if every time we touch, you get this kind of rush (c)

Larchpaw stopped for a moment and closed his eyes, just feeling the cold wind that blew all around him. This was probably the chilliest place in the forest, unsheltered by tree or bracken or marsh, just rolling moors and the unfettered air coming from far over Highstones. But he loved it. Cold or not, snowy or not, WindClan territory was his favorite place to be. He wasn't alone, though, so he couldn't just stand here with his eyes closed for too long or his companion would think he was crazy. He opened his eyes, shining golden, and shot a dazzling smile in Heatherpaw's direction. The deputy's daughter, if he recalled correctly. They hadn't spoken much, but she seemed nice enough, and she was certainly pretty nice to look at. "So, did you want to hunt or race first?" he asked warmly, waving his flame-orange calico tail behind him. "I'm all right with either one. But you've been an apprentice longer than I have, so I'm sure your skills in rabbit-catching far outpace mine. I won't make you promise to go easy, though. I'll take it, win or lose." His gaze left hers for a moment, traveling over the far-flung reaches of the territory. A content, yet wistful sigh left him. "I'll tell you what, though, I think we both win just by coming out today. Isn't the weather gorgeous? Clear blue sky, fresh white snow, air so crisp it might snap my lungs in half." Larchpaw stepped a bit closer to Heatherpaw, eyes meeting hers again with a wink. "Almost as pretty as you."

The thought of racing through the territory had helped to relieve some of the tensions that smoldered within Heatherpaw. No amount of training or duties had sated that frustration that Crakeburn had moved to the warrior's den while she was still dirtying her paws clearing out the elder's den. Her pawsteps felt heavier as she padded through the snow alongside Larchpaw. He was a younger apprentice, having joined their den not too long ago, and quite the character. In contrast to her stone cold exterior at the moment, he was as bright as sunny as the stretching sky above. When the tom spoke, she couldn't help the soft snort that came from her nose instinctively.

It was baffling to her how carefree he was, enamored by the daylight, and apparently her pelt as well. There was some satisfaction in knowing that another cat noticed how well-groomed she kept her silken fur. What had once been a neutral expression across her maw transformed into a smirk. Heatherpaw raised her head and took several long strides to pass him, her feather tail flicking his nose, "You know what, Larchpaw? I think you're right. Today is a great day. Perfect for running the moors. I'd give you a headstart but I think you'll enjoy the view better at my hindpaws. See if you can keep up!" With a twitch of her whiskers, she took off, stretching her legs as far as they would go and soaring over the moor while hardly stirring up the beautiful snowflakes.

Larchpaw let a quick shudder run through him at the tail-flick, feeling his eyes squint into a warm expression. A great day, indeed. This was so much better than trying to keep company with Pipitpaw's dramatic smugness all the time--this was how interactions between apprentices should be. A gorgeous leaf-bare day, plenty of distance to run around, no obligations tying him down anywhere... And Heatherpaw really was easy on the eyes. She seemed nice enough, too. Any cat who agreed a perfect day like this meant they should run as far as they could was all right in his book. He wouldn't mind hanging out with her some more, he decided. So when she kicked off, spraying a flash of white snow behind her, he shook the sunlit dazzle from his eyes and grinned widely, following just a half-second behind.

Running came naturally to his completely WindClan blood, and it was where he found joy like nothing else. Wind in his fur, ground beneath his paws, the rush of air rustling his ears... perfection. He became a streamlined orange blur over the crystalline-frosted moors, like a wild flame broken loose and rampant in the ice-cold weather. If he tried really hard, it was possible he could attempt to overtake Heatherpaw, but there was no guarantee of success--and besides, there was nothing wrong with allowing her the headstart and showing he could keep up. So once he reached her side, he slowed into an effortless canter, matching her pace exactly. Her pelt was a soft cream blaze in his peripheral vision, but he kept his eyes fixed forward, taking in the landscape. It wouldn't do to trip and fumble and look like a fool. That was the last thing he wanted. So instead he just ran like this, no destination but forward. A laugh bubbled up from inside his chest--pure exhilaration, like the crinkle of fallen leaves or the rustle of river water through the Gorge. Larchpaw turned his face to make eye contact, the gold in his gaze glittering with ardor as it met her blue. "You were right, Heatherpaw," he said easily. "I am enjoying the view."

The she-cat was pleased to see how effortlessly her new companion traversed the territory. This was how Windclan cats were meant to be, so wild and carefree as they flew across the moor. Her limbs ached but she willed them to move faster, enjoying the burn as it set into every sinew. Feeling the strain helped to relieved some of the tensions that had built up. As Heatherpaw's shoulders relaxed, she felt her stride widen as her whiskers twitched. Larchpaw was fun, she decided, silently as she glanced quickly over at the other apprentice. Sunlight highlighted the natural pattern of his pelt, making it all the more stunning in appearance.

An easy smirk twitched at the edges of her maw as their eyes met. The warm timber of his voice was as inviting as his general demeanor. She found herself easing gratefully into a moment, one shared without her kin, or frustrations over the future. All of that died away in the wake of the daylight, briefly melting away her indignant nature. As her feathery tail swished back and forth, a mischievous light danced in the depths of her bright blue gaze. Heatherpaw's muscles tensed as she leaped forward and bowled Larchpaw over.

The pair had been at the edge of a slope and went tumbling down the side, snow cascading in all directions. A brief laughter echoed from Heatherpaw. Snow provided a cushion to what would have otherwise been ice-touched earth. As they fell, landing next to each other, Heatherpaw was abnormally out of character in enjoying the cold along her back. It felt like since she had watched Crakeburn's ceremony, her belly had been filled with unnatural and maddening warmth. Here was where relief was found.

She looked back to Larchpaw and meowed, "What do you say we just enjoy things for a while? Surely there is no harm in taking our time on such a beautiful day. The clan won't miss us like would a hunting patrol." Rolling onto her back and looking up at the sun, her eyes squinted. It wasn't often she took the vast sight of the endless blue skies. Instead of feeling small underneath the expansive canopy, the apprentice felt impossibly grand, as big as the forest itself. She wondered if he could feel it too.