no less a wolf, just dressed in sheepskin (c)

The Thunderpath tended to bring strange things to Wolfpaw. A little rogue tom, skittish and afraid of his skin, foolish and immature. One he would probably rip into pieces if he found again. And a white she-cat, from WindClan. Pipitpaw, she was before. And now she was Snowvixen. Or, someone pretending to be her called themselves Snowvixen. It made his mind do strange things. At the last Gathering, he swore she was trying to distract him so they could get to his family. He did not attend the most recent. His perception of the scene warbled and distorted then.

His patrol continued to move through the marsh, and yet his paws had stopped. He blinked once, peering out over the crest of the rise the Thunderpath was situated upon. There was a monster not too far away. It would pass him shortly. The territory of WindClan, that moor. It was dark enough to swallow him. He blinked as the bright eyes of the monster briefly blinding him, its potent scent tearing at his throat and the wind whipping at his face from its speed. He grunted, and turned to return back to his patrol.

discord: moonazine| timezone: gmt| code (c) kieer