against the sun in his pale eyes. "But I feel like you're being a little charitable, letting me get this close."

As he locked eyes with the stranger, Lavenderdrop could feel his heart flutter and his ears warm. Perhaps it would have been frowned upon by clanmates to be stunned into such a stupor by a stranger cat rather than chasing them away but he could hardly deny the sensations that welled up inside. Being a dreamer, a flighty creature by nature, the warrior found it impossible to detach himself from such a fanciful thing before his eyes. To speak with someone who was well-traveled, clearly, and with such a handsome pelt... it spoke to him in ways that were undeniable.

When Galloway finally spoke, Lavenderdrop blinked. He cleared his throat and shook out his pelt. The tom's fur fluffed out slightly as he realized with a brief flash of embarrassment that he had probably looked like a fool staring so brazenly. And the words that the loner pressed with only further twisted the warrior's tongue, mostly because of the truth behind them. It occurred to him that it was a little odd for a lone cat to even know the name of his clan but it likely came from there being such large groups controlling the forest. Considering it now, the idea of so many cats gathered in one place was probably an unusual concept to those who normally wandered alone.

"Well, I-" He sputtered, trying to compose himself. With a slight cough and twitch of his whisker, Lavenderdrop managed to at least even out the squeaky pitch of his voice, "I don't see any problem with you being here unless you cross the border. You don't plan to cross the border, right?" His head tipped to the side in question. It hadn't come to him until now that a cat outside the clan might have an ill-intended reason for lurking near the border. As his gaze raked Galloway's coat once again, he found himself hoping that wasn't the case.